Edge Of Darkness (The 2nd Freak House Trilogy Book 3)

by C. J. Archer

  Wooden tube? That same tube, now tucked up my jacket against my side, began to feel heavy and large.

  "The tube contained a parchment scroll. The words were written in a script that was difficult to read, but it was English. I thought it was a poem at first, but by the end I began to wonder if I held something of a supernatural nature. Society members had written to me before, you see, requesting to inspect the ruins for what they called supernatural energy."

  "The society has been aware of the energy at the ruins for some time," Myer said. "Long before I joined. Lord Frakingham brought the parchment to us and Garrett immediately established a team to investigate. He didn't want to buy it unless we could prove that it was indeed from the book."

  "Buy it?" Bert asked.

  "I wanted to sell them the parchment," Frakingham said.

  Myer snorted. "For an exorbitant sum."

  "If it proved to be what you sought, it was worth a great amount indeed." To us, he said, "I needed money. A lot of money. This place was bleeding me. I inherited enormous debt and I saw this as a way of paying some, if not all of it, off. I was going to sell them the ruins too, but the society insisted the parchment be proven first. I hadn't agreed to an investigation before because I thought them all crackpots. After seeing that parchment and the words written on it, I no longer cared if they were all mad or not. I only saw the potential for financial gain." He sounded sickened by his own greed, having put that greed behind him now. Perhaps removing himself from the house and the burden that came with it had been the release he'd needed.

  "We all came here," Mrs. Gladstone said. "Lord and Lady Frakingham were present too as we followed the directions on the parchment and set out the stones just so. That's when your father took the daguerreotype," she said to Samuel. "Afterward, Mr. Myer spoke the words of the first spell aloud."

  "Were there three spells?" I asked, remembering what the ghost of the monk had told us. One spell to open the portal, another to close it, and a third to summon the warrior. I was curious about this warrior, but bided my time.

  Myer nodded. "After the last word was spoken, a great swirl of wind blasted through the ruins—and only the ruins. It was like some kind of tempest, but confined to that area. Then it was as if the air itself opened up."

  Mrs. Gladstone squeezed her eyes shut. "That creature came out of the whirlwind."

  "A demon," Myer went on. "As soon as I realized what had happened, I spoke the words of the second incantation to send it back and close the portal. Unfortunately, by the time I got the words out, it had attacked Garrett and Owens, the men standing nearest the portal."

  "It was horrible," Mrs. Gladstone said, a handkerchief to her nose and tears welling. "I'll never forget their screams."

  "So you had seen a demon before the one that killed Father," Samuel said to her. "Did you know any of this, Bert?"

  Bert shook his head. He seemed shocked by what he'd heard and had gone considerably paler. "This is news to me."

  "Your father and I left the society after that," she told her sons. "We wanted nothing more to do with the paranormal. Nothing." She bit her lip and lifted her gaze to Samuel's. "I suppose that's why we've been somewhat harsh on you. When your hypnotism first manifested, I was terrified. We couldn't control you. You controlled us. We didn't know what to do, and we despaired about your future. I still do."

  Samuel blinked back at his mother and I wondered if he was seeing her side for the first time. His face lost some of its hardness, his eyes too. "You don't need to worry anymore," he said quietly. "You can trust me, now."

  She pressed her handkerchief to her nose and nodded as tears streaked down her cheeks. "I didn't know for certain until yesterday that my presence here in sixty-seven had caused your hypnosis. I had wondered if it might be linked, but never discussed the possibility with your father. It was only when Lord Malborough's hypnotism came to light that I worked it out."

  "And you, Mr. Myer?" I asked. "Do you know why you can hypnotize?"

  He shifted his stance and leaned an arm against the back of Mrs. Gladstone's chair. "No, but I suspect something similar happened to my mother when she was carrying me. She was involved in the society too, and it was through my parents that I learned about the supernatural power of the ruins. There is no great mystery there, Miss Charity."

  "What happened after you sent the demon back?" I asked him. "Somebody must have buried the bodies."

  "I did," Frakingham said. "I sent everybody inside then dug a grave. Of course we had to put out a story and so we claimed they merely left. Unfortunately their valets were here. No gentleman absconds without his valet. The servants became worried, so we called in the police."

  "The police didn't find a freshly dug grave?" I asked.

  "I assisted Detective Inspector Nelson in searching the area down by the ruins," Frakingham said. "That's when I told him there'd been a terrible accident and that he must end the search quickly, and lose all evidence of the investigation. I had to pay him handsomely—more than I could afford—and he agreed. He never spoke a word."

  "Why didn't you tell him a wild dog had got them?" Sylvia asked. "That's what we do."

  "Nobody was thinking clearly. But most of all, we didn't want to draw attention to ourselves and what we'd done."

  "We were ashamed, sickened," Mrs. Gladstone said. "I wanted to forget all of it and go home. That's why I never asked Lord Frakingham what he'd done with the bodies. I simply didn't want to know."

  Myer nodded. "It was best that only one person knew their location. We agreed not to speak of it again and to stick with the original story, that Garrett and Owens had simply disappeared. Aside from an initial flurry, the curiosity died down and it seemed to be mostly forgotten. The problem is, the parchment was lost in the resulting chaos. It could be anywhere, now."

  "Hopefully destroyed," Frakingham said, eyeing Myer.

  I did not say a word, did not shift my position, lest someone suspect I had it hidden on my person.

  "I'm sorry we did not tell you everything," Mrs. Gladstone said to Samuel. "But we all agreed, and it was for your own good."

  "Our own good?" Samuel spluttered. "How do you reason that?"

  His mother dabbed at the corners of her eyes. "You might have wanted to see the portal for yourselves after hearing about it, or something equally horrid. The supernatural shouldn't be trifled with." She gave Myer a pointed glare. "It should be left alone. Nothing good comes from stirring it up."

  "That's one opinion," Myer muttered.

  "I don't want Douglas to learn about any of this," Frakingham said without meeting anyone's gaze. "He doesn't know the true reason behind my selling the estate. The fact is, I could have held onto it. The bank would have loaned me more money. But after sixty-seven, my conscience began to eat at me. I grew to hate this place, those ruins. I fought through the nightmares for years, but after Lady Frakingham passed away, I lost heart altogether. I had to make a choice. Either I walked into that lake and never came out again, or I got rid of the place altogether." His voice sounded raw by the time he finished, and I suspected it cost him a great deal of pride to tell us about his distressed state.

  I felt awful for my unkind thoughts toward him earlier. He wasn't a weak man, just a deeply troubled one. He ought to be applauded for soldiering on when all he wanted to do was end his life.

  "So if you could all kindly keep this conversation from Douglas, I would appreciate it," Frakingham added. "His hypnosis has made him dangerous."

  "No," Mrs. Gladstone said before I could. "You can't blame the hypnosis, when my son has the same ability. I think you'll agree they're nothing alike."

  Lord Frakingham flinched and looked away, his lips pressing into a flat line.

  "Malborough won't find out," Langley said. He'd been quiet the entire time, taking in everything we said. "You're right. Your son is not the sort of person who should be made aware of the power down there. Nor, I might add, are you, Mr. Myer."

  "I say." Myer stood
up straight. "I'm not as bad as that blackguard. I have a healthy curiosity, nothing more."

  "Healthy!" Sylvia barked out. "Hardly."

  "You were desperate to find that parchment and book," I reminded him. "You asked Garrett's spirit over and over again if he knew where it was located. Your intense interest didn't seem healthy then."

  "I was over-excited. I've been desperate to find it for years, and suddenly he mentioned the parchment. Or his spirit did. The possibility of finding it suddenly felt remarkably close."

  "We know what's written on the parchment, but what's in the book?"

  "Who knows? Nobody has seen it in hundreds of years. The story goes that the abbot hid it well before the king's soldiers came, after he tore out the page containing those three spells. But, as I said, nobody knows how true that is."

  "Do you think Garrett found it?" Samuel asked.

  "He has been haunting those ruins for years. Plenty of time to ferret around among the soil and find the parchment, or find clues to where the book is located. It's a highly important artifact," he said to Langley. "The information contained in its pages is said to be incredibly powerful. You might learn the secrets to all sorts of scientific mysteries from the book. You might be able to cure illnesses, or read minds, or fly to the moon. I say we continue looking for both it and the parchment, and decide together if its useful or not once we've found it. What do you say?"

  "We might continue to look," Langley said, "but you won't. I'm banning you from the ruins."

  "But—"

  "He told you no," Samuel snapped. "Good day, Mr. Myer. Kindly see yourself off the estate."

  "Or I will," Tommy said from the doorway where he'd been standing as still as a statue.

  Myer shook his head, disbelieving. "But—"

  "Go!" Samuel growled.

  Myer stormed out of the room. "This is madness," he shot back. "It's foolish to ignore such an important place."

  Tommy followed him out.

  Myer's departure breathed some life into the stifling drawing room. I relaxed back against the sofa and the tube dug into my side. It felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. It was good to finally learn about the missing men and Samuel's hypnosis. Even better to have Myer banished. His zealous pursuit of the paranormal made me feel uneasy.

  "A very wise decision to ban him," Mrs. Gladstone said, rising.

  "Agreed," Lord Frakingham said, also standing. "Now, if you don't mind, time is of the essence. I have only the rest of the day to look through the attic."

  "Just a moment," I said, pulling out the wooden tube.

  "The parchment!" Frakingham glanced over his shoulder at the door. "Myer doesn't know you have it?"

  I shook my head as I inspected the tube. It was a narrow branch from a bush or tree I didn't recognize, the surface worn smooth with time so that very little dirt clung to it. Thin leather strips secured cloths covering each of the tube's ends. I pried one off and tipped the tube. A scroll slid from the hollowed out center. It smelled musty but seemed in good condition. Everyone crowded around, gasping and oohing. All except Lord Frakingham.

  "Where did you get it? Bert asked.

  "It was buried with the bodies," I said. "Myer mustn't have seen it, and he didn't notice me take it."

  "He mustn't find out," Mrs. Gladstone said.

  "He won't," Samuel assured her. "We'll keep it safe."

  "Destroy it. That's what we should have done all those years ago."

  "But you didn't," Langley said. "Was it you who buried it with the bodies, Frakingham?" Lord Frakingham nodded. "Why?"

  "I don't know. Perhaps it was the archaeologist in me that couldn't destroy it. The thought of burning something so unique and old troubled me. But I didn't want it to be found and used either. Not in my lifetime. So I buried it with the men whose lives the first spell took. I told Myer that it must have been destroyed in the chaos."

  I silently read the small, elegant script, even though speaking it aloud probably wouldn't open the portal. Surely we were too far from the ruins for it to work. The words were in English, albeit an older form, rendering the writing was difficult to read.

  "We must destroy it this time," Mrs. Gladstone said with a determined pinch of her lips. "We can't afford for it to land in Myer's hands. Or anyone else's."

  "Wait." Samuel shook his head. "I'm not so sure. It could be important, one day, if something goes wrong. It doesn't only open the portal but closes it, too."

  "And summons a warrior," I added. "I agree. We must hide it again. Somewhere safe."

  "We'll see to it," Samuel said. "Or Sylvia should."

  "Why me?" she asked.

  "Because you'll remain here at Frakingham. You, Tommy, Langley, Jack and Hannah are the custodians of this parchment now. You must hide it and tell no one."

  I held out the scroll but she recoiled from it as if it were a snake. I gave it, and the tube, to Langley instead.

  "We'll keep it safe," he said, placing the scroll inside the tube and securing the cloth over the opening.

  Lord Frakingham gave Langley and the parchment a wide berth as he headed for the door. "And if the book from which it was torn ever shows up, you need to hide that, too. Now, excuse me, I have work to do."

  Once he, Mrs. Gladstone and Langley were all gone, Sylvia sighed and sprawled inelegantly in the deep sofa cushions. "Is it too early in the day for sherry? I could do with a strong drink."

  "It's just gone noon," I said with a laugh. It felt good to laugh after such a tense, exhausting time. I certainly needed it.

  Cara still sat quietly beside me, and Ebony soon joined us, but only to say goodbye. Her farewell was an awkward affair. She thanked Sylvia and everyone offered up polite smiles. Her gaze lingered a little longer on me than necessary, and I felt my face slowly flush. Why did she pay me so much attention?

  "I wish you well, Miss Charity," she finally said. "Whatever your future holds. I know you may not believe me, but it's the truth."

  "I'll be returning to the school," I said. "And thank you. I too hope you find what you're looking for."

  A small line connected her brows, but quickly vanished. She turned to Samuel. "I don't know what scientific experiments you've been working on here, but if it's something that will help cure you of your affliction, I pray that it works."

  "It's not a disease," I told her.

  The only reaction my outburst earned was a flinch from Ebony and a warm smile from Samuel. I doubted I had convinced her.

  Fray drove her and her lady's maid to the railway station in the village. I thought Mrs. Gladstone might try to stop her, but she didn't. She seemed to have come to terms with Samuel not marrying Ebony. Indeed, she spent much of the rest of the day with her sons. I overheard the three of them discussing management plans for their estate. I was pleased to note that Samuel got involved. He was, after all, his brother's heir, and that was unlikely to change. As much as nobody wanted to contemplate Bert's death, it would be soon according to his doctors. I could see it just from the look of him. The sallow skin, the frailty of his body, the increasing fatigue. He retired to his room to rest in the afternoon, but his absence did not stop Samuel from speaking with his mother.

  After lunch, I left them to their quiet conversation and sought out Sylvia and Cara. Cara had apparently also gone to her room to rest and I spotted Sylvia painting on the front lawn. Tommy walked toward her, carrying a tray with a tall glass upon it. I decided to leave them alone. They had things they ought to discuss.

  I spent much of the rest of the afternoon helping Lord Frakingham in the attic. He had protested that I would get dusty, but I assured him that I didn't care. "I need something to do," I said. "I'm much too restless to sit and read today."

  It was the truth. I couldn't settle to a quiet activity, and even a walk would leave my mind free to wander. There were so many things to think about. The strange events down at the abbey, Myer's reaction, and Malborough's cruel attempt at winning back the estate were foremost
. But that gave way to thoughts of the school and the children. I missed them dearly. Their little faces and smiles haunted me. I wanted to feel their small, thin arms surrounding my waist, hugging me tightly as if I were the only one they cared about. As if I were their mother. When I returned, I would be sure to hug them back just as hard, something I had not always been able to do. But I knew for certain it was what I wanted now—to show them love and accept their unconditional love in return.

  I was ready.

  ***

  I awoke that night to a sense of wrongness. The room was dark. Sylvia slept beside me, her steady breathing the only sound. Yet I knew someone was there. A shadow moved near the wall. I had locked the door, yet it stood slightly ajar. Perhaps the click of it unlocking had woken me.

  I reached for the pistol beside my bed. I kept it loaded now, after needing it several times in the past few weeks. "Samuel," I said quietly, "is that you?"

  Beside me, Sylvia stirred. "Charity?"

  To the shadowy figure, I said, "I have a gun and I will shoot."

  "Don't."

  I frowned. "Tommy?" I lowered the pistol. "What are you doing here?"

  The figure stepped closer and I could just make out his features. His face was blank, the eyes sightless as he approached the bed.

  Sylvia sat up and pulled the covers to her chin. "Tommy, get out at once! This is obscene. You cannot come in here!"

  He raised a hand and metal glinted in the thin strip of moonlight piercing through the gap in the curtains. "I have to kill you," he said. "Both of you."

  CHAPTER 14

  Sylvia screamed.

  Tommy's blade descended. I rolled on top of her and we both scrambled off the bed on the other side. Or rather, fell off. We lay sprawled on the floor, arms and legs tangled.

  Tommy came around the foot of the bed, knife still raised. His face remained impassive, yet his actions were all aggression as he rushed at us. Another one of Sylvia's screams deafened me, but I'd gathered my wits together.