Rebecca began to deliver sharp orders. “Alexi, have house wardens gather staff and students immediately into the auditorium. I’ll need everyone’s help to keep order. We must use whatever means necessary—all our usual tricks—to convince students and staff that Athens is granting them an enjoyable respite, nothing more. Then, my friends, we will shut ourselves within these walls for a siege.”
Percy realized there was no specific task for her. She had no usual place in The Guard’s work, had no established methodology to aid them. Yet, she had work of her own.
The others walked ahead, falling in behind Rebecca’s brisk tread. Alexi led Percy to the side of the hallway and said, “Percy, I’ll meet you in your office.”
“No. Meet me in the sacred space. I must study that map.”
“Percy, I’ll not have you in there a—”
“Come for me when you’ve dispatched everyone,” she interrupted.
“I told you: you must stay by my side today.”
“Sitting alone and useless in my office isn’t by your side. Alexi, if the great maw of the Whisper-world is to open and bear down on us, I’d like to be prepared. That map is the only clue we have.”
Alexi sighed. He lifted his hand to touch her face, but he was stopped by the passing students glancing at them out of the corners of their eyes. “My desperation in wanting to see you safe trumps all,” he murmured. “But, go. I’ll come once staff and students are on their way. Just…don’t go in.”
“We’ve time yet,” she replied. It was a reassurance but no promise. Alexi clenched his jaw and his fists and stalked away.
Her tread was weary as she walked to the Athens chapel. She tried to think of how beautiful her wedding had been, of how much she loved Alexi and was lucky to have found him, and thoughts of how she had indeed been provided for brought some consolation. In a rear pew she found Mina Wilberforce staring in consternation at the windows.
The librarian glanced up as she approached, and pointed down the line of amber-glass angels. “There are seven. There were six. How can one explain that? I pray its God’s work here, but I fear…” She trailed off, shaking her head.
“Have faith,” Percy murmured. “Staff and students gather in the auditorium as we speak. Perhaps you’d like to join them.”
“And you?”
Percy eyed the chapel. “If the devil’s at work here, I think I’d best pray.” She couldn’t assure others of their sanity and have any remaining for herself.
“Indeed. Well, then. Bless you, dear girl.”
“And you.”
Left alone, Percy took a deep breath.
Darting up the aisle, she threw her arm forward, opening the dark doorway and descending the stairs into the centre of The Guard’s mysterious space, which she’d never entirely comprehend. Pulling the key from her chain, she bent at the centre of the floor and turned it in the feather. There came the usual grating sound, and the rush of blue fire to which she was now accustomed. She almost pressed her face down into it as the patterns again formed themselves on the floor; their tingling power was an intoxicant.
Instead, she rose and paced the perimeter of the map, determining the precise, rectangular lines of Athens; the courtyard in the middle, Promethe and Apollo halls, the girls’ and boys’ dormitories. Beyond that familiar floor plan, the flames were taller in some places, and she murmured, “Perhaps those are spaces of spirit world import? And surely this cannot be the whole of that realm. Surely there are parts to defy mortal sensibilities.” The red dot slowly traversed a circular space, the mark of a key still above it. Inside, the swath filled with blue.
Despite her better judgment, Percy moved closer. She bent to examine the circular area of blue—a space she hoped was filled with friends—and noticed that just outside its delineated lines of fire, there was moisture…and a murmur. A faint sound of rushing water. A river? Surely. Of course there would be a river. The river.
Alexi’s footfall on the stair made her jump. “Well?” It was quite obvious he disapproved of her initiative.
“I’ve determined what is Athens and what may be what you call the Whisper-world. The flame has different heights there; the spaces are more circular. Of course, the more my eyes get used to the map, the more I believe that we only see those spaces of the Whisper-world that extend off from Athens, only those spaces that are meaningful to our fight. I cannot believe such a thing as the spirit realm would be an addition to an academy.” She smiled wryly.
Alexi hummed. “The red mark circles that same sea of blue, perhaps patrolling our troops. And, look. Did you notice these?” He pointed to places on the Athens perimeter that bled outward. At each juncture, a brighter horizontal line floated. On the scale of the map, each was about the height of a door.
“Beatrice’s doors. We can see where they lead,” Percy exclaimed.
“We’ve no idea where they’ll lead,” Alexi argued. “Or what’s waiting on the other side.”
“We should leave the map open. We’ve no idea when any one of these doors might burst open. This map surely can’t be seen from the other side, else Beatrice would have warned us, and who knows when the information will be helpful.”
Alexi set his jaw but said nothing.
Percy didn’t bother to ask if he heard the ticking of a clock. She assumed he didn’t. But she did—ticking away the seconds of her life, or the seconds until battle. It was by far the most maddening development yet. She held out her hand, and Alexi took it, reluctantly leaving the key in the floor. They exited the sacred space, the flames licking low and steady behind them.
“Shall you pass time with me in my office?” Alexi asked. As they stepped out into the chapel, the dark doorway snapped shut behind them.
“Yes. A fire and tea would be lovely. And to think about—”
Alexi took and lifted her arm, indicated how badly her hands were shaking. When she just chuckled in response, he secured his arm around her waist and walked her toward his office. Neither said anything, simply nodded to passing students looking deliriously drugged as they carried their bags home for early holiday. Percy hoped these ghostly trials would be done by Christmas and that, as in Dickens’s Carol, they’d all be granted their due blessings.
In his office, Alexi lit candelabra and a fire in the hearth with a wave of his hand. He turned on his ornate phonograph, a bit of soothing Bach. Percy readied tea and held it out. He warmed it with a flick of his hand, and they sat, worlds away from the simple time when their biggest mystery was her visions—and the pleasant revelation that they both could see ghosts.
It would seem his office was a catalyst for visions. This time, Percy saw a portal. Beatrice stood within, seeming to indicate that it would soon be time. A bright blue transparent feather of flame floated before her face.
Alexi didn’t seem to notice Percy’s distraction; he was busy adding drops of alcohol into his tea from the flask Rebecca had given Elijah. “Were you always so fond of sherry?” she asked.
“Not nearly as much as I am of late.”
Percy nodded. She couldn’t blame him. Listlessly, she rose and went to the alcove that served as a makeshift room behind a protruding bookshelf. She lifted the lid of a small trunk Alexi had packed for them, and brought out their garments to hang on the adjacent coat tree. If they were going to wait out this war, at least they’d have some fresh clothing. She had, as Beatrice directed, brought a soft slate-coloured dress.
Peering inside the chest, Percy noticed her pearl rosary. Like a long-lost treasure, she picked it up and brought it to her lips, thankful to have something with which to busy her fingers. Then she returned to Alexi at his desk and sat upon his knee.
He perused a diary. “My first thoughts of you,” he murmured, staring at the pages.
Percy smiled. “And?”
“Clinical. I wrote clinical thoughts. I couldn’t admit how much I loved you until you were nearly dead in my arms. And you hang on the precipice of danger now, Percy, making me realize it all
the more. I…” He looked away, strangled by emotion. “I swear, if you take chances with your life, I’ll never…”
Percy kissed his face.
He jumped up, setting her on her feet before him. “Let me go instead,” he said desperately. “Let me set this in motion. Let me go rather than you, Percy. I’m meant to protect you! I cannot simply let you go; it’s against every principle I…I cannot bear to lose you.”
“Alexi, my love. My dear champion.” Percy put her hand on his lips. “You’ll go mad if you so much as step across. None of us can take that risk. The Guard, London and I—we all need you whole.”
“And what ensures you your mind will fare better?”
She shrugged. “Because I am not like you. Because they tell me it was once home.”
Alexi pounded his desk, tears in his eyes. “Your home is here with me!”
“I’ve never doubted that, and I never will, husband,” she said. “Please be sure to never doubt my love.”
“I don’t. I simply cannot bear that something might happen. I cannot…” His voice broke again.
“When The Guard convinced you fate was not on our side, you parted ways with me and saw fit to make me suffer,” she stated. The pain on Alexi’s face worsened, and he opened his mouth to refute her. She put her hands lovingly to his cheeks. “We survived. Our love survived. And we shall again.”
He stared at her in wonder. “How did my dear girl grow so brave?”
Percy grinned. “Didn’t you hear? The meek shall inherit the earth.” Alexi couldn’t help but chuckle, a tear rolling down his cheek. She kissed him passionately and retreated. “But now I need Michael. I’d like him to pray with me.”
As Percy suspected, she found the vicar not far from Rebecca’s office. Around them, the school was emptying, obedient and dazed students following The Guard’s instruction. Elijah slumped near the main door, clearly exhausted. Josephine stood beside him, shifting on her feet. Michael sat on a bench nearby, reading. Percy fiddled with the beads in her hand.
The vicar looked up and unleashed one of those winning smiles that could brighten any day. “Hullo, Mrs. Rychman. Shocked to see Alexi let you out of his sight, but glad we have the honour of your company.”
Percy smiled wanly and sat beside him. She glanced at his book. “The Castle of Otranto?”
“It’s positively dreadful.” He nodded and laughed. “I adore it. But you’re not here to discuss literature with me,” he stated, waggling his mustache as she smirked. “I’d say you’re looking pale, but that’s a ridiculous redundancy.”
She nodded, turning the beads in her fingertips, unable to find the words she needed.
She didn’t need any. He glanced at her hands and clasped them in his, lowering his head. “ ‘In the beginning was the Word. And the Word was with God and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not anything made. That which has been made was life in him and the life was the light of mankind. The Light shines in the Darkness and the Darkness has not overcome it.’”
Percy’s hands warmed and pulsed with power. Michael sent something soft and wonderful through their fingers, as if a dove of blessed assurance were cupped gently in her hands, as if hope now infused each pearl rosary bead. He moved her hands upward and said, “Keep it close to you.”
She nodded. Reaching under the ribbon trim of her dress, Percy tucked the rosary inside her corset, directly against her bosom. The beads seemed to pick up her heartbeat and magnify it. “Thank you, Vicar, for knowing just what I needed.”
“Of course.”
Percy rose and walked away, but she bit her lip, realizing there was something else. She rushed back and fell to her knees before him, their hands again clasped. “There are times when we must make sure all things left unsaid might be said. If something should happen to me, please impress my unfailing love upon Alexi, my greatest treasure, his love worth a thousand deaths. And you’d best make sure you leave nothing unsaid either. None of us should.”
Michael stared up at her. “I should tell her,” he murmured. The concept was clearly more terrifying to him than spiritual warfare.
“Yes.” Percy smiled meekly. “I think you should.”
Michael nodded, blushed and returned to his book.
The day had darkened swiftly. Percy was about to wander back to Alexi’s office when he jumped out from behind a pillar and startled the very wits out of her. Gasping, she batted a hand at him as he scooped her up into his arms.
“W-why on earth?” she stammered.
“You’ve seen ghosts and Gorgons. You’re willing to stare down the whole of the Whisper-world. I thought nothing could frighten you.” His tone was teasing, but a mournful truth lay beneath.
She reached a hand to his face. “Losing you. That is a terror from which I could never recover.”
Alexi pursed his lips. Percy thought she saw a glimmer of a tear. He set her on her feet and swept her up the grand staircase.
“Alexi, what are you—?”
“Recalling my fondest memory,” he murmured, taking her hand and spinning her across Promethe Hall’s upper floor. They were in a stately foyer bathed in a soft purple dusk shifting toward moonlight—similar to when Alexi once discovered Percy when she thought no one would miss her if she stole away at the academy ball, awkward and unloved, to this very floor. But her dear professor had found her, had waltzed her through starlight and shadows that became chaperone to burgeoning adoration.
Percy heard a bow strike a string, and a note of music rose like steam into the air. She turned to see Jane with her fiddle, winking. Another note came, then another, a lilting little waltz to recall them to that moment they first dared dream.
“May I have this dance, Persephone?”
Percy beamed. “Oh, please, Professor.”
He lifted her gracefully into the dance he’d once taught her in his office. She now seamlessly followed Alexi’s lead, and they spun in and out of widening silver moonlit shafts, the sparkle in his dark eyes and the press of his hand giving her thrills that would keep her forever blushing for love of him.
She giggled as he spun her beneath his arm and snapped her back in an artful turn. “Ah, for more innocent times, Alexi.”
He almost smiled. “I hate to ruin your reminiscence, but I abandoned you that night to deal with our canine friend who almost cleaved poor Jane in two. Hardly more innocent. And not long ago.”
Percy winced. “How funny the mind, and memory. I feel ages older!”
“We all are, I suppose. Responsibilities weight wisdom.”
“I was so eager for answers to my strange portents.”
“After a longer life than yours, I’d say to be careful what you wish.”
Percy chuckled. “Yes, yes, I should’ve never left the convent.”
Alexi clutched her passionately, hands roaming free. “I daresay you can’t go back.” She squealed and laughed, feeling blessedly at ease.
They danced, and Jane played. Breaking every rule the Whisper-world sought to impose upon him, Aodhan appeared at Jane’s side, his love its own portal. He didn’t stay long, nodding to Percy as he disappeared, but his solemn gaze was a promise that he didn’t take his responsibility for granted, his raised hand a reassurance that her friend still lived.
The trio’s mood grew lighter as the moon rose higher. More of The Guard appeared, and Percy was delighted as Elijah and Josephine joined them in their impromptu ball. Michael stood beaming, leaning against the balustrade and taking in his fellows, offering an occasional, beautifully delivered verse.
For a little while the dread of death lifted from the halls of Athens.
Distant music lured Rebecca from her office. A keening fiddle, she assumed it was Jane’s work.
She crept up the staircase, hearing murmurs and the occasional laugh. Hanging to the shadows a few steps from the landing, she took in the scene. Elijah and Josephine were arm in arm, swaying beside Jane as she playe
d. Michael sang a soft and tender verse. Had she never realized the lovely timbre of his voice? They used their voices all the time. But that was the Work. This was their life. Their life was capable of simple, wondrous delights, perhaps, if she ever let herself enjoy them. He turned to look upon her at the words, “I’ll be your paramour…”
Rebecca’s throat closed and she turned away from Michael to stare at the couple before her. Alexi and Percy waltzed slowly through shafts of moonlight. They clearly delighted in their languorous steps, having lost all unmarried formality and strict upright carriage to press confidently close. A moonlit Percy was nothing short of an angel, graceful and blinding white, radiating love as pure as her skin was pale. Alexi, her stalwart protector, stared as if he couldn’t bear to blink and lose sight of her for a moment. Rebecca silently retreated, letting tears come as they would.
She glided to the corner of the downstairs foyer, looking out over the courtyard awash with bright silver, the starkness of the moonlight matched the dawning realization in her soul: the pain of seeing them together would never lessen. Her little group faced more danger than they’d ever known, and all Rebecca could think about was how much she wished her life were otherwise, that all their lives were otherwise, that Alexi would finally realize she was the only woman for him. She had been with him all along, loving him from the very start, twenty years prior.
Shame on such thoughts. He and Percy were so stirringly beautiful, waltzing together. Only a villain would think otherwise. Pressing her forehead to the window, she welcomed the cool glass on her skin and felt the bright moon on her face, wondering how the creases of worry and loneliness must show like scars of battle.
“I know that certain things do not unfold according to our desires.”
The Darkly Luminous Fight for Persephone Parker Page 25
