Storm Glass (The Harbinger Series Book 1) Page 18

  Mrs. Pullman was biding her time, training the next generation. Stephen would become like the grandfather, not like his own father. In time, Mrs. Pullman’s will would rule once again at Fog Willows, and it would be for the good of the family. The grandfather had become prime minister for a season, after all. The family’s fortunes had changed because of his shrewd decisions. He had been a true Fitzroy. But the waif had to go. She had to be persuaded to leave.

  Cettie didn’t understand why all these thoughts were jumbling inside her head. Why it felt that she could hear what Mrs. Pullman was thinking as she stood outside the door. The thoughts were dark and terrible. They made her feel sick inside.

  And then she heard a key slip into the lock and twist. The lock clicked fast into place.

  This is the room. But not tonight. Not while the master is here.

  Yes, madame.

  Cettie recognized the voice of the thought. She had heard its taunts before. Cettie shrank beneath the bedsheets. It was the tall ghost. The one with no eyes.

  It had finally found her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  ROOKS

  It was a long, anxious night. No matter how Cettie tried to control her thoughts, she could still hear it over and over again, the clicking noise of the key in the lock and the silent exchange between Mrs. Pullman and the ghost. How had Mrs. Pullman summoned the tall ghost to Fog Willows? How had she known that it was the one Cettie feared most?

  She knew it wouldn’t come for her that night, but it would happen. Mrs. Pullman would get her way, no matter what. And she wouldn’t just punish Cettie—she would punish Anna, too. Anna, who wouldn’t even see the thing that tormented her. The thought of her friend suffering made her screw up her courage. She would explain the situation to Fitzroy before he left them again. She had to, even if Mrs. Pullman witnessed her doing it.

  Cettie awoke the next morning to the sound of the lock being turned. It was dawn, and Mrs. Pullman was already up and around. Anna still slept, and for a moment Cettie was tempted to lie abed. But she rose, dressed quietly, and then made her way out to the gazebo trail to practice with Raj Sarin. The cold made her shiver, but the storm had passed, and the clouds had all been tamed, though they lingered in the western sky. It was a beautiful morning, and although she was tired from lying awake half the night, she felt a throb of hope that things would get better after she finally shared the truth with Fitzroy.

  “Good morning, Cettie Saeed,” Raj Sarin said with a smile of greeting, not interrupting his stance, which she recognized as crane searches the water for fish.

  She quickly joined his posture, mimicking his actions. “What does Saeed mean? Is it from your mother tongue?”

  “It is,” he answered. “It means . . . Cettie of the Clouds.”

  It was Raj Sarin’s way of saying that she belonged at Fog Willows. Her heart warmed at the sentiment. By the time she had finished the exercises, she was no longer cold, and she had learned several new stances and forms.

  Anna was up and getting ready by the time Cettie returned. She normally slept in later, but she could be counted on to rise early if the reason was good, and apparently spending time with Adam Creigh was an ample enticement.

  The family ate the morning meal together punctually, except the schedule was a little laxer on the days when Fitzroy wasn’t home. When one of the children showed up later than usual, he would sometimes say, in his understated way, “Early is on time.” Cettie didn’t know what it meant, but she always strove to be early to breakfast.

  The meals were never eaten in silence. Phinia was very exuberant and always had something to say, and Stephen could be counted on for his share of witty remarks. Anna was usually quiet around the others. Adam’s presence at the family meals shifted the normal routine. He received much of the attention as the family asked him about his experiences working with the doctor at Dolcoath.

  “Mama,” Phinia asked breathlessly, “is Adam invited to the Hardings’ ball as well? They know he is staying with us, surely.” Without even waiting for an answer, she turned her eyes on his eagerly. “You’re a very good dancer now, Adam. I shouldn’t be ashamed to stand up with you at the ball. Just try not to squash my toes!”

  “I will do my best not to,” Adam replied, trying not to smile. He seemed discomfited by all the attention.

  Lady Maren and Fitzroy sat next to each other, not on opposite ends of the table as some couples did. They usually held hands during breakfast, which Cettie found very charming. Lady Maren gave her husband a covert look and then answered, “Yes, Phinia. The invitation specifically included Mr. Creigh.” She paused a moment and, before Phinia could interject another comment, added, “And Cettie is also coming.”

  A look of disappointment clouded Phinia’s face. “Oh? But she’s not of age, Mother.”

  “Neither is Anna and she is coming, too,” Lady Maren said pointedly. “And I do recall a certain young lady who begged and received permission to attend her first Harding ball at twelve. We will all be there to help chaperone. It’s not my youngest two that I’m worried about.”

  A strangled silence fell across the table. Phinia’s cheeks were flushed, but she wisely said nothing.

  “My sister may be paying a visit soon,” Lady Maren went on in a more cheerful tone.

  “Which one?” Stephen asked, always in control. Always a little aloof.

  “Aunt Juliana.”

  Phinia’s enthusiasm was restored. “I adore Aunt Juliana! Has she finished the trading deal with Atovincia? She’s so clever. Will she be coming to the ball?”

  “If the weather holds,” Lady Maren said. “I wish everyone could come, but my mother is getting very old, and Ariah has her hands full caring for her.” Cettie watched as Fitzroy gently stroked his wife’s knuckles with his thumb. He gave her a tender look, one that promised a visit in the near future. Cettie wondered whether Lady Maren’s sisters lived above or below. No one had ever told her, and it seemed wrong to ask.

  The morning meal ended shortly thereafter, and Adam fulfilled his promise by taking Cettie and Anna on a walk of the grounds. They passed over the stone bridge that connected two separately floating sections of the grounds. Even though the sky was clear, there were clouds beneath the bridge, which made the crossing less frightening. Cettie and Anna held hands as they went over it.

  “When we were younger,” Anna told Cettie, “we used to have to dance across the bridge. Stephen said it was the only way we could keep from falling off. He was only teasing, but he said it so seriously that we all did it for years.”

  “I remember that,” Adam said with a chuckle. They walked at a languid pace, never rushing. Adam pointed out some of the rock formations and their similarities to Dolcoath.

  “The tree roots have burrowed into the seams and cracks of the stone and cling with a tenacious grip. The trunks are even firmer up here than their sister trees in Dolcoath. I asked Fitzroy about it, and he said that it’s because of the wind. Trees become hardier when exposed to rougher environments. The trees of Fog Willows, even the willows themselves, are tougher because they live in the clouds than they would be if they grew in a calm, quiet valley down below. He wouldn’t explain why, but he said I’d learn it in school.”

  “I can’t wait to go to school,” Anna said with a sigh.

  “At the schools, you study all of the Mysteries, do you not?” Cettie wondered.

  Adam nodded encouragingly. “Yes. But you must pick one to master. They are far too intricate for one person to learn them at that level. Now, do you see that outcropping of rock over there?” He gestured with a finger. “We’re going down that little ridge off the path. That’s where the rooks are roosting.”

  Cettie felt a pulse of alarm. It was such a long way down. “Fitzroy warned me never to leave the path.”

  “He showed me the rooks himself,” Adam said. “And I already obtained his permission to bring you here this morning.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “Staying on the path is a wise course, e
specially when an area is new and the risk of danger is high. It will be all right.”

  She trusted his assurance, and, before she knew it, she was scrambling over the rocks with the others. Mrs. Pullman’s tower loomed above them, and she couldn’t help but wonder if the keeper of the house was watching them from one of the many windows. That was an unnerving thought, but she tried to focus on stepping gracefully from one broken rock to another. Anna clung to her hand as they both negotiated the path. Adam bounded easily ahead of them, and soon all three were flushed from the descent. They followed the gorge but had not yet begun to climb up the other side.

  “Watch for the moss growing in the shadows,” Adam warned. As they reached the bottom of the small gorge, their view of the manor was obscured.

  When they reached a spot with a long gap between the rocks, Adam waited on the other side and held out his hand, helping each of them step across.

  “We’re almost there,” he said. They continued along the bottom of the gorge, and the way became tangled with rocks and scrub. When they rounded an outcrop of rock, they started up the other side, which was steeper. It was an enjoyable climb, not too difficult but strenuous enough that it made breathing a struggle. But the noise of the rooks banished any thought of discomfort.

  At last, they reached their destination, and Cettie could see the proud black birds perched in the trees on the edge of the mass of rock.

  “We won’t go any farther,” Adam said, finding a large lopsided rock and gesturing for them both to sit down. He squatted at the edge of the boulder. A trickle of sweat raced down the side of his face, but he seemed oblivious to it.

  “The crows up here are bigger than they are down below,” he explained, directing their eyes toward the birds. “If you look at the upper third of the branches, you can see their massive nests. The trees are all full of them. They’re easier to see in the autumn when the leaves have fallen. The trees are skeletal then, and the nests stand out.”

  Cettie squinted, watching one of the birds as it landed in a tree. “I see a nest!” she exclaimed. She pointed to Anna to help her.

  “Excellent!” Adam said. “There are probably forty to fifty birds living in this rookery. A group of this size is called a parliament.”

  Anna looked at him in surprise. “Like the government? How curious.”

  “I thought so as well,” Adam said. “Fitzroy explained that these birds have unusual customs. For example, they mate for life. If a bird loses its mate, it will not attach to another bird for the rest of its life. We don’t see that behavior mimicked in our world, do we? The other curious thing about them, and what earned them the name parliament, is that they will gather around a single crow in a cluster. They’ll grunt and caw as if they’re debating a law. And then, as if the judge has found the crow to be guilty, they will all pounce on him and peck him to death!”

  “How awful,” Cettie said, shrinking inside. “Have you seen it happen?”

  “I have,” he answered. “It happened my first time here, when Fitzroy showed me this place.”

  “Why do the crows kill one another?” Cettie asked.

  Adam rubbed his chin. “No one knows. But like all Mysteries, it’s just waiting for someone with the right mind to come along and answer the question.” He rapped his knuckles on the stone beneath him. “I mean, if you drop a stone, it will fall. Unless it doesn’t. Once you understand the principle of something, it is no longer a Mystery.”

  “There are so many of them,” Anna said, gazing in wonder at all the birds. It seemed as if the rooks had finally taken notice of them, because they were growing noisier and noisier.

  “Noisy brutes, aren’t they?” Adam said with a laugh.

  Cettie was grateful he had suggested bringing them there. It was enjoyable seeing this new aspect of Fog Willows. How many more hidden places existed here?

  The sun warmed Cettie’s shoulders as the three of them sat on the rock, talking and observing the birds.

  “Look, a zephyr!” Anna suddenly called out, pointing. It was coming from the west, so they had a full view of it as it approached the floating estate. There was no doubt that it was coming their way.

  Seeing it brought back memories of her first ride up to Fog Willows. How long ago it seemed. Other memories started to surface as she watched the airship approach. Of the scoldings and beatings Miss Charlotte had given her. Of the desperate feelings of hunger that had ravaged her insides day and night. She thought about the children sometimes. Their whimpers and cries at night. The ghosts of the dead that haunted the tenements. Especially the tall one. A shudder ran through her.

  “Are you all right, Cettie?”

  Adam was gazing at her in concern. She tried to smile, but it felt forced. She simply nodded.

  Cettie Saeed. That was the name Raj Sarin had given her.

  Cettie of the Clouds.

  Right now, she felt more like Cettie of the Fells.

  She looked at Adam. “When the rooks pass judgment, do any of the other crows intervene to save the one condemned?”

  He looked at her curiously, then shook his head no.

  “A zephyr always brings news,” Anna said, squeezing her arm. “Let’s go back.”

  By the time they reached the path, the zephyr had already landed. They could see it suspended above the landing pad, the rope ladder dangling. It looked exactly like the zephyr that Lieutenant Staunton had come on. As they approached, a little breathless from the pace, Cettie realized the man standing there was Lieutenant Staunton. He looked just as she remembered him, and a pit opened in her stomach. Worries came wriggling out, like a loose brick overturned to reveal a nest of cowering insects.

  “Hello again, ma’am,” Lieutenant Staunton said, nodding to her.

  Cettie’s throat went dry. Was it coincidence that he’d returned?

  Then she saw Fitzroy coming from the doors wearing his thick overcoat, the one he had given her to keep her warm. He was being called on again. No, he couldn’t be leaving. Not so soon.

  “What is it, Father?” Anna asked with true concern. Adam’s brow furrowed.

  Fitzroy saw Cettie and paused, his brows drawing together. He looked agitated and distressed. “I thought I’d have to find you at the rookery. I’m glad you are back.” He turned to Adam and Anna. “If you’d give us a moment, please.”

  “Of course,” Adam said in a hushed tone. He and Anna stepped away.

  The ground was tilting. Cettie felt herself go dizzy.

  “Cettie,” Fitzroy said. “Do you remember Lieutenant Staunton?”

  “I do,” she answered thickly.

  “He brought news from my advocate, Mr. Sloan.” He was wringing his hands behind his back. That wasn’t a good sign. His voice dropped even lower, and she struggled to hear it. “He thinks he’s found your parents. I need to go with him to be sure. I’ll return as soon as I can.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY–ONE

  THE FELLS

  Cettie feared she would vomit. The news didn’t fill her with excitement; it filled her with blackness. She had no memory of her parents, other than the dim impressions of a man, possibly her father, in uniform. Whoever her parents were, she had been deeded as a small child. Some of the homes she’d been sent to had been very bad. If her parents were truly alive, they’d never looked for her. They clearly didn’t care that she was alive—and yet they could ruin everything.

  She didn’t want to leave Fog Willows. She didn’t want to abandon her new life. Tears stung her eyes, and she looked down, feeling miserable.

  Fitzroy put his hand on her shoulder. “Mr. Sloan is very good at what he does. Things are not totally certain. That’s why I want to go myself.”

  She looked up at him, her heart in her throat. “Can I come, too, please?” she begged. If she stayed, Mrs. Pullman would attack her and Anna tonight. She’d send the tall ghost in to torment them.

  He frowned. She could tell he wanted to save her pain. That he was experiencing pain himself. The pain of dashed hop
es. The pain of a wretched decision.

  “I think it would be for the best if you did,” he finally answered. “Fetch a cloak.”

  She did as he asked and quickly boarded the zephyr. The return went quickly compared to the journey to Lockhaven or Dolcoath. It was strange how close they were to the Fells, which felt a lifetime away. Her sense of distance and perspective had altered.

  As the zephyr glided down, Cettie stared at the approaching ramshackle roofs, her heart full of pain and dread. As she began to smell the soot, her body trembled. In her mind, she thought about snake resting in a pool and fierce tiger rakes its claws.

  Courage, Cettie Saeed, she told herself. It is better to know than to not know.

  A gentle hand touched her shoulder, and when she looked up, she saw Fitzroy’s concerned face. Surely part of him was tempted to let her go now that her parents had been found. It would free him to receive the office he had wanted, to rise to a position from which he could help other children like herself.

  “How are you holding up, Cettie?” he asked her in his kind way.

  “I’m not afraid,” she answered. And, truly, fear wasn’t the feeling that troubled her. It was the suspense of not knowing what would happen to her. It was the dread of possibly returning to the Fells permanently. Of fending off the ghosts each and every night.

  “You’re a brave little woman, then,” he said wryly. “I’ll be afraid for both of us.”

  “Are you afraid, Fitzroy?” she asked him in surprise. She remembered how boldly he had stood against the creature from the grotto—the menace that had threatened the village of Dolcoath.

  “I don’t want to lose you to this place,” he said, eyes full of despair as he gazed at the scene unfolding below them.