L01-03. Lantern

by Chess Desalls

  “The poor dear! How do we get her home?”

  After turning and taking a long look at the girl, Machin set the horn on the table next to the globe. “Please excuse us,” he said to Evelyn.

  Turning again, he locked arms with Gelsey and Graham, and pulled them along with him until they reached the furnace. When he spoke again, his voice was barely a whisper above the crackle of flame.

  “This situation is not only out of the ordinary, it is quite serious. Evelyn has explained to me that she was celebrating Halloween on the night she was pulled inside a lantern and transported here.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” breathed Gelsey. “Halloween isn’t for several more days.”

  “Yes, I know,” he said, frowning. “She keeps speaking of a bright blue light, and I’m not sure how to send her back. Not in her present form.”

  “Present form?” asked Graham.

  “Before I can do anything to help her, we must find a way to get her out of that lantern. Before her light burns out.”

  Graham’s face paled. “Burns out? What do you mean burns out? What kind of trade do you have goin’ here?”

  Machin gave him a look that froze him in place.

  “Have you lost your senses, Graham Webb? That is the second time you’ve spoken out against me today. The only instances since you’ve started the position. Are you unwell?”

  Graham shook cobwebs from his head. “I don’t know. I mean, I don’t think so. But I have this terrible feelin’ that somethin’ is wrong, somehow. Unfair, too.” He frowned. “Perhaps you’re right. Maybe I should rest.”

  Halfway toward the hatch to the underground rooms, Graham stopped and turned around.

  “Have I done somethin’ to cause this? To put Evelyn Bowman in danger?” he said.

  “This isn’t a question of blame. It’s a question of why.”

  As Graham let those words sink in, he found it difficult not to suspect that, maybe, Machin framed the question that way to cover up his own blame. He nodded anyway, respecting his master’s words, grateful Machin hadn’t said it was Graham’s own doing. Or, rather, Graham’s fault.

  Chapter 9

  Evelyn

  Evelyn worried something was wrong before she was fully aware of her surroundings. Waking up in Carla’s house had never felt right, but she’d known the comfort of her own pillow and blanket—their familiar warmth and scent.

  But her pillow was missing and she wasn’t covered in a blanket.

  She had on jeans and a puffy jacket instead of her pajamas—the same outfit she’d worn to the Halloween party by the lake. She cringed. Her skin and clothing shone blue.

  Seriously? This is the longest dream ever.

  She remembered blacking out the night before, after Machin had taken Graham and Gelsey into the adjoining room. There’d been a doorway with no door, but she couldn’t see past it. She was sure they’d been talking about her; but she hadn’t heard anything over the crackle of flame that drowned out secrets told in whispers.

  I wonder what they said.

  She pressed her hands to the glass and sniffed. The air smelled of apples and cinnamon, and the lingering smoke of a campfire.

  That’s odd, she thought. If Gelsey’s cooking, she’s being quiet about it. I wonder if Machin’s at the furnace, and if Graham already had his breakfast.

  She floated around the inside of the globe, carefully taking in all she could see along the walls. One wall had a door she expected led outside. The other two doorways in the room were arched, open spaces, one of which she gathered went to the kitchen where Graham had his meals, and another that led to the room with the furnace. The wall with the doorway leading to the kitchen also had shelves.

  The fourth wall had windows with shutters that were open. Evelyn tipped upward and pressed her nose to the glass. She couldn’t see much out the windows beyond branches and sunlight.

  She tilted her head back. The lanterns above glowed brighter, whiter than the light from the sun that streamed through the windows. They brightened and dimmed as if they were breathing.

  A soft padding of footsteps caused her to turn around.

  Evelyn smiled.

  Graham’s hands were raised, keeping himself balanced, as he lifted a leg and landed lightly on the ball of his foot.

  “Good morning, Evelyn,” he whispered.

  She waved.

  When he reached the table, he touched both hands to the globe. “I’ll be back to polish the lanterns.” More softly, he added, “I’d bring my breakfast here to have it with you, but I don’t think Machin would ’preciate food near his globes and tools.”

  She met his brown, smiling eyes with her own and nodded.

  He grinned.

  After he disappeared through the doorway to the kitchen, she paced back and forth, memorizing each wall inside the cottage. If this was a dream, one day she would wake, and Graham would be gone. She wanted to remember everything.

  She caught bits and pieces of Graham’s conversation with Gelsey. They spoke in low tones, but Evelyn heard her name more than once. Her heart thudded, or rather, her entire being of flame produced the sensation of beating, only stronger, when Graham said her name.

  I know they’re trying to figure out a way to get me out of here, but why aren’t they including me? Maybe I could help them find a solution.

  Evelyn startled when Graham walked through the doorway. She’d heard footsteps, but the smile on his face surprised her, and gave her hope.

  His red hair brushed the glass when he lowered his head to the globe.

  “Everythin’ all right in there?”

  “Yes,” she said with a nod. Then grinned.

  “Good. I’d like to talk more once I get some of my work done. That all right with you, Evelyn?”

  She smiled and nodded again, then watched as he picked up a polishing cloth from the shelf. She found it difficult not to stare at Graham as he stepped onto the stool and swiped the cloth along the glassy surfaces of the lanterns. I wonder how he got a job like that.

  He wore the same tunic and breeches as the day before. The glow of the lanterns shone through his rusty-colored hair, making it appear both softer and brighter.

  She cringed when he caught her staring. It happened more than once; each time she felt her cheeks grow hot. But there wasn’t much else for her to do. If he talked to her, it would be a one-sided conversation. He couldn’t hear her without the ram’s horn, and she didn’t want to distract him by trying to pantomime.

  Her thoughts drifted to the mimes at the lake. Evelyn frowned. Her joke about them being trapped inside imaginary ice cubes wasn’t funny anymore.

  She looked up, catching him looking at her another time, and blushed.

  “I’m ’bout ready for a break,” he said, stepping off the stool.

  He set down the cloth and picked up the horn before planting himself on the bench next to the table.

  The larger end of the horn clinked against the glass.

  “I couldn’t hear most of what you were tellin’ Machin last night, so I’m sorry if some of these are the same questions.”

  “It’s okay,” she said. Her flame flickered with that weird sensation of a thudding heartbeat when he smiled. “What would you like to know?”

  “Where was it you said you’re from?”

  “Erie. It’s a city by the Lake Erie, at the northwest corner of Pennsylvania. At least that’s where I last lived, with my cousin, Carla. She’s been taking care of me and my sister since my parents died. Until now…” She left out the part about how sudden the accident had been, and how her mother and father were airplane passengers. At least they were together, she thought.

  Graham frowned. “You must be missin’ your family.”

  “Yes, mostly my sister, Joyce, and the boys. My brothers didn’t come to Carla’s house with us. They’re only six, seven, and nine years old.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Joyce keeps better contact with their new foster p
arents than I do. They’re still in New Jersey, not far from where I grew up.”

  Graham’s nose wrinkled. Then, he sighed. “I miss my family, too. My father was a weaver before he got sick and passed away.”

  “Do you have sisters and brothers?”

  He shook his head.

  “So you’re all alone.”

  “I was, until now.”

  Evelyn blushed again, embarrassed she’d almost interpreted his words to mean he was no longer alone because of her. Obviously, he’s not alone because he stays with Machin and Gelsey.

  “Where will you go when your apprenticeship ends? Will Machin let you stay here?”

  Graham frowned. “I can’t say I had a plan for afterward. I just knew by word of mouth that good things happened to those who took the position. They did for my friend, Serah, anyway. Something doesn’t seem right, though. Things are backward, somehow.”

  “Backward?”

  “From what Serah told me, Machin gave her a gift. He gave a prior ’prentice, Jared, a gift, too. But they didn’t get those gifts, and had no reason to use them, until during their ’prenticeships, or afterward, depending on how you look at it.”

  “Haven’t you been given a gift?”

  “I have.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  He looked around to make sure Gelsey and Machin were out of hearing range. “Machin sent me my gift before I took the position.”

  Evelyn blinked. When she got no further explanation, she asked, “What’s so bad about that?”

  “Seems backward, that’s all.” He shrugged. “There’s more to it than that, but I’m sure I’ve already said enough that doesn’t make sense.”

  “Can I see it—the gift Machin gave you?”

  He pulled a metal contraption from his pocket. It had a brassy sheen and a metal piece that stuck out like a switch. Graham clicked it three times. A flame at the end of the torch glowed blue.

  Evelyn pinched her nose, but it did nothing to guard her from the stench. She waved her hand away. “Nice— What is it?”

  “A mechanical torch. We use these to see when it’s dark. It’s ’specially useful in the tunnel and rooms below the cottage.”

  “That sounds…practical,” she said, wondering why a cottage would have a tunnel and rooms underground.

  “I know, almost too practical.” Graham suddenly sounded far away. “I found it one mornin’ when—”

  His features took on a green hue as he stared at the torch, then snuffed it out.

  Evelyn pressed a tiny hand to the glass. “Are you okay, Graham? You look like you’re going to be sick.”

  “I was rememberin’, that’s all.” He stuffed the torch back inside his pocket. “I lost my mother when I was a boy. It was my father and me until he took sick and left me, too. Seems none of them were very healthy.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “He didn’t have his own hut the way some of the others in Havenbrim do. Definitely not a cottage like this,” he said, his eyes roving around the room. “So we lived with a cousin who had children and grandchildren, and so many mouths to feed…”

  Evelyn cringed, noting the obvious parallels in their backgrounds. Both had parents who were dead, and lived with a cousin for some time.

  “Did your cousin send you away?”

  “Nah, she would’a kept me around, but I didn’t feel it was right.” His eyes met hers again, his chest puffing out slightly as he continued. “I decided to find my own way. I continued my father’s work of weavin’ baskets. There was plenty of wood in the forest, and I had my father’s tools. Keepin’ near the stream made it easier to soak the shoots and wooden strips, so that’s where I lived.”

  Every last bit of her smile faded. “You lived in the forest?”

  “Yes, and I had plans to build a hut, too. Until someone stole my tools. A man can’t work without his tools. I got behind on orders, and eventually I gave it up.”

  “And you kept living in the forest, alone?”

  He nodded, fidgeting with the collar of his tunic.

  I hope he doesn’t think I’m judging him. Life sounds hard in Havenbrim. She shuddered. Not sure I’d like to stay here, either. What will poor Graham do after he’s finished his apprenticeship?

  Evelyn sighed, and attempted a smile. “How did you end up here with Gelsey and Machin?”

  “I’d come back from berry pickin’ one day, and noticed right away that somethin’ was different. My collection of tin cups had been neatly lined up, and there in my hammock was the torch. The torch had a tag on it, with a message and Machin’s name in writin’ at the end. But I didn’t know what to do with it, because I hadn’t yet learned to read.”

  “How’d you know it was from Machin?”

  “That was the only part I reco’nized. I’d seen his name written before, on a sign announcin’ his need for a ’prentice.”

  Evelyn listened quietly as Graham explained more about how Serah had read what was on the tag the next day, after her interview. And how he’d thought an apprenticeship with Machin was never meant to be.

  She’d wiped a dry, invisible tear from her eye when he’d explained how becoming Machin’s apprentice had been a dream, ever since he was a little boy and first saw a sign with Machin’s name on it, back when his father had been alive.

  Chapter 10

  Graham

  “She can’t stay in there forever. We must get her out.” Graham’s heart pounded.

  He, Machin, and Gelsey were standing around the globe, watching Evelyn slipping back and forth between her human shape and that of an ordinary blue flame. As ordinary as a blue flame with no wick or electrical component can be inside a lantern.

  Graham set down the ram’s horn and sighed. It was getting more and more difficult to hear Evelyn’s voice through the horn, and today she’d withdrawn more than she had since she’d arrived.

  “The poor thing’s fading.” Gelsey tutted. “She hasn’t eaten or had a drop of water in days.”

  “She should have no need for air, food, or water, at least not in her present form,” said Machin. “But Graham is right—Evelyn Bowman is not meant to stay trapped inside this globe. She must transform, to return to her physical body. Soon. I hope Halloween won’t be too late.”

  “And to think Halloween has already happened in her land of Erie.” Gelsey’s hands were on her hips. “I’m still trying to understand how that’s possible.”

  Graham frowned. Halloween in Havenbrim was a night of light and remembrances. It should have been a happy occasion, but everyone in the household was grim. Even the white glow from the lanterns seemed to have dimmed.

  “We’ll celebrate tomorrow as planned,” said Machin. “And we will do our best to include Evelyn in the festivities.” Turning to Gelsey, he added, “Do you have everything you need to bake the fig cakes and gingerbread?”

  “Yes, but it’s difficult to focus on that with the poor girl fading away.”

  He placed a hand on her shoulder. “We must not give up hope.”

  Gelsey nodded, but she looked as if she were about to cry. With an exaggerated sniff, she straightened herself up and left the room.

  The flame inside the lantern jumped. At that moment Evelyn’s arms and hands weren’t distinct from the rest of her light, but the tip of the flame wriggled and seemed to be pointing.

  No one noticed except for Graham.

  “Master Machin—”

  “Prepare for tomorrow, and try not to worry. When the cakes are baked and cooled, you can help Gelsey wrap them. In the meantime, we’ll need to select a few lanterns to place outside with Evelyn. I look forward to your recommendations by tomorrow evening.”

  “But, I—”

  Machin raised a hand.

  “This is not your fault. When you’re selecting the lanterns, remember the connection between light and life. It’s no coincidence that Evelyn’s light is the same color as the flame of your torch. I must get back to work, Graham Webb.”


  With that, Machin excused himself and retreated to the furnace. Graham was surprised Machin hadn’t worn a hole in the floor in front of the furnace, already.

  Graham exhaled. “The trouble with being a ’prentice is that nobody feels they need to listen to me, even when I have somethin’ important to say.”

  He glanced at the lantern. As much as he was drawn to Evelyn and the blue light, everything felt wrong. He couldn’t understand what was making him question his master. It was almost as if he blamed Machin for what had happened, more than he blamed himself. Machin spoke in riddles, leaving Graham to wonder whether his master had a sinister purpose, after all.

  He shook his head and pushed the stool against the back wall. There was no point looking at the lanterns up close for the new task Machin had given him. He’d polished them every day since he’d started working for Machin, and he still didn’t understand what made them glow white. All burned with an impenetrable seal. As far as he knew, each of the globes had been formed at the furnace, crafted from a special form of tektite. All were made of Celestial Glass, not that he knew what made the glass celestial, exactly. Or what that meant. Seemed like another fancy word his master liked to use, such as moon glass.

  Graham shrugged, figuring that when the time came, he’d choose three lanterns at random to leave outside for Halloween.

  “Light and life,” he muttered, repeating his master’s words.

  His lips twisted. “Is he tryin’ to tell me there are more flame-people, like Evelyn, inside those globes? Was I supposed to get trapped inside one of those, too?”

  Glancing at the lantern on the table, he whispered, “Did Evelyn end up inside my globe, instead?”

  He sucked in a breath. Machin’s wrong. This is my fault.

  The blue flame inside the globe flickered. The features of Evelyn’s face reappeared, followed by arms and legs.

  She waved and smiled.

  Graham lowered his head, tempted to brush the globe with his lips. “Glad to see you’re back,” he said. “Are you feelin’ better?”

  In response to Evelyn’s look of confusion, Graham pressed the ram’s horn to the glass.