 VIII. Janor 2:00 AM She found herself floating near the ceiling. An out of body experience or a dream? She decided on the latter and examined her surroundings in earnest. She was in the library again, yet it was dark. There was a fire in the fireplace though and the flames cast strange shadows along the chairs nearby. Not with a little trepidation, she made herself drift over to the chairs. They were empty. But next to one of the chairs was the white wig. She made herself float down from the ceiling and reaching out, she tried to touch the wig. Her hand passed through it and sank through the floor. Jerking her hand upward, she glanced around her. Did she just hear something? In the dancing shadows, the wig began to look a more than a little gray. It was darkening before her eyes to black. Backing up, she looked at the window. The drapes were drawn and the sky was dark. It was raining hard. That must have been the sound that she heard, the rain pounding upon the panes. The room grew colder as the flames died down to embers and she shivered. Even the dream library was a bit unnerving. She turned toward the door and opened it. On the other side, a tall black figure confronted her. Sharp silver eyes pierced through her. The shadow lurched forward. Reine sat up in bed, breathing hard. Tuesday remained asleep at the foot of the bed, unaware that his mistress had a nightmare. Disturbed, she rose from bed and pulled on her robe. The drapes to the windows in her room were drawn aside to let in the meager moonlight. She had no inclination for going outside though. Her pouch of seeing stones laid on the bed stand. She put them in her pocket and padded toward the door. Something touched her ankle. “Tuesday,” she whispered. “What are you doing up?” He placed his forepaws on her leg. “All right, just this once.” She lifted the cat up and placed him on her right shoulder. Tuesday yawned and she could smell the leftover Parmesan chicken that she had given him for dinner. “Let’s go raid the kitchen.” She stepped out into the darkened hallway. Her slippers made little sound on the carpet. Tuesday meowed. “Calm down. I have good night vision. I’m not going to trip on the stairs…ow!” Ruefully, Reine wiggled her toes. “On the other hand, maybe you were right.” She had mashed her toes on the banister while trying to turn the corner into the living room. The fireplace in the living room was dead. This brought little relief though; the moonlight filtering through the windows gave the room an eerie silver look. The moose and deer heads on the wall gazed downward in a strange otherworldly fashion causing a frisson of heightened awareness to trickle down her spine. In the dining room, there was a little light coming from the kitchen from underneath the door. Did the household servants forget to turn off the light? Reine pushed the door open and found a solitary figure with a dark robe and mussed hair sprawled on a stool at the counter munching on a leftover vegetable tray. Marcus looked up and paused with a cherry tomato halfway to his mouth. For a brief moment, she debated on whether to run back upstairs to the safety of her room or to stay. She decided she didn’t want to go back to sleep. “Are you planning to finish the whole thing off?” she asked. “No more than you are. Help yourself.” She took the seat next to his and reached over to take a baby carrot. “Couldn’t sleep either, huh?” “Oh, I’ll probably get to sleep eventually, but not now.” Tuesday leaped off her shoulder and attacked a sprig of broccoli with gusto. Reine laughed. “Looks like Tuesday is turning vegetarian. No I couldn’t get to sleep either. There’s something about this house.” She was silent for a moment as Marcus reached out to stroke Tuesday’s head. “Am I paranoid or what?” “I heard somewhere that it may be difficult for some people to adjust to different places. Maybe that’s why we can’t sleep just yet.” “I got to sleep just fine. But the dreams were strange.” “Care to tell me about them?” “They were just about the library. Assimilating information you collected during the day and all that.” She sighed. “It wouldn’t feel so strange if Ira was around more. You’d think that she would at least spend some time with her guests instead of holing up in her room working. Ira’s social for an author. This isn’t like her. Maybe Larrington is right—that there’s something wrong.” “Larrington? Is he actually showing some caring for his aunt?” “I didn’t get the impression. He just wants to talk to her about something. Money, as Ira would say.” “Larrington has enough money to sink a ship. Why would he want more?” “Well, you know that Ira doesn’t have any children. And she owns this house, this mansion as well as the surrounding area and that island out on the lake.” “The island?” “Yes, Tabora told me about it. Are you going camping with her husband and Hadrian?” “I was planning on it.” He crunched on a carrot, looking thoughtful. “You could come with us.” “Me? Camping? Do I look like the type?” He grinned. “Try out a new experience, Reine. You might like it.” “I don’t know. Isn’t it freezing cold out there?” “Not if you bring the right clothing.” “Sure,” she replied skeptically. “Reine?” “Hm?” “About the seeing stones.” He hesitated for a moment, forcing her to turn her head to look at him. “When we were about to, I don’t know, were we just using our own skewed interpretations as in excuse to act on impulse?” “It was impulsive?” “I’m sorry. Impulse was the wrong word. I knew exactly what I was doing. I just wasn’t sure how you’d react. I don’t look like Hadrian.” The edge of her lips quirked upward in a smile. “I’m surprised you would be insecure about your appearance. It’s just a scar. Besides, the rest of you doesn’t seem damaged. Not that I can see anyway.” “I’m not sure if I should be insulted or not with that last remark.” “Maybe all the depressing fiction you’ve been editing lately has been rubbing off on you.” The sound of the kitchen door opening caused the two of them to look up. Tuesday continued gnawing on his beloved piece of broccoli. Hadrian sauntered in, clad only in pajama bottoms. Spotting Marcus and Reine, a ruddy blush appeared on his cheeks. “Um, hi. What are you two doing up?” “Eating,” said Reine. “Care to join us for a late night snack?” “Uh, no thanks. I just wanted to look for something.” He wandered over to the fridge and rummaged inside. “Damn. Where is it?” “What are you looking for?” she asked. “Whip cream.” There was a moment of silence. “Isn’t two in the morning a little late for that kind of thing?” Marcus finally asked. “It’s never too late for food. Ah hah! Here it is.” Hadrian emerged from the fridge triumphantly with an unopened can. When he left, they simultaneously got off their stools. “I should put this back,” Marcus said, taking the unfinished vegetable tray. “It really is getting too late.” She scooped up Tuesday who scrambled back on her shoulder. “Even if we have the luxury of sleeping in.” He flipped the switch off. “You must have pretty good night vision if you got here in one piece.” “Not quite. I stubbed my toe on the stairs.” “I can act as a guide dog then.” His hand found hers. His fingers were warm and a little rough. They made their way through the dining room and the living room until Marcus saw a thin beam of light flickering along the foyer. Instinctively, he pushed Reine back to the wall. “Oof. What do you think you’re doing?” “Shh.” He peeked past the doorway and could make out two figures, one with a flashlight, making their way to the library. She tried to look past his shoulder. “What is it? What did you see?” His hand tightened over hers. “Apparently, everyone is awake in the middle of the night. I just saw two people go into the library.” “The library? Could you tell who they were?” “No. And it probably doesn’t matter.” “We could peek in.” “That would seriously get us in trouble.” “Not if we’re discrete about it.” Reine edged past Marcus and dragged him down the foyer. Marcus tried to pull back, but she was adamant. “Come on. A quick peek won’t kill us.” “Reine.” He sighed and reluctantly followed. “This is a bad idea.” She placed an ear to the library door. “I can hear them talking.” “It’s in here somewhere. I knew she mentioned it.” “Look, it’s way too late to be tearing the library apart. I want to go to sleep.” “Quit whining, you old bag. If we find it, we’ll be rich.” “A fine thing that is. If we find the damned thing.” “Either you help me or not. If you don’t and I find it myself, the deal’s off.” “I’m just trying to be reasonable here. It’s late. And we’ve been up the entire day playing congenial guests. I’d say the hell with it and just sleep during the day and prowl during the night when no one’s looking.” “We’ll also have plenty of time when some of the others go on that fool of a camping trip.” “That would grant us few hours at best. And that wouldn’t eliminate everyone, especially the women. And the servants.” “Well, we’ve got to think about it more, don’t we?” Reine shook her head and pointed to the stairs. “I wonder what made Larrington and Diana think that there is a treasure hidden in the house.” “Who knows?” “Ira probably.” “I hope that little bit of reckless eavesdropping sated your curiosity.” “I just had to know.” “You still have some time to make it big as a reporter with that killer instinct of yours.” “Not funny. I’m not going to end up like another Lenora Weatherspoon.” “I didn’t say you would end up like another Lenora Weatherspoon.” They soon reached the third floor. He reluctantly let go of her hand and stuffed his own into the pockets of his robe. “I was thinking of hiking up to the old church the baroness was talking about. Want to come with me?” “I had planned on going there had Larrington not taken that path.” “I take that as a yes?” “Of course.” She yawned. “Well, I think I had enough excitement for the day. See you in the morning. I hope you have better dreams than me.” © 2002, S. Y. Affolee |