His reaction was immediate; he flinched, my horrified face clearly disturbing him. “Well, that’s for you to find out, I guess.” He shrugged and turned his back, his indifference settling too fast to be sincere.
“And those…Hollowborn. What are they?” I pressed. No way I was giving up now when he was opening up.
“They were once men. Powerful, hungry for magic. Some humans have that–they’re born with an affinity for magic. Born hollow. Their heart craves it, seeks it. And when they find it, it lingers, you know. Magic clings to bones and rocks. Theirs remained in their bodies after death, and someone took advantage of that.”
“Someone? You mean the man who calls himself Cagliostro?”
He tossed another piece of apple to the turtles. “Yes.”
“They’re walking corpses? Driven by some residual magic?” I guessed, realizing how absurd it sounded.
“They’re much more than that, Daphne, but that would be enough to teach you to avoid them.” He wiped his sticky fingers on his black pants and looked around. “Well, time to wish you happy stealing or whatever you’re up to, Miss Daphne.” He prepared to leave.
“Wait, those…Hollowborn–are they around only at night?” I tried to hide the urgency in my voice. And failed miserably.
“Yes and no, Miss Daphne. But if you think you could just walk out of here and go back to your masters, you’re very mistaken. If you think that they’d keep their deal and give you whatever they promised you, you’re naïve. Or plainly stupid.” His eyes turned cold. “Now, if you’d excuse me, I have places to be.” He strode to the door, his demeanor completely changed. Now, he was again the bored, cold lord who enjoyed playing violin.
“You wouldn’t ask what they promised me?” I said, desperate to keep him for a moment longer.
He paused at the door. “What did they promise you?” He halfway turned, his profile framed by golden sunlight.
“Freedom.”
A shadow passed over his face.
I got him. He was probably expecting something mundane, like riches or eternal youth, or whatever evil men with wings offered.
“Seems like we have something in common after all, Miss Daphne. Wish you luck with your bargain with these monsters. And please don’t wake up my bat. He gets cranky when he doesn’t get his daily sleep.” Then, he was gone. I opened my mouth and closed it in dismay. Did I say something wrong?
Sweet Lord, what did I get myself dragged into? Hollowborn, a brooding man with wings, a talking fruit bat and a moody manor.
“How did it go, Daphne?” the Unbidden mocked. “Not so well? Now, do you want to go for a swim? I can show you a way out. But I have a price. You know what I want. What’s been promised to me.”
I scoffed. More than ever, I felt the need to get away. Away from that too-cozy greenhouse. Away from this strange man who turned my certainties into ash.
Daphne
The secret room
Iknew it in my bones: any delusion that Emrys was a harmless madman who talked to bats and turtles and played the violin was dangerous. And yet, he was fuel for my curiosity. I couldn’t stop thinking about his words. How his face changed when he heard the word freedom. Was this longing? Sadness? Something darker? It irked me he called Vexley and Cagliostro my masters. Emrys knew nothing about what it was to be a woman beyond these walls. Wicked men were holding my life and my freedom in their hands, and all I could do was pretend to obey and wait for the right time. Give them their moment of power, and then do whatever the hell you want. I’d better use the same tactic on him.
I lingered in the empty greenhouse, basking in the warmth and the scents of damp earth and blossoms. A cricket was chirping somewhere in the green depths, and there was some soft snoring–probably Nibble had settled already for his daily nap.
It was not only Emrys. This whole place was dangerous. It was a trap laid bare and had a way of playing with my wishes and desires, flooding my mind with visions of how things could be.
I shook my head, ignoring the sudden urge to sit at the rim of the marble fountain, feed the two turtles that curiously peeked at me, listen to that cricket and the bat snoring. Dangerous. If I let my guard down and succumb to these temptations, I might end up ensnarled by the quiet of these halls, wandering the ever-changing corridors forever.
“Get yourself together, Daphne,” I murmured. “Fortune favors the brave.” It was time to go back and continue my search for clues. The Unbidden remained quiet when I hurried back to the glass door of the solarium. Eyes delved into the back of my head. Something from the lake was watching me.
I entered the manor through the bright solarium. It was unchanged. The ferns slightly nodded when I walked by. I rubbed my hands to warm them and peered at the room beyond. It looked different. Two unfamiliar passageways led into the manor’s bowels. Which one would take me to Emrys’s study?
“You know what I want, don’t you? I said. My shoes clicked against the checkered floor. Two corridors. Which one to take? I took another step and smelled them. The air in the right one was stale, laced with the scent of books and candle wax. The one to the left was emitting a metallic scent and buzzed with an odd energy. Right appeared to be the safer choice. If I could return to the library and then search the first floor, that would be something. If this house lets me do this. Taking a deep breath, I chose the right one.
The bright morning light faded behind me. Worn-out carpets muffled my steps. The scent of old wood and wax got overwhelming. Thick candles replaced the stained glass gaslanterns on the walls, their waxy tears building stalagmites on the floor. It was quiet, but there was a whisper of a distant draft behind the walls. Chills ran down my neck. God only knows what secret passages were inside them. Once again, eyes dug into my back as if the manor itself was a living, breathing being that liked to play with its prey like a bored predator. Thick velvet curtains stood in my way. I parted them and walked into a grand door.
Very well. What was beyond? I took a candle from the bronze wall sconce. Hot wax trickled over my fingers, but I didn’t make a sound. Holding it high above my head, I entered the room.
The darkness inside seemed to defy all natural laws. It framed the flickering light of my candle, but the circle of timid light in my hand was uneven as if the gloom were taking tiny bites out of the flickering halo. This looked like a once opulent ballroom. Crystal chandeliers draped with spiderwebs glimmered in the candlelight, and intricate mosaics graced the floor. And at the center of it: a dusty piano.
