The Angel of Elydria (The Dawn Mirror Chronicles Book 1) (29 page)

“Ooh, Auntie has outdone herself! Wonderful! Please, don’t be shy, Penny, have as much as you like!” Annette coaxed as Millie poured a cup of tea for each of them before disappearing back into the hall.

Surprised by Annette’s amiability, Penny found she was quite enjoying their time together. Each dessert was its own sensory experience and Penny felt almost sad as she took the last few bites of tart, knowing it might be a long time before she got to taste anything half as wonderful again. She wished that Hector could have tasted them, knowing how much he loved sweets.

Penny inquired about the different plants in the Sun Garden, surprised to discover that gardening, embroidery, and sewing were just a few of Annette’s many beloved pastimes. She seemed happy to discuss her hobbies and interests with Penny, but avoided more personal and direct questions with surprising tact.

Her open nature confused Penny at first, until it dawned on her that everyone in Iverton must know everything about Annette, and it had probably been a long time since Annette had been able to share herself as a person and not a celebrity. Penny listened intently, genuinely interested in what Annette had to say despite the alarm building in her chest. The whole ordeal was very much like the kind of dream she wished she would never wake from.

Annette’s stream of conversation halted. “My goodness, listen to me! I’ve gone on and on, how rude of me. Please, tell me a bit about yourself. I’m guessing you’re not from around here?” Annette prompted, her eyes sparkling.

Penny scratched at the back of her head, trying to think of ways to lie as little as possible. “That’s true, I came from Oreg…a very distant place and I’m here visiting with my two friends, but other than that I’m really not very interesting,” she told Annette, offering a mental apology for her plainness. It was becoming harder to deceive Annette. Penny liked her. She did not know what she had expected the actress to be like in person, but this certainly wasn’t it. It was almost impossible to imagine why anyone would want Annette to suffer.

“I’m sorry, what was it that you said you did? I must’ve missed it,” Penny said, congratulating herself for sounding so convincing.

Annette’s expression dampened. “I was afraid you’d ask that,” she said in a small voice, her gaze moving from the tea set to the lilies that surrounded them. “In truth, I’m an actress and a singer. Actually, it might sound bad―but half the reason I invited you in here was because you don’t know who I am. You don’t know how tiresome it can get…being stopped on the street all the time, keeping up an image, entertaining everyone all the time, not knowing who wants to be my friend just because I’m famous…”

Penny did her best to look shocked as Annette’s head drooped, a bittersweet smile on the actress’s face. A rush of emotion hit her knowing that her assumptions about Annette’s loneliness had been quite correct, and the spike of guilt buried itself deeper in her chest.

“Just now, in the store―I mean, where you dropped your things,” Penny began, having every intention to tell the truth, but Annette interrupted, pouting.

“So you saw that, huh? That was Valentine Frost,” she scowled, an undercurrent of deep anger in her voice. “She―”

“She’s awful,” Penny said at once, losing her courage to tell Annette what she needed to. Annette flashed a mischievous grin.

“She
is
awful, isn’t she? Just a bitter, old has-been with an inflated ego,” Annette snickered, then added, “Oh, would you like to see to the rest of the house?”

Against her better judgment Penny nodded and Annette led her back down the hall, opening doors and showing off a few guest rooms that would have sufficed as master bedrooms most anywhere in Penny’s hometown. Annette showed her a few sitting rooms, telling Penny amusing stories of incidences that had occurred in each one of them as if they were old friends. They explored the kitchens, which were well-equipped and large enough to supply food for a restaurant.

“Auntie spends a lot of time in here―she loves to cook,” Annette said, skipping around the stove. “Come on, let’s go see the dining room. The king even came to eat here one time!”

Annette swept her through the rest of the three-story house, and after some careful consideration invited Penny to see her bedroom. With light footsteps, Penny entered Annette’s private sanctum, wondering how many people in Iverton would give everything just to be in her place right now.

A huge closet set against the back wall overflowed with dresses, each of them designed with lace, ruffles, bows, and charming prints. Annette’s four-poster bed was carved of white wood and draped in sheer pink curtains, an assortment of stuffed animals and pillows spilling over the sides and onto the floor. Toys and sparkling trinkets lay all over the room, some cluttered on a regal-looking desk, and the vanity was so covered with makeup products Penny couldn’t see the surface. A jar of tiny translucent stones cut into the shape of stars sat on the center of the desk beside a hand-painted music box, a miniature carousel, and a collection of fancy dolls.

“Come see the view!” Annette rushed over to her curtain-framed window and looked out at Iverton stretching before them. Penny joined her at the window and smiled as Annette looked at her. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

Penny laughed, feeling self-conscious. “No…not really. Truth be told, I don’t have many friends,” Penny admitted.

Annette gave her an understanding smile, which said more than any verbal sentiment could have communicated. Gavin called for Annette then, and they left Annette’s sanctum to see what he wanted.

Entering a chamber on the floor below, Penny was once again dumbfounded. Wide, tall windows lined the back wall, offering another panoramic view of the city. In the center of the room was a large instrument that bore a striking resemblance to a piano, made of the same white and gold carvings that seemed to be a central theme in the house. Several other musical instruments, some stringed and some made of bronzy metals, were displayed on their respective stands. Bookshelves packed top to bottom with musical scores and compositions were pushed up against the walls. Gavin was digging around in one of them, searching for a score that Annette helped him find in under a minute.

“This room―it’s amazing,” Penny choked, stepping up to the keyed instrument in the center and trying a few of the keys, enjoying the sound that filled the air as she did. “Can you play
all
these instruments?”

“Oh, no! I can sing, but I’m miserable when it comes to these things. Gavin’s the real genius between us,” Annette laughed, her china blue eyes filled with affection for her cousin. He smiled at her compliment and tossed his wispy hair.

“Go on, Gavin dear, play something for her,” Annette urged.

Gavin sighed, a light smile still playing on his lips. “Well, if you insist,” he conceded, sliding down onto the bench. His strong, wide hands positioned themselves expertly above the keys.

Everything was quiet for a split second before Gavin’s fingers came to life over the keys, filling the room with an exquisite song. Annette had not been flattering him when she called him a genius; he played the complex, romping melody with confident ease. The music swelled and spun over their heads, and Penny’s heart danced. When Annette’s voice sang out clear and pure, Penny closed her eyes and let the music envelope her.

Annette and Gavin were perfectly in time and tune with one another, working together as if they could read each other’s minds. Annette was everything Penny had always wanted to be, and seeing her stand so carefree and perfect made Penny realize how mismatched she felt in their world. The guilt at having not conveyed her warning to Annette deepened with a painful ache. When the song was over, Penny erupted into excited applause. Annette laughed and Gavin took a sweeping bow.

“That was
wonderful!
” Penny exclaimed.

“Well, thank you. All credit to Gavin, though―I’d be nothing without him. He taught me everything I know.”

Gavin smiled and excused himself. Penny’s stomach squirmed. It was past time to explain.

“Annette,” she started, feeling her voice tremble, “Listen, it’s been really fun visiting with you today. I feel so honored to have met you―”

“I know, I’m so glad we met! Maybe―maybe you could visit me again? I wish I could come out and meet you and your friends somewhere, but…you know…”

“I’d―I’d really like that, but—I feel terrible…I’ve been meaning to tell you something―” Penny stammered, feeling her voice crash into a diminuendo.

Annette picked up on her remorseful nature and drew back. “Huh?” she breathed.

“I haven’t been completely honest with you, and before I say anything I want you to know I’m extremely sorry for it,” Penny said, staring at her feet in misery.

“What are you talking about?” an ashen Annette demanded.

Penny balled up her fists and prayed for strength. “Listen, I know how this sounds―but that Valentine woman is―she’s trying to hurt you. Someone is going to kidnap you, and she’s helping them. It’s all going to―”

“What?” Annette yelped. “How could you possibly know―you
lied
to me?”

“Please, you’ve got to hear me out,” Penny tried, but Annette’s eye grew fierce, all her childlike sweetness gone.

“
Sit down
,” she ordered in an odd tone that seemed to vibrate in Penny’s ears and shiver in her body. Penny felt their power as if she had screamed them.

Something was very different about her voice; something was wrong. Penny’s heart thudded in her chest as her body began to move of its own accord, drifting into the chair that stood by the piano. Annette fluttered over and shut the door with a resolve in her countenance that scared Penny. She struggled to stand back up, but her legs would not allow her to move.

Annette turned and spoke again in her bizarre, authoritative voice,
“You will not move from where you sit. If you have any intention of harming me or my family, you will immediately be rid of it. You will not be able to lie from this moment on, do you understand?”

Penny nodded, realizing with a sick whirl of fear that she was unable to disobey Annette Deveaux’s commands.

W
aves of fear tried to shake Penny, but her body felt as if it were bound by invisible cords at every joint. Panicked, Penny looked around, trying to rationalize what was happening to her. Drawing up a chair, Annette sat down across from her without breaking eye contact.

“What’s…happening to me?” Penny gasped.

“Quiet, please. I’ll be asking the questions for now,” Annette said. “Now, tell me what you’re doing here?”

“I―I came here to warn you, just like I said. Valentine is trying to hurt you,” Penny repeated, her head spinning as she felt her lips move without her consent.

Annette’s expression rippled with shock as she digested this. “So you
were
telling the truth…” she mumbled, half to herself. “How did you find out about Valentine’s plan? Don’t leave out any details.”

“A-a―” Penny struggled against the sensation that tempted her to spill all her secrets and lost the battle. “An elf called Aldridge gave m-me some tickets to your show. I had never seen you before, my friend Simon persuaded me to g-go. When I was there I s-s-saw a man called Deimos Geller in the audience. He’s trying to kill me and my friends―I don’t know why. It was because of him I was forced to come to this world and I was curious to see why he was after us, so I tried to steal his memories―”

“Wait―
what?
Stop, stop! Didn’t you hear me when I said
no lying
?” she stressed in a powerful, vibrating tone that resonated in Penny’s ears.

“I heard you, I can’t lie,” Penny’s mouth said for her. She could not remember ever feeling so powerless. Tears burned in her eyes and she bit her tongue to stop them from coming. All the color in Annette’s face drained as she processed what Penny had said.

“No, something must be wrong. That’s impossible…there’s no such thing as other worlds―and isn’t Deimos Geller the Baron of Dewthorne? This can’t be. You’ve got some way of rendering it useless…” Annette said to herself, a hand on her forehead as she stared at Penny.

“What did you mean when you said you ‘tried to steal his memories’?” Annette questioned, bemused.