by Trabex Books
~
September 2nd, 1885
London, England
Lilith hated riding in hansoms. The violent, jolting movement and the stuffy interior nauseated her and struck her with harsh, crippling migraines. She peered out the window at the rocking city as it banged by and fought back the urge to gag. She wanted air; sweet, clear, life-giving air. The ride across London would be relatively short but already she longed for it to end with every fiber of her being. The city was a cesspit. Every corner held memories. They crowded around like ghosts as she passed, begging to be relived. Biting back a whimper of pain she closed her eyes against the light and buried her face in her gloved hands. The unsteady sway of the cab taunted her knotted stomach and she forced her mind away from the discomfort. Instead she chose to focus on other matters.
The entire past month had been a great watery blur. It began with the selling of the house she had spent her life in, growing up with her parents and her sister. Her sister Arlene was getting married to a man named Henry Percival. Henry had his own estate just a few miles outside the city. The house had been willed to Arlene and it would be senseless to keep both places. The Dantes’ home had once been quite grand but had fallen into ruin with most of the house closed off and only one servant. The death of both their parents had been a harsh blow for the sisters. Lilith suspected that Arlene had hidden most of the debt from her for fear of worrying her sickly sibling. Arlene’s engagement to Henry had come as no surprise at all to Lilith who had witnessed the pair court for close to a year. What had shocked her was Arlene’s abrupt announcement that Lilith would not be accompanying them to the Percival estate. Instead she would be sent to live with her estranged uncle of whom she knew absolutely nothing about. A few years ago she might have thrown a fit about it. However times had changed. She was far too tired for any sort of exertion, physical or emotional.
Anxious and distraught, Arlene had pleaded with her. “It’s for the best, Lily, I promise! He can help you!” Lilith didn’t agree.
It was with a stony face that she hugged her sister goodbye that morning. She watched the driver and Henry load her bags onto the luggage rack and climbed into the hansom. She never even looked back. Now she sat curled inside the bouncing cab and prayed that the ride would soon come to an end. The urge to vomit was becoming almost too much. How many hours had passed? It might have been days for all she knew.
“FLAMEL MANOR!” The driver bawled over the clop of his horses’ hooves. Lilith opened one eye a mere sliver and used it to peek warily out the window. Fog. At first all that was to be seen was a thick smear of white fog of the sort that London’s notorious weather reputation was based. It was what her father would commonly call a ‘pea-souper.’ She watched it swirl around the wheels of the hansom as it whisked through a pair of tall, iron-wrought gates only to come to a rolling stop.
“We’re here, Miss Dantes.” The driver announced as he hitched up the horses and leaped down from his perch. He had surprising agility for a man of his stocky build. Through the miasma Lilith could see the impressive outline of a vast mansion that loomed above them. It was massive. A pair of tall Gothic towers reached for the clouded sky, so tall they almost vanished into the fog. Along the edge of the roof sat a row of sentinel stone gargoyles all wearing hideous fanged smiles. Ivy covered almost every inch of the walls. A chill ran through her as she stepped out of the hansom.
What kind of person lives in this place?
“Where is everybody?” Lilith inquired, glancing through the creeping tendrils of mist towards the manor.
“I dunno, miss.” The driver began unloading her bags and setting them on the ground of the stone courtyard. “I’ll go knock, shall I?”
“That won’t be necessary.”
The unexpected voice startled both Lilith and the cabby. A ghostlike woman materialized from the mist causing Lilith to nearly leap out of her skin. She was a tall, skeletal lady with a sharp, severe mouth and two beady black eyes. Her silver hair was drawn up in a very tight bun on top of her head. She knit her brows together until they almost met in the middle. She was dressed from head to toe in all black, with the fabric starched crisp as paper, allowing for no graceful movement. Lilith quite thought that she looked like an enormous crow.
“Have you been paid?” she barked at the driver who gave a nervous start and yanked off his hat in a gesture of fearful respect.
“Yes ‘m, I have. By Mrs. Percival I have.” He stooped his head to the hatchet-faced woman as she fixed him with her shrewd gaze.
“Then you may go. Miss Dantes can follow me inside.”
The driver performed a series of jerking backwards bows before scrambling back atop his cab and whipping the horses into action. He looked quite grateful to get away from this peculiar scene. Lilith almost wished she could go with him.
“So you’re Miss Dantes are you?” Confronted by the woman’s shrewd, prodding gaze Lilith felt an automatic dislike for her.
“Yes.” She said stiffly, refusing to be intimidated.
“Humph. Come inside. Supper’s almost done and you won’t want to miss it. I’ve got your things.” Despite her advanced age, she snatched up Lilith’s bags herself and turned to regard the girl as a sparrow might regard a lazy chick.
“Well? What are you waiting for?”
“I’m sorry,” Lilith gathered up her skirts and hurried after her. “I’m coming.”
“My name is Matilda Vines. You may call me Ms. Vines. I am the head housekeeper here at Flamel Manor. I have kept my position for almost twenty years.” She spoke with a quick monotone as she marched through the foyer. Lilith could tell the moment she stepped inside what a magnificent house it was. The floor was pure marble tile trimmed with crimson detail. Enormous white busts of what she could only assume were famous monarchs stood at either side of the entrance as if to appraise each newcomer with ancient, wise eyes. A great staircase rose up before them and separated into two hallways at the top, each leading towards opposite sides of the manor. The entire room was lit by the gargantuan windows that reached from floor to ceiling and flanked each end of the room.
Mrs. Vines halted at the foot of the steps and set down Lilith’s bags in a uniform line going from tallest to smallest. The way she moved reminded Lilith of a wooden automaton she had witnessed at a fair once when she was very small. She also noted that the housekeeper very rarely made direct eye contact with anyone; instead she would tilt her head to the side ever so slightly and look just past whomever she was addressing.
Very suspicious, she thought.
“That hallway leads to the manor’s west wing,” she jutted her chin at the left half of the staircase. “That is for the Alchemist’s private use. You are never to go there unless instructed. It’s not what it used to be, but I’m sure you’ll settle in here very quickly. It’s always an adjustment, leaving your family.” Mrs. Vines said. Was she dreaming or did Lilith detect a prick of sympathy in her voice. “Welcome to your new home.”
