Read The Master of Heathcrest Hall Online

Authors: Galen Beckett

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General

The Master of Heathcrest Hall (67 page)

To Ivy’s astonishment, the soldiers passed by the three of them without so much as a glance. Only then her surprise transmuted into a horror as the soldiers reached the foot of the stairs. Ivy had told Rose to go to the gallery on the second floor, to wait by the leaf-carved door. She would be standing in plain sight.

The soldiers started up the stairs.

Ivy nearly leaped up off the sofa, consumed with some half-mad thought to surrender herself to the soldiers so they would leave Rose alone. Only before she could do such a foolish thing, one of the men gave a shout.

“Look, out there!”

So startled was she that Ivy momentarily forgot Mr. Garritt’s rule and lifted her head to look. Only it did not matter, for by then all the soldiers were running across the hall toward their companion who had called out. He pointed to one of the windows. Beyond the glass, Ivy saw something move: a lithe shadow. The dark figure flitted past the glass, too quickly to be seen clearly, then disappeared from view.

“She’s gone to the garden!” one of the men exclaimed, and at once the soldiers ran to the door and exited.

The moment they were gone, the Tharosian statue sprang to life and went to Ivy. Only it was no longer a statue at all, but Mr. Garritt.

“That was a most excellent trick, Garritt,” Mr. Rafferdy said, grinning as he lowered his cane and turned it upright. “But I fear it won’t fool them for long.”

“No, it won’t,” Mr. Garritt said, and he reached down a hand to help Ivy to her feet.

“How did you do that?” she breathed, all else forgotten in a moment of wonder.

He smiled a little. “It was a phantasm. But contrary to what Rafferdy here said, it was anything but excellently done. Rather it was hasty, and we lacked proper costumes, which was why we had to stay very still. Even so, if the men had looked directly at us for more than a few moments, they would have seen it.”

“Only they didn’t.”

He nodded. “An eye will tend to behold what its owner expects to see. The soldiers would not presume anyone to have remained in the front hall when they barged in. So I allowed their eyes to glimpse the very things they anticipated instead—a
room empty of all but furniture—and they accepted this sight willingly.”

“I suppose they might have expected to see their quarry flee into the garden as well,” Mr. Rafferdy said. “And so you created the phantasm outside the window.”

Now Mr. Garritt frowned. “Perhaps they did expect such a thing. The soldiers certainly needed little convincing to go in pursuit of it. But it is not possible to create two illusions at such a distance from one another, or at least not for me. Perhaps some illusionists could do so, but I cannot.”

“What are you saying?” Mr. Rafferdy said, scowling himself.

“I mean that I did not conjure the figure outside the window. Whatever the men saw beyond the glass, it was really there.”

“But then who was it?”

Perhaps it had been the man in the black mask. Though even as Ivy thought this, she recalled that the shadow had not been nearly so tall as he. Then again, he could conjure illusions himself, though they were not entirely the same sort as Mr. Garritt’s.

There was no time to consider it further. Whatever the figure outside the window had been, the soldiers would soon return to the house when they realized Ivy was not in the garden.

“We must hurry,” Ivy said, starting up the stairs. “Rose will be waiting for us.”

The two men followed after her.

Ivy expected to hear shouts and the sound of booted feet at any moment, but the only noises were those which their own feet made upon the stairs. Quickly they reached the top, then passed through an arch into the long space of the gallery. Rose stood at the far end, beside the door Arantus, a bundle of cloaks in her arms.

“What is it, Ivy?” Rose said as they reached her. Her eyes were wide. “I heard men shouting below.”

“They were soldiers,” Ivy said.

Rose hugged the cloaks tight to her. “You mean rebel soldiers?”

Ivy shook her head. “No, not rebels, but all the same we must not be seen by them.”

“They are bad soldiers, then. Like the ones who took Mr. Quent.”

“I do not think those men were truly bad, Rose. They were only doing as they were commanded by their officers, as are these men. Even so, we must leave here at once.”

“Leave? To go to Heathcrest Hall, you mean?”

“Yes, just as Father said.”

Rose gasped. “Oh, but I’ve always wanted to see Heathcrest, ever since reading your letters, Ivy. Are Mr. Rafferdy and Mr. Garritt coming with us?”

“No, Rose, they are not.”

She bit her lip, looking crestfallen for a moment, but then she brightened. “But Mr. Quent will be coming, won’t he? It’s his house, so I am sure he will be joining you and Lily and me there.”

Ivy drew a breath, knowing she did not have time to fully explain everything to her sister, and not certain she could do so even if she had hours rather than moments. “You will learn more when we arrive there, Rose. But Lily won’t be coming with us. She is going to be staying in the city with Mr. Garritt for the time being.”

Now Rose’s look of wonder was replaced by one of confusion. “I don’t understand. Why isn’t Lily coming with us?”

Ivy sighed. “I am sorry, dearest. I know this is all very sudden, but there isn’t time to explain right now. We must go at once. Nor are we going to Heathcrest by any usual means. What you are to see may frighten you, but I promise you that all will be well. I’ll need you to be brave, though. And to shut your eyes when I tell you to, and not open them. Can you do that?”

Rose’s eyes were very large at the moment, but she nodded.

“Have the soldiers returned yet?” Mr. Garritt said.

Mr. Rafferdy took a few steps toward the stairs and shook his head. “I don’t hear them.”

That struck Ivy as odd. It seemed to her the soldiers should have discovered she was not in the garden by now and returned to the house to look for her. Well, in any case, she would not delay. She lifted the box of Wyrdwood and touched its lid. The tendrils
of wood, frozen and lifeless a moment ago, now untwined themselves from one another.

Ivy heard all three of the others draw in a breath.

“Oh!” Rose exclaimed. “It’s the box made from the Old Trees.”

Ivy looked up at her, startled. “How do you know that?”

“Father told me about it. Just like he told me about the doors here in the gallery, and how they open to other places.”

Mr. Garritt was gazing at Rose with a puzzled expression, but Mr. Rafferdy nodded. “So Mr. Lockwell really is still here,” he said, his voice low with wonder. “Or some part of him, at least.”

Yes, her father was still here. And because of him, and because of Rose, there was yet hope. Ivy opened the lid of the box and took out the wooden key that was shaped like a leaf. She approached the door Arantus and searched for the place where there was a slight gap in the pattern of carved leaves.

There it was, near the center of the door. Ivy set the wooden leaf into the gap. It fit into place with a satisfying click. Ivy gripped the doorknob and took in a breath.

Then she opened the door.

A puff of air blew outward: cold, dry, and faintly metallic. It was old, this air—more ancient than any contained in a clay jar, still sealed with wax, that had been disinterred from a Tharosian ruin. All the same, it did no harm to them as they breathed it in. As Ivy had discovered previously, there was some manner of protection around the way station: a magick that protected it from the frigid aether that filled the void between the planets.

“By all the saints,” Mr. Garritt said behind her, his voice somewhat faint, “what in Eternum is this place?”

“It is indeed celestial in nature,” Ivy said, “but it is nothing to do with Eternum.” She moved closer to the door. Beyond was the same featureless plain of gray-green dust she recalled. Stars blazed in the firmament, and a great lavender orb, skirted by a circle of sharp-edged rings, dominated a full quadrant of the black sky. “The planet you see above is Dalatair, and we are gazing at the surface of one of its moons, Arantus. Those heaps of stones you
can spy in the distance are gates—doorways that open to other places. Places here in Altania.”

“But that’s impossible!”

“No, Garritt,” Mr. Rafferdy said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “It is magick.”

Rose tightened her grip on the cloaks and lifted herself up onto her toes. “You did it, Ivy! You did magick after all, just like you tried to do that day in the parlor on Whitward Street.”

Despite all that had happened, and all that must yet occur, Ivy could not help smiling a little at that memory, which now seemed so long ago. How silly she had been to think she could work magick. She knew now that she never would. But she had her own abilities.

“No, Rose, I did not make this. I only unlocked it. The door was created by a magician long ago, the one who built this house.”

Mr. Rafferdy took Ivy’s arm and drew her aside. “Are you certain about this?” he said, his voice low so Rose could not hear. “What if you become lost?”

“We won’t,” Ivy said. “When I was here before, I looked through many of the gates. Some of them still open into stands of Wyrdwood, and there was one that I am sure is the very grove near Heathcrest.”

There was worry in his brown eyes, and his expression was grim, but he nodded. “All the same, you must be careful. Even if it is no issue to find the gate you seek, what lies beyond it I cannot say.”

Nor could Ivy, but it was what she had to do. “I will be careful,” she said. “But there is more you do not know, about my father.”

“Mr. Lockwell? What is it?”

Quickly, keeping her voice to a whisper as he had done, she explained how Mr. Bennick had stolen her father from Madstone’s; how he was seeking the fragments of some powerful artifact, a keystone; and how he could only be in league with Gambrel, who had returned, and was the true magus of the High Order of the Golden Door, rather than his puppet Lord Davarry.

For a moment Mr. Rafferdy was dumbstruck by these revelations. At last he nodded. “So Gambrel is back. I confess, things make more sense now that I am aware of this fact. It certainly goes a great distance toward explaining what became of Lord Mertrand, and how one so unremarkable as Lord Davarry could suddenly rise to a position of leadership.”

Ivy laid a hand upon his arm. “You must be careful yourself, Mr. Rafferdy. I do not know what Gambrel schemes, but I know he will tolerate no magicians who are not in league with him.”

He seemed to stiffen. What he was thinking, she did not know, but at last he nodded.

Mr. Garritt came to them then, after having been at the windows for a moment. “I still do not hear the soldiers below,” he said. “And I do not see them out in the garden, either.”

This puzzled Ivy, but all the same she would not delay further, for surely the men would return at any moment.

“You must both leave at once,” she said. “And if you see any of the servants, tell them to flee. They already have their wages for the month.”

Mr. Garritt gave a solemn nod. “Do not have any fear about us, Lady Quent. I can get Rafferdy and myself out of here unseen.”

Ivy could only marvel at this. “Mr. Garritt, you are remarkable! You have helped us escape from soldiers with hardly the bat of an eye. I must believe you are used to this sort of thing.”

For some reason, this caused him to blush, and he seemed bereft of any suitable reply.

It was Rafferdy who spoke instead. “There is one more thing.” He removed something from his coat pocket. It was a dim gray gem. He spoke several words of magick over it, then pressed it into her hand.

“This has already expended itself once,” he said quickly. “But I have cast an enchantment on it that should allow you to see an echo of the things that it revealed to me. When you are ready, tap it three times and gaze into it.”

Ivy turned the gem around in her fingers. “But what is it?”

“It has to do with your husband, and with Lady Shayde. They were … but no, I cannot explain. It is best if you see it for yourself. Now go.”

Ivy slipped the gem into the pocket of her dress, then took one of the cloaks from Rose and put it on while her sister did the same. Ivy clasped Rose’s hand, and together they approached the door. As they reached the threshold, she cast a glance over her shoulder, at Mr. Rafferdy and Mr. Garritt standing beside each other. She could only think how fortunate she was to know two men who were so brave, so kind, and so true. Somehow, though it seemed impossible, she found herself smiling at them.

Then she turned to face the door, and squeezed Rose’s hand. “Do not be afraid, dearest.”

“I won’t be afraid if I’m with you,” Rose said, squeezing back.

Together, the sisters stepped through the door.

 

“W
ELL,” RAFFERDY SAID as he quietly shut the door, “she is gone, then.”

“That place we saw through there,” Eldyn said, his eyes fixed upon the leaf-carved surface of the door, “is it really on some moon? I suppose it looked strange enough to be such. In which case, I wonder if Mrs. Quent and her sister can really be safe there?”

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