His Black Wings

by Astrid Yrigollen

  “Can you forgive me for putting you in danger?”

  “Yes of course. You did not know and you only wished to help me.” He squeezed my hand then let it go.

  “Thank you for that my dear. You are very kind just as your aunt always said.”

  The time had passed by quickly and the train had covered several hundred miles. The October sky was brushed with water colors of pink and yellow. We were heading in to the country away from city lights and soon darkness would be upon us. Mr. Lowood continued.

  “I thought it best that we leave for my estate, my main home. I did not want to take the chance that this Kurten fellow find you again.”

  “Yes, I…I didn’t know what to think when Mary told me about the girl that was murdered and the note.” A wave of nausea engulfed me when I remembered it was my name on the body.

  “That is a concern of mine also Claren, however it might have been a coincidence. I do not think this fellow would find you, no matter how much of a scoundrel he appears to be, then risk everything he has to scare you in this manner. You must put it out of your mind at once. You will be safe now if you wish it, you can have a place with me.”

  I tilted my head to one side again not knowing what he was offering. He smiled and removed his pipe from its case that he always carried with him. Before he lit it he pushed a button on a side console that opened a vent that sucked out his smoke so that anyone else sitting in this private car would not even be able to smell that he was smoking.

  “Smart girl, you are already wondering at what price I offer this safety. It’s true Claren. I am offering you something, but wish for something in exchange. Will you hear me out?”

  What choice did I have?

  “Yes.”

  “I have a son as you know. He is close to your age, well maybe a little older, twenty two. He is quite intelligent and curious in fashion. He lives with me, but you might not ever see him. He is quite shy I am afraid and does not do well with strangers.”

  “Then why Sir, are you bringing me in to your home if my presence will make him uncomfortable?”

  “Because he needs someone, someone to talk to that is not me. He has been isolated for so long. You see, he does not leave the house, ever.”

  “Why is that?” I asked, suddenly very curious about his son. He took a puff from his pipe and looked at me for a long moment, holding my gaze. I was beginning to wonder if he was going to tell me. I could sense his hesitation as he exhaled.

  “Because he is severely disfigured. He is unlike other young men and his disfigurement is such that he cannot hide it with cosmetics or with a coat.”

  I flinched inwardly. The kind of disfigurement he seemed to be describing seemed unimaginable. I supposed he had no option other than to hide, especially now that “beauty surgery” had been banned almost one hundred years ago by the Grand Council. My mother had told me that “cosmetic surgery” had been the rage for thousands of years. People would spend hundreds of thousands of Dumas on one procedure. Scientists revealed that it was not only altering our perception of human beauty, but also having severe negative effects on the psyche. It was causing people to look less human with popular procedures that elongated their noses past their mouths and altered their eyes to make them huge and wide spread.

  I had only seen pictures in books at school of these people. Now we were taught that each person is beautiful and unique. Generally, people are now happy with their appearance. If they are not, they can always use cosmetics or change the color of their hair, but any type of flesh altering surgery is banned unless a person’s life is in danger. I wondered what type of deformity his son had as Mr. Lowood continued.

  “You see, I need you to be his friend if you are able. He might not even show himself to you, that is a chance that I take. However, my duty to your aunt is fulfilled, I have taken you away from that situation that you were in. In return, I only ask that perhaps you can help me, help my son. That is my heartache.”

  It was hard to consider all the different possibilities. What if his son has a foul temperament such as Kurten?

  I could not live with someone like that. There would be no peace.

  Mr. Lowood tapped his pipe against the polished wood armrest and answered as if he had read my mind.

  “I want you to know that if it doesn’t work out Claren, you can always find another place. I will help you. I don’t want you to think that you are stuck with us. I won’t lie to you. My son may never choose to even talk to you. He can be like a ghost, moving around our old estate. Or he may choose to be wrathful and angry that there is a stranger living with us.”

  It made me feel better that he said I was not to be obligated to stay if things did not work out.

  “I am just not sure if I can do any good Mr. Lowood.” He smiled.

  “Neither am I, but I have hopes Claren. Without hopes, dreams and faith, one cannot live.” He held out his hand to me which I took.

  “All I ask is for a chance.” He said.

  Westwind

  Mr. Lowood had hired a carriage to take us from the train station to his home. The only carriage available was one being pulled by two steam horses. He patted one on its side before he joined me in the carriage.

  “We have horses, real horses on our estate. I hope you know how to ride Claren.” He shut the carriage door and the driver set off.

  “Real horses Sir?” I asked absently mindedly scratching Naza’s head. She was glad to be out of the train and looked outside the carriage windows excitedly. He nodded and smiled.

  “Yes, real horses are the best. While these mechanical beasts do serve their function, there is nothing like riding a real horse.” I smiled weakly, I had been afraid of real horses since I was a child. Their immense size frightened me.

  “I’m afraid my mother never let me be around horses. She was always afraid they would kick out.”

  “And her fear was contagious I take it?” He asked.

  “Yes. Plus there aren’t too many real horses in St.Marhen. Not enough space for them I suppose. While our own house was adequate, there was hardly any room to keep horses.”

  “Well, it will be my pleasure to introduce you to our horses, and hopefully after a time you will grow to love them as I do.” He smiled warmly. His eyes, even though they were ice blue, could appear warm to me, this was one of those times.

  “Ah, here we are Claren, here is the family manse, Westwind,soon to be your home. I think it looks rather nice from this vantage.” The coach turned down a long private road to the estate. I leaned out the window struggling for room against Naza, who refused to give me an inch.

  The front lawn was wide and expansive. Dark green and neatly clipped, I wondered what it would feel like to step on it with bare feet. Two pebble roads on either side of the lawn had a line of wind breaking trees, a type of Spruce I was not familiar with. As we were carried further down the road towards the house, I saw a large rectangle pool of black water in the middle of the lawn. There were lily pads dotting its surface and stone benches placed at different intervals where one may sit, to watch the fish I presumed.

  When the house itself came into my view I felt my heart give a start. It was the house I had dreamed of. The front of the house was in a traditional salt box style, yet had battlements on the roof. If you looked at it straight on, it was box shaped with a flat roof with many windows decorating the front. Its gray exterior seemed to lend to a brooding and depressing air.

  “Now cast your gaze to the top battlements, my dear.” Mr. Lowood said as the carriage stopped in front of the house. Naza jumped out of the carriage door as Mr. Lowood opened it. He smiled good naturedly at her then followed suit. He turned and held his hand out to me. I took it and stepped out. My legs felt stiff from the long train ride and I longed to take my shoes and stockings off.

  I looked up at the battlements and for a moment. I thought I saw movement, something dark between the embrasures.

  “The gargoyles actually do work as rain spouts. The
y were the main reason why I had to purchase this house. Of course. if you stand directly underneath one you will get very wet and very pummeled by a spout of rain.”

  Though it was now dark I studied the six gargoyles that had attached themselves underneath the battlements. The moonlight being cast was bright enough to allow me to see their expressions. They did not appear sinister to me with their horns and fangs, rather they looked sad.

  “So what do you think? Frightening? Repulsive?” Mr. Lowood chided as he took my arm and led me to the front door.

  “No, not at all. I have a fondness for statues with character.”

  “So they don’t frighten you?” He asked while looking intently into my eyes. The front door was opened by a servant who bowed. Mr. Lowood nodded in acknowledgement to the old man but continued to look at me, waiting for my answer.

  “No. They look rather sad and lonely to me.”

  “Just so Claren. Just so.” He squeezed my arm and led me into the house.

  As you entered the house the huge curved staircase demanded your attention. There seemed to be a large living room to the right with a fireplace that you could roast an elephant in, if you so chose to. Straight ahead of the front door there were several large, thick wooden doors. I could barely cast a glance around to the left side of the house before Mr. Lowood was pulling me up the stairs with the servant following. Naza, as was her custom, bounded ahead of us and reached the second floor. She turned back and looked at us “slowpokes” wagging her tail.

  “She does seem to have mended beautifully under that splint.” Mr. Lowood said as we reached the top of the staircase. I knew that I would remove the splint soon. Perhaps I could take her to a real animal doctor when I become settled. My employer led me down the hall to the right where there were two sets of arched wood doors that stood opposite of each other. He pushed open one set of doors and led me into the room.

  The room was large with a beautiful, dark king size canopy bed, a writing desk, fireplace and dressing room off to the side.

  “Well here it is. Thomas,” he said addressing the servant that had followed us up, “set her bags down there please.” Mr. Lowood pointed to the floor near the fireplace. The servant, who was an older man with sparse white hair growing out in all directions from his head and ears, grunted in reply. His face old and full of crags, wrinkled in to a smile that did nothing to soften the appearance of what seemed to be a milky white eye.

  “As you say Sir.”

  “After you bring my things up you may go home for the night. The steam carriage is waiting. Thank you.” Thomas set my two bags down and left the room.

  “Friendly fellow, but deaf as a donkey and blind in one eye. Keep that in mind or you might frighten him if you come upon him unexpectedly.” I thought that idea was amusing.

  “Me, frighten him?” I asked while removing my gloves. Mr. Lowood laughed heartily with his head thrown back and his eyes closed. For a full minute he gave in to mirth as I had never seen him do before. It surprised me to see him so relaxed around me, no, so unguarded.

  “Well said my girl!” he cleared his throat, now looking a little self conscience and continued, “Well, let me show you your new room.” He once again took me by my arm and walked me to the three large windows which faced the front lawn.

  “You have a nice view here, underneath your feet is the living room. I can’t say we really use it though, but you are more than welcome. Here is your writing desk full of anything you would need. Papers, pens etc.” He tapped the wooden writing desk. He then led me to the dressing room which had wooden bars for hanging dresses, and drawers that were built in to the walls. He flipped a switch and I saw a full vanity table and mirror that was inset into the wall as well.

  “Here is your vanity, I’m afraid you do need to flip the switch there because there is no natural lighting in here or your bathroom.” In my dressing room was another smaller arched door. He opened it to reveal a white bathroom equipped with a soaking tub and shower. I marveled at the shiny chrome fixtures and large mirror.

  “You will find this house is old, like me, but that is how I like things. Safe, comfortable, reliable. I am not one for change I am afraid. Maybe that is where my son gets it from.” He lowered his voice as he said the last part. He walked back to the door to my bedroom and took another look around the room.

  “So there you have it. I hope you find it suitable for now.”

  “It’s beautiful, yes, thank you, I love it.” He smiled, pleased, as we walked into the main part of the bedroom.

  “Of course you may customize it anyway you wish. Paint your room, add different curtains, or rather add curtains!” He said in a surprised voice as he looked at the windows. The fireplace was lit so all you could see out the window was our reflections standing in the middle of the bedroom.

  “They must have forgotten. They are getting up there in years I dare say. I do apologize. Your room was put together in a hurry. In fact all this furniture was purchased earlier this week. I suppose that is what accounts for the somewhat mismatched look to everything.”

  I glanced around the room to see what he was referring to. My own room in my childhood home was not as big.

  While the bed did look masculine and overpowering, the writing desk looked dainty and feminine. The vanity, which was white, was pretty and clearly belonged to a female. The rug under our feet spanned from the windows, to under the bed, to just short of the fireplace. The more I looked around the room, the more I fell in love with it. The fireplace, which looked to be made out of a slate gray stone covering, had a mantel with a good size shelf on top. I would have to decorate it with some sort of figurines or candles to keep it from looking so bare. All in all I had plenty of space to decorate and make this room my own.

  “I had hoped to bring you here in the spring, but seeing how you unexpectedly ran in to Kurten…” I must have made a face when he mentioned Kurten because he quickly patted my arm and changed the subject.

  “Well, no worries, just place your order with one of the servants and they will have some curtain samples brought around to you. Anything you need, if I am not here, just ring this bell.” He walked to the door to my new room where he pointed to a braided maroon colored cord.

  “This cord goes down to the kitchen. We have a handful of servants during the day but the three who are always here are Thomas, Esther and their grandson Timothy. They arrive at seven am each morning. The last one leaves at ten pm and all doors are locked. If you ever find yourself outside of the house after ten you may have to spend the night outside.” He smiled but seemed serious.

  “The walls to this house are very insulated so you really cannot hear if someone is outside, even if they ring the bell. I myself sleep very deep. During the day it is no problem since there are always servants roving about.” I nodded.

  He walked out into the hallway and pointed down to the far end of the hall.

  “Those set of doors go to my library and office. You can usually find me in there working. Please do knock before entering.” I nodded feeling somewhat embarrassed that he felt the need to tell me to knock.

  “My bedroom is on the third floor. The other rooms upstairs are mainly for storage. If you open that single door there,” he said pointing to a door just before his library door, “…it leads to another small staircase which leads to the tower room, where I understand they used to torture people.” He smiled at me.

  “Now we just have boxes of things we need to unpack, but haven’t all these years.” He sighed as if feeling tired.

  “Thank you. I’ll try to remember those things.” I said in a tired voice. Today had been very long and emotionally draining.

  “Good. Tomorrow I shall give you a proper tour of the house and gardens. Well, sleep well and oh, yes, these doors here,” he pointed to the doors that were right across the hall from mine, “these doors belong to my son. I would not go in there without permission.” I nodded as he bade me goodnight. I shut the door quietly after he left
, but did not lock it just yet. I didn’t want him to hear me lock it as soon as he left, but I did want to lock it. I was in a new place and was afraid I would fall in to a deep sleep.

  I unpacked my long white nightgown and hair brush and contemplated taking a bath. I was so tired but I never liked the feeling of going to bed without having a shower. I gave into my urge to wash off what I thought of as my travel grime and headed to the bathroom where I quickly showered. While the house was built to imitate many different old architectural styles and aesthetics, I found the bathroom to have some updates. Recessed panels opened and closed easily to store teeth cleaning gels, soft fluffy bath towels and the like. I quickly stripped off my clothes and put them in a compartment that I am sure went down to the laundry.