Vellum and Green Vitriol
Copyright © 2007, S. Y. Affolee
The Third Conjuration
Seal XXVIII
Dinner was a strained affair. One wouldn't imagine it to be strained, especially if one was eating alone, but it was. Especially if your dinner companion failed to show up in pursuit of prettier prey. But at least there were only a few other hotel guests at the dining hall to witness my embarrassment. Besides, none of them appeared to have paid any attention to me.
I felt restless, and made my way to the main lobby to take a seat on the sofa next to the fireplace. The stag head above the mantle piece stared out into space, glassy eyed. I was feeling a bit glassy eyed myself--I had managed to finish off quite a few glasses of pinot noir which had accompanied a succulent dish of veal and fennel. The whiskey I had before had probably numbed me too much to really appreciate the dish.
A low table nearby held a few periodicals and books. I picked up one of the books. Shakespeare's Midsummer's Night Dream. What better way to feel like one is moping about like a stubborn donkey's rear end than to read about a character whose head got turned into one?
"Good evening, Miss Talbot. Are you not turning in yet?" It was the desk clerk, Thomasina Chambers.
I didn't feel like socializing, but I didn't want to be rude either. "No, I'm not turning in yet. I'm waiting for my friend to get back. Meanwhile, I'll just do some reading."
"Would you like to have some coffee or hot chocolate while you wait?"
"Hot chocolate would be lovely."
When she left, I felt a pounding in my head--a tremendous headache. I winced and rubbed my temples. Hangovers were supposed to be for the next morning--not right after dinner.
Ana.
I jolted upright and twisted around. There was no one else in the lobby. For a moment, I could have sworn that Rhys had spoken to me. Maybe I was getting tired and hallucinating.
Ana. Where are you? I can't...
This time it was fainter. I blinked my eyes and rubbed my forehead. Maybe I really did need some sleep. It was either that or Rhys was speaking into my head again. Maybe I should have never lent him my energy during that fight with Blackthorne. Who knew in what sorts of ways I was now tied to him. Telepathy might only be the tip of the iceberg.
"Here you go, Miss Talbot. Is there anything else I can get you?" Thomasina had come back, bearing a black lacquered tray decorated with faux mother-of-pearl blossoms. The hot chocolate pot looked like a vase of white porcelain drawn with good luck symbols in blue glaze. Two matching cups sat next to the pot on the tray. The clerk put the tray down on the table and I put the book aside to pour myself a cup.
"Not at the moment," I replied. I took a sip of the hot chocolate. It was thick and slightly sweet. I peered over my cup to watch the clerk pour herself a cup and settle down on a chair across from me. I noticed that she had a rather large volume under her arm, but she made no move to open it. Apparently I would not be able to get out of socializing after all.
"I hope your stay has been pleasant so far."
I made a noncommittal sound at the back of my throat.
"I know you are eager to get to Haven, but is there no way I can convince you to stay in Newcomb to see the New Hallow's Eve festivities? For one thing, Newcomb is a little out of the way. There will be fewer tourists--unlike Haven."
"Is that true, or are you just trying to sell me on staying? After all, it will be good for your business."
"You are right. But many people prefer the more restful countryside for the holidays. Haven will be crowded with people. It would be very hard to get a peaceful rest there."
"I'm looking for a person, not a peaceful rest." I turned my head to watch the crackling flames in the hearth. The first several hundred years of my existence had been a peaceful rest. So peaceful, I might as well have developed mold if my previous owners had not occasionally taken me off the shelf to look up a spell.
The clerk regarded me with a skeptical expression as she was about to take a sip from her own hot chocolate. "You don't strike me as the adventuresome sort. You could have stayed at home and made telephone calls if you had wanted to instead of traveling all the way up here."
"You mean I look like the bookish sort of person." Well, I was a book, but I wasn't going to tell her that.
"I'm not trying to insult you. But I've seen many adventurous females come through this place. They have a certain sense of, I don't know, a go getting sort of attitude. They act as though life were a safari in Africa."
"Well, I think you probably do have it partly right. I have no desire to go around shooting large animals." I looked down, regarding my wool skirt. Uninteresting, plain, and not a little prim. But I wasn't going to don lavish colors because I wasn't that sort of person in public. It had been too ingrained in me to blend in, to make sure that the people around me didn't take notice and then realize that I wasn't really like them. "But that doesn't mean that anyone has a right to make assumptions about what I am simply because I look one way."
"So I shouldn't judge a book by its cover."
"Exactly. You can look at any newspaper and have that be confirmed. How many crimes do you hear about that are caused by people who look totally innocuous? Someone might not look like much, but perhaps he is planning to rob the local bank. Just because a woman is wearing pants and ties like men doesn't mean she's a suffragette. Maybe she's just following fashion."
"I suppose so."
I put down my cup and opened the Shakespeare. Then I looked pointedly at the book she had in her own arms. "What is that you're reading? It looks quite substantial."
"Oh, this?" She looked down at the tome. "It's The Mysteries of Udolpho by Ann Radcliffe. Gothic fiction. It's not as dreary as it may sound. It's quite exciting, really with all the strange and unusual circumstances happening to the main character." She sighed. "Sometimes I wish that something interesting would happen here at the manor. Maybe a few ghosts to liven things up, especially since All Hallow's Eve is coming up."
I shook my head. "I don't know about that."
* * *
The almost silent creak of the inn's front door made me crack an eye open. Sitting in front of the lobby hearth had been quite warm and cozy and I had managed to fall asleep on the couch while reading Shakespeare. The play was open on my lap to the beginning of the second scene of the third act. Discretely, I watched a group of women in evening gowns tiptoe across the floor. And then I saw Rhys. Alarm pounded through my veins, but something stopped me from jumping up and screaming. Circumspection and waiting for an opportunity would have to be my strategy. There was something odd about the group of women dragging his body away--something else more than drunken stupor kept Rhys unconscious.
"Mistress Arial!"
I nearly cringed in my false sleep at the surprised shout, but I kept my breathing even as Thomasina leaped out from her chair to hurry over to the Order of the Silver Moon.
"I almost didn't hear you and the priestesses arrive back from dinner. Can I help you with anything? Perhaps the Order would like to relax in the parlor with some evening drinks?"
Mistress Arial Goldenhair's voice was imperious and cold. "No."
The hotel clerk was undeterred. "We have all manner of spirits. Sherry? Gin? Whiskey? Rum?" Then she paused. "Oh my, is that Mr. Lattimore? He doesn't look well at all. What happened? Perhaps we should get the doctor."
The head priestess of the Order of the Silver Moon frowned. Lines marred her perfect porcelain countenance. She reached out and touched Thomasina on the forehead with a finger. The clerk crumpled to the floor.
With that obstacle taken care of, Mistress Arial motioned to the rest of the priestesses and they moved with her toward the back of the lobby--to the double doors leading to the dining hall. The doors had been locked after the dinner hour, but with only a motion of a hand, the doors swung open. They went inside, dragging Rhys with them.
|