“A dress?” Jakob asked quizzically.
“Yeah. I’m looking for the owner. Oh, and…” He turned back to the carriage and urged Elissa outward, offering his hand to help her down. “May I present, uh, well…‘Lady A’, I guess.”
“You guess?” the woman asked.
“If you can get more of a name out of her, you’re doing better than me. You don’t already know her by any luck, do you? Didn’t think so. Anyway, milady,” he said, smiling to Elissa and gesturing toward the couple, “Duke Jakob and his charming wife, Farada.”
“Wild, wild guess,” Jakob laughed, “but there’s a story to tell here, isn’t there? Come on, you two,” he beckoned them onward toward the main entrance. “Any mysterious friend of Toby’s is a mysterious friend of mine. I can’t wait to hear what trouble you’ve invited into your life this time.”
Elissa leaned back to let Bookend hop out of the carriage and into her arms before following the others inside.
A crack of thunder directly overhead rattled the windows of the mansion as the accompanying lightning cut through the deepening dusk. Even before the echoes had stopped bouncing around the valley, a powerful gust of wind snatched the doors to the garden balcony right out of the hands of the serving girl who’d been trying to struggle through them, and slammed them wide open with a bang. Silver service went scattering everywhere as the girl fought back the draperies suddenly tangling themselves about her.
In the midst of the confusion, a dozen half-drenched ladies and lords took advantage of the open door to come rushing inside, amidst much laughter and shrieking, as a torrential rain commenced to pounding at the windows.
“Lights! More lights!” Farada called to the staff, while Tobias paused to help untangle the serving girl, and a couple of the other lords forced the balcony doors shut.
“So much for dinner on the balcony.” Jakob chuckled. “At least the heat’s quite broken.”
“Along with any chance we’ll be meeting the more mysterious of your mystery women tonight, Tobias,” one of the younger ladies said with a laugh. “I think it’s safe to say no one will be coming late to dinner through this.”
“Never underestimate what I’m crazy enough to do,” Keely admonished the woman from where she stood in an interior doorway of the chamber. “I hope you don’t mind my taking the liberty of reclaiming my dress,” she said with a smile to Tobias and a happy little twirl into the room. The highlights of her flaring, shimmering skirts caught the light of the few candles that had already been lit against the approaching night.
“I’m afraid all I’d found to wear in the interim has been less than flattering.” Even in the dim light, Keely could easily see Elissa melting with the relief that the crowd had just acquired a new focal point for its curiosity.
“You made it!” Tobias rushed across the room to sweep Keely up in his arms in a much more vigorous twirl than the one she’d initiated herself.
“Of course I did.” Keely laughed. “So where’s the marque…I mean—” she coughed. “Where’s ‘Lady A’?” She peered into the gloom as if she’d not yet seen Elissa.
“No no no no,” Tobias demanded. “I’ve been fighting…the marquesa, here…to drop this whole cloak and dagger thing ever since she showed up. You already got through one entire evening without telling me your name, and you’re not getting away with it again.”
“Tobias is too right,” Farada insisted. “We’ve been teased for hours with glimpses of a story, and hospitality demands you fill us in at once on all the juicy details.”
“If only it was that simple.” Keely sighed.
“Make it that simple,” Tobias said.
“Give us a minute.” Keely beckoned to Elissa, drawing her away into a corner where they whispered together for something closer to two or three minutes than just the one.
“I for one haven’t had any dinner yet,” Keely said when they broke the huddle. “Feed me, and we’ll find a story for you.”
The rain had settled into a steady downpour that beat against the roof, the thunder and lightning outside now offering only occasional punctuation to the evening’s atmosphere. The chandeliers flickering over the dining table reflected endlessly back and forth between the long mirrors on either side of the chamber, amplifying the light, though it never quite seemed to banish the deep shadows from the corners of the room.
“Please understand,” Keely said, when the last of the dishes had been cleared away and the last servants had been dismissed to go pretend they weren’t listening at the keyholes, “whatever game it seems we’re playing at, it’s a dangerous game, and very high stakes.” She spoke quietly, drawing her audience into a conspiratorial ring as they leaned forward onto the edges of their own seats, straining to hear her above the storm. “Witches, heresy, empire, forgotten secrets, corruption, the Inquisition…We may seem like a puzzle to you, but there are puzzles within puzzles within puzzles going on here. We’ve barely begun peeling them away ourselves, and already we’ve made some very powerful enemies. Over-sharing could not only put us in danger, but you as well. I’ll try tonight to walk the knife’s edge and satisfy your curiosity without saying too much, but I’d encourage anyone with enough prudence to outweigh her curiosity to retire for the evening and leave the rest of us to our folly.”
No one budged from the table.
“I’ll admit, as someone here has guessed, that we’ve come a long way to be here. A very long way, in fact. It’s a testimony to our tutors growing up that we’ve been able to hide it so well, but no disguise is ever perfect, is it? I guess we do owe you names, be they real or imaginary, so will ‘Chloe’ suit me?”
“Well enough for now,” Tobias said.
“And…‘Alice’?” Keely looked meaningfully down the table to Elissa. When no one objected, she went on. “In any event, our home lies near the edge of Serinian lands, where enlightenment too often goes dark, and witchcraft can too easily become a very pressing problem. It pains me to admit the witch we’ve been chasing is one of my own cousins, though I expect that’s the only reason I’m sitting with you now instead of scuttling around Serylia’s sewers as a rat. She showed enough pity to turn me into a cat instead, and then only for a day or so. Not enough pity to transform my dress with me, mind you, which is how it came to be lying where you found it. It was quite the mortifying scene, I assure you, when my curse suddenly expired and I returned to my old self without warning.”
A ripple of poorly stifled laughter went around the table, along with the telltale expressions of listeners trying to imagine exactly how that must have played out.
“That same connection is why I’ve been trying to keep this a family matter, though I fear it may be spreading out of control beyond that. We may soon have no choice but to accept the shame and the scrutiny of the Inquisition. She’s on the trail of the Grimm Truth—close enough to convince me that it does indeed exist—and I’m fairly certain her plan is to bewitch the new emperor before he’s even crowned, assuring her place as empress.”
“That sounds a rather ill-conceived plan,” one of the older men scoffed. “Not one man with any real support for the position is in need of a wife.”
“Then I pity the queen standing between her and an empire,” Keely responded coolly. “I doubt she’ll wind up even so fortunate as the Countess of Elia.”
“Elia?” the man asked. “Where’s Elia?”
“Out west,” Keely said with a dismissive wave that was more sort of south-ish. “Such a dreadful business.”
“What’s so dreadful about being out west?” the man’s wife asked curiously.
“I mean, dreadful what happened to the countess,” Keely answered with a shiver. “Hadn’t you heard?”
“I hadn’t heard of Elia ‘til just now,” the woman said.
“Well, for the sake of their digestion,” Keely said, slipping out of her seat and around the table to the noblewoman, “I’ll spare the others the re-telling, but…” As Keely whispered behind a cupped hand,
the woman’s eyes grew progressively wider and her mouth gaped open.
“Oh, my go’ss!” she gasped. “You can’t be serious?!”
“Actually, I hadn’t…” Tobias began.
“Oh, I hadn’t believed it, either,” Keely interjected. “I mean, I hadn’t seen what the witch could do. Then I didn’t want to believe she would do it, especially with some of the same blood in my veins. But it was all too real at the county court. I’m sure they’ll still be telling the tale around the fire as a ghost story generations from now.”
“It all sounds like rubbish to me,” one of the younger women said, the irritation clear in her voice. With her pretty face, her long, brown hair carefully coiffed, and her rose-pink gown expertly tailored to accentuate a figure in little need of accentuating, there could be little doubt this was a woman unaccustomed to being upstaged at social gatherings.
“Then don’t believe it,” Keely said, easing on around the table to pat the woman familiarly on the shoulder. “I’m not trying to convince anyone of anything. I was asked to explain myself, and I am. Then, I’m going to go to bed, where I hope to indulge in one very deep sleep, completely un-plagued by questions of whether a hasty accounting of my life sounded plausible.
“I love that dress, by the way. I must meet your seamstress,” Keely added before moving on.
“You said something about ‘forgotten secrets’?” the lady of the house asked. “You mean the ‘Grimm Truth’?”
“That’s certainly the most sensational of them. I know it’s fashionable to dismiss the thing as a nursery story, but if you can believe the man’s own journals, it was apparently seen within the last couple of centuries by none other than the protector general of the church…just before he mysteriously died.”
“Seriously?” The rakish young lord beside the woman in pink asked, sitting up a little straighter. “You’ve seen the journals?”
“I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” Keely sighed. “We’re getting into ‘can get you killed’ territory here. But, yes, I have. And, no, it doesn’t bother me if you don’t believe that either. In fact, even if you do believe it, pretending that you don’t might save your life someday, so knock yourself out. I’m used to it, anyway.” She waved her hand with the weary, dismissive air of someone who was not so much “used to it” as “resigned to it”.
“I’ve seen it to,” Tobias spoke up sternly, and Keely flashed him a small smile of gratitude for taking the bait. “Whether or not the Grimm Truth is real, that journal is. And you can either believe in this witch, or you can believe Lady Chloe stood on my front steps during a very busy party, stripped herself naked where anyone might have seen, and left this exquisite gown she’s wearing lying in the dirt—all so she could come here and be ridiculed tonight. You tell me which makes more sense.”
“Whoa, there!” Jakob spoke up placatingly. “No one’s ridiculing anyone. Well, maybe Sabina got a little snarky, but when does she not?” The woman in pink shot Jakob a withering look. “And like the lady herself says, when a story gets this fantastic, you don’t just go around expecting everyone to accept it without blinking.”
“Well, our family’s had its brush with witches,” one of the previously silent lords spoke up—a man with the sort of neatly groomed, dark beard that looks a bit sinister by candlelight. “There’s no other explanation for Uncle Henri. Like Toby, I’m a lot more willing to believe in the witch than, ummm…” He chuckled quietly.
“Whatever else is true, our Lady Chloe is a very intriguing young woman.” A strikingly beautiful, middle-aged woman who had been hanging back from the table—watching the conversation from the edge of the candlelight—stepped forward with an amused little smile. “I’m bored with hearing about witches, though. Talk to me about books.”
Keely was happy to note she hadn’t been the only one startled by the woman’s sudden entry into the conversation. She’d been hanging back so quietly, Keely had walked right past her while circling the table and barely noticed she was there—even though she wore a gown the same shade of look-at-me red that Keely loved so much. Indeed, most of the gathering seemed to have forgotten the woman was there at all, judging by the way they’d jumped at her voice. It all helped to cover up the fact that Keely had missed a beat in sizing up the woman, though.
“Books?” Keely asked, just to direct the spotlight back off herself while she re-settled her composure.
“These journals,” the woman said, twirling a lock of her long, red hair in her fingers as she stepped up between Jakob and Tobias at the head of the table. “This…‘Grim Tooth’…Witches can be wicked, wicked nasty, but books…In my experience, books are just downright evil.” When Tobias gave a little laugh at this pronouncement, she reached to tilt his chin up with one finger while she leaned in close to his face and repeated very clearly and seriously. “Evil.” She kissed his nose, sending a quiet ripple of laughter through the gathering, then straightened up and paced on around the table until she was facing Keely from across it.
“So if I’m following this, we’ve got one naughty little book telling us…what? That an even naughtier little book is on the loose somewhere, rampaging about the countryside?”
“I suppose you could put it that way,” Keely answered guardedly.
“Is that first book helpful at all in saying where to find the second?”
“A bit,” Keely said. “But that was over a hundred years ago.”
“Then where was the second book?” the woman enunciated carefully.
“I, uh…Wolf’s Tooth.” Keely hadn’t met many people capable of staring her down, but this appeared to be one of them. “Somewhere around there.”
“What? That great big spike of rock over by the forest? I thought it would be in someplace exotic—like Trelgathra, or the Dead Mountains, or Little-Ox-Trough-on-Eastbrook. Any artifact so important as all that should develop some sense of style, don’t you think?”
“I’m sorry,” Keely said with a perplexed frown. “I don’t…”
“Wait!” the woman interrupted her, hand raised for silence.
“What?” Keely asked with irritation as the silence dragged into seconds.
“Oh.” The woman glanced around apologetically. “Isn’t that where I was supposed to interrupt you? No matter. Is that all you can tell me about the books?”
“Pretty much,” Keely said. “The witch is chasing the books. We’re just chasing the witch.”
“This witch?” the redhead asked, fishing in her bodice for a page that she neatly unfolded to display Keely’s wanted poster.
“Uh…yeah,” Keely nodded slowly. “That would be her.”
The woman cocked her head, looking from Keely to the poster and back again, making Keely fidget despite herself. “I can see the family resemblance. Your eyes are much prettier, though. All right. I was kind of looking for her anyway, so I’ll help you find her.”
“You will?! Uh…wow. That’s…great!” Keely pasted on a smile that she hoped looked more astounded than forced. “That would be just so great.”
“Tomorrow, though. Tonight’s no good for it.”
“Yeah,” Keely agreed slowly as another peal of thunder broke close outside. “I think you’re right.”
The woman smiled winsomely, then turned away and headed for the door, where she nearly knocked over one of the household servants in opening it. “Fetch me my cloak, dear,” she told the girl.
“Where are you going?” Farada asked, perplexed.
“Out, silly.” The woman gave a cordial little wave as she pulled the door shut after her.
“I’m really not sure, my dear,” Jakob said, still staring at the closed door, “whether it’s you or Toby who keeps the, er…more unique friends.”
“Me?” Farada’s confused expression deepened. “You’re the one who invited her.”
Jakob chuckled and shook his head. “So which of you did she come with, and who is she?”
All the guests just looked about the table expectantly a
t each other for several seconds before Jakob pushed away from the table and followed the woman out the door. A low buzz of whispered conversation overtook the gathering until he returned, dripping wet.
“I, uh…followed her to the gate,” Jakob answered the stares. “That is, I followed her out the door. The porter says he hasn’t seen anyone like her all day, wanting in or out the gate. Which of you even talked to her before just now?” he asked impatiently. “Did anyone see her before just now?”
CHAPTER TEN
Without a Trace
Elissa lay awake, staring into the darkness—where she knew the bed canopy should be—long after the flickering lightning outside had stopped offering any chance to actually see anything. Soft and cozy as the bed she lay in was, she simply couldn’t relax and get the anxious voices in her head to shut off, so she nearly jumped at the whisper of the bed curtain drawing aside.
“Storms over,” Keely hissed in her ear. “C’mon, Jenny.”
“Seriously? All those hours spying on me as a cat, and you can’t even get my name straight? C’mon where?” Elissa whispered. She sat up and perched on the edge of the bed to stare at the darkness from a different angle. At least there was enough light filtering into the room to make out Keely’s silhouette. “You’re naked again, aren’t you?” Elissa asked dryly.
“Of course,” Keely hissed. “Now hush, and get your chemise off.”
“My…?” Elissa gaped. “Oh, no. Naked is your thing, remember?”
“Then give my regards to Jane Carver, because those are our choices. I’m going to slip out that door and count to fifty, then I’m gone. I’m taking nothing with me, and neither are you, or you can figure this mess out on your own.”
“But…” Before Elissa’s mind could formulate a coherent question, the shadowy figure at her bedside had withdrawn to the door and slipped through it without making another sound.
Lethal Red Riding Hood (Dark Goddess Chronicles Book 1) Page 11
