A House of Mysteries Page 9

  “I have no doubt that you’ll keep reading it,” he continued, his voice slightly softer. “You can find out that way.”

  I nodded, grateful that I would no longer have to hide my reading of it in front of him. If we were going to try to trust one another, then the fewer secrets between us the better. Not that I didn’t think the Druid had plenty of his own which he fully intended to keep.

  “Did you find the clothes?” he asked, his gaze sweeping over my ridiculous frilly nightgown.

  “I’ll take them up to the attic tomorrow morning. No way am I going up there in the dark,” I muttered.

  “The house is perfectly safe,” he replied. “It’s only outside that you need to be wary.”

  I wanted to laugh.

  “Draven, I’m sorry, but this house is like something out of a horror story. The stuffed animals, the creepy pictures everywhere—just the fact that it’s falling to pieces around us would be enough of a red flag on its own, without the rest of it.”

  “Really?” he replied, his expression curious. “I had never thought of it that way. I suppose you may find it a little odd. I suppose I don’t really notice it that much anymore.”

  I thought about all the years he’d lived here…since the eighteen hundreds. That was an impossible amount of time to remain in one place. How he had not gone completely insane, I would never know.

  “You must have been lonely here,” I said instead.

  He shrugged. “I like my own company, perhaps more than the company of others.”

  “How do you know that if you’ve never had company—other than Elissa and your father?” I countered. “Maybe you’re lonely and you don’t even know it.”

  “I consider you and your friends company, and I’ve found you all exceedingly tiresome.”

  I laughed out loud at his reply, quickly muffling the sound with my sleeve so as not to wake the others. Well, at least he was upfront about some things.

  “We’re not exactly having the time of our lives here, either,” I replied, hoping to remind him that it was he who had brought us here—we were not uninvited guests who were overstaying their welcome.

  “I know that. Which is why I want you all to be as comfortable as possible. Hence the clothing. And anything else you need, just say. If it is in my power to give it, I will do so.”

  “I appreciate it,” I replied gently. I meant it. I did believe that he was doing what he thought was best for us. No matter how much I disagreed with his methods, I felt there was an honesty behind it all—a reluctance to have Azazel destroy any more lives than he had done already.

  “It’s late,” he replied eventually, moving toward the door. “Please rest. I have a feeling there is much ahead of us.”

  Before I could ask him what he meant, he had left the room, closing the door firmly behind him. I rose up off the bed. I wasn’t going to sleep in here, it was too creepy. I took the diary with me and picked up the lamp, putting the other out. As I crept back along the corridor to my bedroom, I couldn’t help thinking of the night in the jungle when he’d come to save me. Amidst all the confusion and panic that night, I could still recall how it felt to be in his arms. How warm his skin had been in comparison to my body temperature. How quick and controlled his stride had been as he carried me across the lawn, like an animal coiled and ready to strike at a moment’s notice…

  Draven was certainly intriguing.

  Aida

  Before breakfast, and far too early for my liking, Serena hauled us out of bed and dragged us along the corridor, trying to find the entrance to the attic that the Druid, or Draven, had told her about. The prospect of a change of clothing was appealing, but I dreaded what we’d find in the attic. No doubt it would be moth-eaten rags straight from the eighteenth century. Great.

  Serena led us to the covered painting at the far end of the hallway. There was no sound from the boys’ room, and I suspected they were most likely still fast asleep. Like we should have been.

  As we approached the painting, I could see there was another, much smaller, corridor which was shrouded in almost complete darkness. I hadn’t noticed it before, but that was understandable—the entry was partially blocked by piles of books, and more paintings that leaned against the wall. The entrance was covered in cobwebs. Clearly no one had been here in a very long time.

  “Another treat from the house of horrors,” I muttered, knocking away one of the dust-filled webs. My fear of spiders was minor compared to that of snakes, so I felt just about okay dealing with whatever creepy-crawlies would be coming our way.

  “Do you think we need a lamp?” Serena asked, peering down the corridor. None of us had moved from the landing. I doubted any of us were particularly keen on going first. Not just because it was creepy, but because this house was falling apart—one wrong step and we might find ourselves falling through the floor.

  “Yeah,” Vita replied. “I think so… better safe than sorry.”

  “Give me a second,” Serena replied, dashing back to the spare room. A few moments later she reappeared with one of the gas lamps.

  “Hopefully the attic will be lighter.” Serena tried to sound upbeat.

  “Since when are attics light?” I asked, amused at her efforts to make this venture seem more hopeful. “They are literally the cornerstone of every horror movie—dark, creepy and damp. And I can imagine this one will top them all off.”

  “Well, it’s this or pajamas for eternity,” she replied primly.

  “Is it too late to vote for pajamas for eternity?” Vita asked, only half-joking.

  “Come on,” Serena instructed, taking the first step along the corridor, gingerly stepping past the piles of books and paintings. She held the lamp low on the floor, making sure that the floorboards weren’t completely rotten.

  “It looks okay,” she called to us.

  I sighed, following her. Vita walked behind me, and together we quietly made our way deeper into the gloom. On our right, the walls were made of crumbling plaster, exposing the brickwork beneath them. There were even more books piled up along here, their covers completely obscured by a thick coating of dust. On the left, the wall was in better condition, with lamps, unlit, at various intervals, and doors leading off into other rooms.

  “Should we be exploring any of these?” I asked, as Serena marched past them.

  “On the way back,” she replied. “I don’t want either of you getting more freaked out.”

  “Oh, thanks,” I retorted. “We’re not completely useless. I’m not actually that freaked out by this, I—” I broke off, giving a short, and embarrassing, squeal of fright as something brushed against my face. It was just another web, and I shoved it away in irritation.

  “You were saying?” Serena replied, stifling laughter.

  “That this is a dumb idea,” I grumbled.

  She ignored me, and we kept going until we reached the end of the corridor. The wall was covered in a velvet drape, which fell in folds on the floor. Leaning forward past Serena, I gave the drape a yank, parting it lengthways till the hallway filled with light. I had exposed a large window that looked out onto the front of the house. The glass was dusty and smeared with dirt, but it was a huge relief to stand bathed in the bright rays of the morning sun.

  “Who would put a drape against one of these windows?” I asked curiously. It seemed like the strangest thing to do, especially in a house so in desperate need of some natural light.

  “Beats me,” replied Serena.

  She put the lamp down, pushing the drape further off the window, and we all peered out. I had actually never seen the front of the house—I’d been too nervous about accidentally crossing over the boundaries of the garden to do much exploring.

  There was a large courtyard outside, directly in the center of which was a small island of grass, surrounded by a dirt track. Blooming magnolia trees grew in the center, sending their petals scattering across the rest of the courtyard. On either side of the track which led up to the front door of the
house—I presumed, as the entrance was covered by a shaded porch—there was more overgrown garden: magnolia trees and weeping willows with wild clusters of flowers and weeds. The dirt track led away from the house for a few yards, ending suddenly, the overgrown garden becoming replaced by the swamp land. The effect of a plantation house being lifted from its natural surroundings and dumped in the middle of a jungle was more obvious here than in the back garden. The difference was startlingly pronounced, and for the first time I found myself genuinely believing Draven’s tale—it felt like I finally had evidence that such a miraculous thing had taken place.

  “Wow,” Vita breathed. “This looks so weird.”

  “Do you think one of those is the magnolia tree that Phoenix saw in his vision?” Serena asked.

  “Could be,” I replied, “we should tell him.”

  “I said yesterday that he should go and look for the tree,” Serena murmured in reply, “but I don’t know if he did or not. He didn’t mention it.”

  I thought that if he’d found the tree in his vision, he would have said something, so I assumed that he hadn’t. Turning away from the window, I looked around.

  “Where to next?” I asked. There was another door on our left, but that was it. I looked up at the ceiling, but couldn’t see any kind of trap door that would indicate an entrance to the attic. Without waiting for the others, I pushed open the door. It groaned loudly from disuse, and then opened up into a small, completely bare room… except for a narrow set of stairs leading upward.

  “This must be the way,” I said, beckoning the others through. There were two windows in here, unobscured by drapes this time, and sending shafts of light across the bare and rotting floorboards.

  “Be careful,” I said, picking my way across them to the staircase. When I reached the first step, I put my foot out, testing whether or not it would take my weight. It seemed quite sturdy, perhaps the only thing in the house that did, and I started to ascend. Serena and Vita followed closely behind. When I reached the last step, there was nothing except the top of the ceiling, with a perfectly square board cut into the plaster. With some trepidation, mainly nervousness about the possibility of humongous rats, I pushed against it. It gave way easily, setting a smattering of dust and plaster debris on top of our heads. I coughed, my eyes stinging as the grime covered me.

  “I’m going to need another shower,” I said, looking down at my filthy hands and feet. I hoped they had shoes up here too. If we were going to get out of here eventually, I’d rather not traipse about the jungle in bare feet.

  With a final push, I moved the board to the side and clambered up into the attic.

  “What did I tell you!” Serena announced as she climbed up behind me. The attic was surprisingly full of light. The ceiling had skylights built into it, bathing the room in sunshine, but also making it the temperature of a furnace.

  “Let’s open them,” I replied, already starting to feel beads of perspiration rolling down my back. We each took one of the four windows, pushing against them with effort. One wouldn’t budge at all, no matter how hard we tried, but the other three did—letting in slightly cooler air than below in the gardens.

  I looked around the attic. It was full of heavy-looking chests, more paintings covered with mildewed sheets, broken chairs, side tables and lamps. There was even a haggard-looking rocking-horse in the far corner, one of its eyes popped out, with stuffing falling from the socket. I shuddered.

  Why is this place so consistently creepy?

  Serena moved over to one of the chests, flicking the latch up and pushing it open. More groans emanated from the hinges, but then the lid swung open with a heavy thump.

  “Bingo,” she called out, already rifling through its contents.

  “Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” I remarked as she pulled out a large, yellow-white petticoat.

  “Come on, what did you expect?” she replied with a grin.

  “Does anyone else really miss Corrine?” Vita added as she tentatively held up the hem of the petticoat by the tips of her fingers. Serena dropped it back, pulling out more items—bodices, more whitish undergarments, silk dresses, cotton pinafores, and men’s items too, shirts and trousers. They looked the most normal of the lot, but there probably wouldn’t be enough menswear to go around, as the boys would need most of it.

  After a few minutes, we’d managed to make three piles—one of the menswear items that we’d take down to the others, one of clothing that under no circumstances would any of us be caught dead in, and a pile, mostly of undergarments, that we thought were viable options—they looked like they’d cover enough of the body to be acceptable, but were less thick than the outer layers.

  “I can’t understand how they wore so many clothes back then,” I murmured in astonishment. “Underwear that’s basically a full outfit, and then more layers on top of that.”

  Vita shrugged, eyeing the outfits warily. “I guess they were just used to it. But you’re right. I couldn’t imagine ever wearing so much stuff…getting ready must have been exhausting.”

  “Servants,” Serena replied. “They probably helped. And I guess in those days, the women just sat around looking pretty.”

  I held up one of the more flouncy, silk ensembles.

  “I do declare, Draven, you are mighty fine,” I crowed in my best Southern drawl.

  Serena was not impressed. She rolled her eyes at me and snatched the dress out of my hands, dumping it back into the ‘don’t even go there’ pile.

  “Shut it,” she replied.

  I batted my eyelids, laughing.

  “You’ve got to admit—both he and Bijarki are handsome specimens. And unless I’m mistaken, the Druid seems particularly fond of you.”

  “Only because I’ve spent the most time with him,” Serena retorted, her cheeks aflame. “It’s not a big deal. Plus, he saved my life—so I can’t help but feel a bit of appreciation for him, can I?”

  “It’s not a criticism,” I replied with a grin. “I’m warming to the Druid anyway. I think he’s genuinely trying to help us.”

  “Me too,” Vita added. She swiftly changed the subject, picking up a few of the undergarments. “Let’s try some of these on, see if they fit.”

  Serena nodded gratefully, pulling out the nearest dress. A few moments later we were all looking at one another and grinning at our appearances. We looked a bit like Amish women—the dresses were a simple white cotton, tight at the bodice, but respectfully so, and then flowing down into loose skirts. They weren’t ideal, but they would be better than wearing our pajamas constantly, and would probably be a bit cooler.

  “Actually, I have to say, both of you look really good,” Serena observed, her grin growing wider as Vita twirled around in the dress.

  “Same to you,” I replied truthfully. The dress matched her alabaster skin, and made her shock of black hair stand out all the more. She was so small that the bodice was slightly loose on her, but other than that, the dress fit perfectly.

  “Let’s get downstairs,” Serena stated. “The others will be waiting, we can try the rest on later.”

  I scooped up the men’s stuff, while Serena and Vita carted the rest of the acceptable garments off between them. I took one look around the attic before heading back down the staircase. It was roomy and spacious, and I liked the vast amounts of light it got compared to the rest of the house. If we were going to be staying here any longer, I wondered if it would be a more suitable place for us to sleep.

  “What’s up?” Serena asked, noticing my hesitation.

  “Just thinking it’s the nicest room in the house…if we were staying any longer, I’d suggest moving up here.”

  “I was thinking the same,” she agreed. “I guess it just depends what’s going to happen next.”

  I nodded, glancing at both the girls.

  How much longer would our stay be?

  Vita

  Once we’d dropped off the clothes with the others and had breakfast, it was time for another tra
ining session with the Druid. This time, instead of taking us down into the basement, he led us outside. Bijarki followed behind him, both carrying bags of equipment that Draven had told us were for the session.

  As soon as I’d seen Bijarki at the breakfast table, I regretted my choice of attire. It seemed to please him, his eyes travelling from my bare feet, as we hadn’t managed to find any shoes yet, up to the slightly revealing bodice. He abruptly looked away as Draven cleared his throat. I had flushed, feeling strangely light-headed, and eaten my breakfast in silence.

  As soon as we were outside, I felt better. The air seemed a bit fresher today, and I was glad that we would be outside in the sunshine rather than cooped up in the airless and damp basement.

  I watched Draven and Bijarki as they emptied the contents of the bags on the grass. There were six copper balls, each with small holes in the top of them, with a solid base. Next, they pulled out clumps of dried herbs—the herbs smelled earthy and sweet, but I didn’t recognize them at all. Draven opened up the balls, unscrewing the top from the bottom. Inside each he stuffed handfuls of the herbs and then lit a match, enflaming them before screwing the two parts back together.

  “What are those?” I asked curiously.

  “They are censers. Used to burn herbs and incense so that it flows directly upward,” he replied, screwing the top onto the last ball. I peered over them, instantly hit with an almost intoxicating wave of smoke and the herbs’ heady fragrance.

  “Stand back for now,” the Druid warned me. “I need to explain first.”

  He called the others over, and we gathered around the copper spheres.

  “You already know what it’s like to slip into the semi-conscious state,” Draven began, addressing Aida, Phoenix and me. “Now that you know what it feels like, we’re going to try a different, less invasive method, which will guide you into that state, rather than force you to be in it. So you will need to do the work.”