“I know, isn’t it marvelous?” She flashed a wide smile.
Was the woman nuts, or was this some kind of a joke? Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t think it’s the slightest bit marvelous,” she shot back, not bothering to hide the resentment in her voice. “In fact, I’d say it pretty much sucks! I can’t remember anything about myself. Ever since the accident, my life has been a big blank.” Elle could feel her cheeks glowing hot.
“A” waved the outburst away with the flick of her hand and a kindly smile. “Oh, I suppose that part has been a nuisance, but now you get to start fresh.”
Elle was trying to decide whether to laugh or tell her off when the woman took her by the arm. “Come, let’s go to the study. I’ve made us some salted caramel hot chocolate.” She gave her a knowing look. “Your favorite, although you don’t remember, and I made some special white chocolate and milk chocolate truffles just for you.”
They went up the winding staircase to the second story and down a long hall before stopping in front of a heavy wooden door. The woman opened it and motioned for Elle to enter. From the moment she stepped in, she had the peculiar sensation of stepping into another world. Thick woolen rugs covered polished hardwood floors. Tall bookcases towered to the arched ceiling that was open with massive exposed beams. There must have been thousands of books and figurines lining the shelves. A sliding wooden ladder was attached to the bookshelves to allow one to reach the uppermost books. She forgot her earlier frustration. “Wow! This is incredible,” she murmured.
The woman seemed pleased.
She walked over to a bookshelf and began reading the titles. Sleeping Beauty, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Rapunzel. She turned. “These are all fairytales.” She looked across the room to a round table that had a model of a house resting in the center of it. From where she was standing it looked to be a replica of a gingerbread house with two figurines in front of it—a boy and a girl. She pointed. “Hansel and Gretel?”
The woman nodded. “Let’s go over and sit by the fire.” They walked over to the vacant fireplace that looked as though it hadn’t had a fire in quite some time. Was the woman planning on making a fire? There was no wood in the fireplace. “Have a seat.” The woman pointed at the green velvet wingback chair that was facing the fireplace. Elle sat down, and the woman took her seat in the matching chair. Directly in front of them, between the chairs and the fireplace, was a large ottoman covered in a detailed tapestry. The rich greens and reds suggested that it might’ve been a forest scene, but Elle couldn’t tell for sure. Resting on the ottoman was a silver tray containing two mugs of hot chocolate piled high with whipped cream. Beside the hot chocolate was a china plate decorated with delicate pink flowers and green leaves. There were two truffles in the center of it—one white and one milk chocolate. Her eyes went to the wood mantel. She marveled at the detailed carvings. Some looked to be of fruits and vegetables, others might’ve been faces, but the wood carver had deliberately left the lines so vague that it was hard to tell for sure what the shapes were.
Elle looked back at the woman and was startled to see that while she’d been studying the décor, the woman had been studying her. She twisted in her seat. The woman’s open scrutiny was making her uncomfortable. “You’re ‘A,’” she blurted.
She looked surprised. “A?” She reached and turned on the antique glass floor lamp that was beside of the chair. It cast a warm glow over the room.
“Your letter was signed ‘A.’”
“Oh, I suppose I did sign it that way. I was trying to be discreet,” she chuckled, and her emerald eyes twinkled with amusement, “so that Sera wouldn’t know the note had come from me.”
“She tore it up without even opening it. I happened to come into the kitchen and see her, so I fished it out of the garbage.”
The woman’s face flushed. “There’s not a smidgen of honor in that wretched woman’s body. Imagine someone having the nerve to throw away my chocolate.”
Elle couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up in her throat. She was starting to like ‘A’ more and more. She’d lost count of the amount of times she’d thought nearly the same thing over the past couple of weeks. There was something cathartic about hearing someone else say it. “She is wretched, isn’t she?”
The woman laughed. “My name is Adele.”
Adele. The name fit her. “Do you mind if I ask how we know each other?”
Adele reached for a mug of hot chocolate. “I’m your aunt.”
“What?” Elle leaned forward in her seat. “My aunt? No one told me that I have an aunt.”
She took a sip of hot chocolate. “To hear him tell it, I’m his older sister. Or at least that’s how the story goes.” She rolled her eyes and looked upward. “Sister? To that soft piece of fruit? Hah! You’d think that Merek could’ve come up with a better cover than that.”
Elle shook her head. “I don’t know why they didn’t tell me about you. And why was Sera throwing away your invitation?”
“So many questions.” She cocked her head as if she were musing something over in her mind. “Let’s see, where to begin … where to begin. Shall I begin with the book? Is that a good idea?” She looked to the ceiling. “I’m not sure she’s ready.”
“What book? What am I ready … or not ready for?” she asked, but Adele kept talking to herself, as though she’d not heard a word Elle had said.
“Of course, if I give her a truffle …” She took another drink from the mug and held up a finger. “Yes, a truffle might do the trick, but it will only work if she’s ready. Of course, once things are set into motion, there’s no going back.” She set the mug on the tray and began drumming her fingers on the arms of the chair. “Is she ready?” She looked directly at Elle as if she were sizing her up. “Oh, dear. How did I get myself mixed up in this?” She glared at the ceiling. “How indeed, Merek!”
Elle’s heart dropped. Adele was crazy. That’s why Sera had thrown away the invitation. That’s why no one mentioned her. Disappointment settled over her. How nice it would’ve been to have an aunt that, unlike Sera, was kind. And for all her eccentricity, she could tell that Adele was that.
“Go ahead,” Adele prompted. “Drink some of your hot chocolate. I made it especially for you.”
It took Elle a moment to realize that Adele was talking to her rather than to herself. She reached for the mug and took a drink. To say that it was delicious would’ve been a gross understatement. It was amazing! And it was hot! Something wasn’t adding up. The mugs were sitting on the ottoman. From the looks of things, they’d been sitting on the ottoman the entire time that Adele had come out to greet her. “This is hot.”
Adele nodded. “Just the way you like it.”
Yes, she did like it hot, although she hadn’t known that about herself until this very moment. “But how? We talked downstairs and then by the bookshelves. How did you keep it hot?” She lifted up the cup to see the bottom, thinking perhaps it was battery operated, but it was a plain cup.
“This is all still a bit of a shock for you, but it will all become clear soon … well, at least a portion of it will be.” She looked directly at Elle. “I’m sorry I had to take away your memories. There was no other way, you see. You were going down the wrong path. And you were turning out …” She started chewing on her lower lip. “Well, you were starting to develop a bit of a mean streak. Of course that’s understandable considering you’ve been living with that horrible woman and her wretched daughter all of these years. Still, something had to be done.”
Elle arched an eyebrow, her senses going on full alert. “Wait a minute, you’re saying that you took away my memories?”
“I want you to understand that it wasn’t out of meanness, dear. I did it because I care about your future.”
A furrow appeared between Elle’s brows. This was ridiculous! Why was Adele saying such crazy things? “I fell. It was an accident. You didn’t cause it, it was a stupid accident,” she finished, growing more frustrated by the mi
nute.
She patted Elle’s hand. “Of course it was, dear.” Adele put down her cup and hugged her arms. “It’s drafty in here. We need a nice warm fire to warm the bones. When you get my age, the blood doesn’t circulate so well … and then the joints tend to ache a bit, especially just before a storm. There’s a storm brewing!” She shivered. “The sooner we get on with this the better.”
Okay, she was old and more than a little crazy, but there was something endearing about her, and the hot chocolate was outstanding. It was spreading warmth through her that started at her toes and was working its way up.
Adele made a motion with her hands and then thrust them at the fire. A loud whoosh went through the room and suddenly there was a crackling fire where the empty space had been. Elle jumped and in the motion, spilled hot chocolate on her jeans. Even though it was hot, she barely noticed. She jumped up, fear drumming in her breast. “There’s a fire!”
“Yes, I thought it might help take the edge off, dear.”
“But there was nothing there, and then you waved your hands in the air and then … um … I’m not sure what just happened.” She swallowed, her mind refusing to accept what her eyes had witnessed. A cold sweat covered her. She was going crazy. First the mirror and now this. She was going crazy like Adele! A silent scream was building in her throat. She put down the mug. “I have to go.”
“No, don’t go. We need to talk.”
Elle rushed past her, practically running. “I have to go!”
“Oh, puddle wax!” Adele muttered, wringing her hands. “What to do?”
Elle was almost to the door when it slammed shut. She frantically turned the knob, but it wouldn’t budge. Left with no other option, she turned and faced Adele, her back plastered against the closed door. “P-please … let me go.”
“I’m not going to hurt you, Elle,” Adele said gently. “Come back over and sit down, and I’ll explain everything.”
“I don’t know.” She started shaking her head back and forth.
Adele held out her arms. “Come.”
She had no choice. Her feet started moving, and there was nothing she could do but comply. It was as though some unseen force was pulling her in. She sat down in the chair, her heart pounding. “Okay, say what you want to say!” She couldn’t stop the tear from rolling down her cheek.
Adele sat down and reached for the silver tray. She held it out to Elle. “Here, I want you to eat the white truffle. It will help you understand.”
Her heart was pounding so hard that it was making her dizzy. “Is it poison?” she squeaked.
Adele laughed. “Heavens no, child. Eat it,” she urged.
Elle reached for the truffle. Tentatively, she lifted it to her mouth.
“Go ahead, eat.”
She took a bite. It was magnificent! Even better than the hot chocolate. It was smooth and rich. She ate the rest in two bites.
“It’s good, yes?” Adele peered at her over the spectacles.
“It’s the best I’ve ever eaten.” She eyed the remaining truffle. “Do you want me to eat the milk chocolate one too?”
Adele chuckled. “Not yet, there’s something I want to show you first.” She arose from her chair and walked over to an oil painting depicting a mother and daughter. They were wearing medieval clothing. The mother was resting on a red velvet settee. She had one hand on her daughter’s shoulder and the other on her flaxen hair, as if she were caressing it. The painting had an ornate gold frame that looked antique and very expensive. “One of my favorites. You may recognize it.”
Elle looked at it. It was hard to make out the details from across the room, but something about the curve of the mother’s neck was familiar. A part of her felt as though she should know something about the painting. It was right there on the edge of her consciousness, but for the life of her, she couldn’t grasp it.
“It’s a portrait of Cinderella and her mother,” Adele explained. “It was painted a few months before Cinderella’s mother died.”
“Are you talking about the fairytale Cinderella?”
“Uh huh.”
Strange how she’d instinctively known the painting was of a mother and daughter.
Adele carefully removed the painting, revealing a safe with a combination lock. She opened it and retrieved an old book with leather binding. She walked back to where Elle was sitting and took her seat. She held the book out for Elle to see, all the while rubbing her hand over the rough surface. “Hello, old friend,” she said reverently.
Elle looked closely at it. “It almost looks …” She stopped, not wanting to give voice to the thoughts swirling in her head.
“It almost looks what?” Adele prompted.
“Like a face,” Elle admitted.
Adele gave her a broad smile that was tinged with hope. “You’re starting to see,” she said, excitement making her voice go husky. “Elle, I want you to meet an old friend … a dear friend … Bree.” She tapped the book with the tip of her finger.
Elle’s eyes widened. “Bree? You act as though the book is alive.” She paused. “Is it?”
“Lives can take on many forms, Elle. This one happens to be in the form of a book.”
Okay … she was sorry she asked. “Why do you lock it in a safe? It’s not like it’s going to jump up and run off or something.”
Adele laughed. “Bree does have a stubborn streak, although I don’t think he would leave me, would you Bree?” Elle looked at the book. A part of her half-expected it to answer. Thankfully, it didn’t.
“There are those that would try and take Bree.” She looked over her shoulder and spoke in low tones. “Evil knows many faces. Beware of those you cannot trust. Those that would cause you harm.” She peered over her spectacles at Elle. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
A sense of foreboding lifted goose bumps on her arms, and she shivered involuntarily. “I think so,” Elle said slowly, even though she didn’t have a clue what Adele was talking about.
Adele waved a hand in the air. “You’ll understand soon enough, I suppose.” She positioned the book in her lap and leaned forward, eagerness shimmering in her eyes. “Are you ready?”
Elle nodded.
“Okay, here goes. Bree, what will you choose to show her? Bree will only show you that which you are ready to see,” Adele explained.
At a loss for words, Elle simply nodded.
She opened the first page, and a blast of cold air rushed though the room causing the fire to flicker. For an instant, Elle thought she heard a groan coming from the book.
“What was that?” Her eyes widened as she looked to Adele for an answer.
“Stop being dramatic, Bree.” Adele opened the book and turned to the first page. “Tell me what you see.”
Elle stared intently at the book. “I don’t see anything. It’s blank.”
The corners of Adele’s mouth turned down in a frown. “You don’t see anything?”
Elle shook her head.
“Bree, that’s enough!” she said sharply. “I tell you she’s ready. You need to trust me on this.” She turned to Elle. “I want you to close your eyes.”
“What?” The last thing she wanted to do was to close her eyes. At this point, she didn’t know what Adele had in mind, but it couldn’t be good.
“Trust me,” Adele said, a hint of exasperation coating her voice.
As if she had a choice. The door had slammed shut in her face and locked, and she’d walked back and sat down against her will. Who was she kidding? Adele was calling all of the shots. “Okay,” Elle huffed.
“I want you to relax. Focus on my voice. You will only focus on my voice. Nothing else. Clear your mind. Let all of the problems go. Let everything go. You are as light as a feather … floating. Think of the truffle and how it tasted in your mouth. Let it fill your senses.”
Elle was more relaxed … she was floating … there was a sunny field full of daisies, and she was running to something … someone …
�
��Open your eyes,” Adele instructed.
The room came into focus, and Elle was surprised that she’d been able to relax.
“Now look at the book,” Adele coaxed. “What do you see?” Her voice was calm—tranquil.
Elle looked at first the page. It was blank, but then something, a movement caught her eye.
“What do you see?”
“I see letters, a type of fancy script. It looks old.”
“And what do the letters say?”
Elle leaned forward and peered. “I can’t make them out. Wait a minute, I see pictures. Vivid, bright pictures.”
“Focus on the pictures,” Adele urged.
“I see a house. A big, beautiful stone house with lots of windows and a large wooden door. It looks like something out of a fairytale.” A feeling of nostalgia swept over her. The grass looked so green and inviting, and she could almost feel the sun on her face. “I see a road that runs up to the house,” Elle said excitedly. “There are horses!”
“Anything else?”
Elle stopped. “Yes, I see a girl. There’s a girl walking up the road, carrying …” She looked closer. “I believe she’s carrying two buckets full of red apples.”
“Go into the picture,” Adele urged. “Become one with it.”
“I see her face! She’s crying.”
“Why is she crying?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Why is she crying, Elle?”
“I don’t know!” Elle’s voice rose. Adele’s questions were becoming a nuisance. She was floating away from her—floating into the picture.
“Yes, you do, Elle. You know why she’s crying.”
A forgotten sorrow filled her breast, and suddenly she knew. “She’s crying because …” Her voice broke. “She’s crying because she misses her mother.”
“What is her name?” The voice was little more than a whisper in her mind. She focused instead on the way the warm breeze lifted the ends of her hair and tickled her nose. “The name. What is her name?” She was walking on the dusty road, the sour scent of apples pungent against the sweet smelling grass.
“Her name is Cinderella,” she breathed as she lost herself in the picture.
Banished: Book 1 of The Grimm Laws Page 6
