My heart leapt.
A piano!
I couldn’t resist the instinct to run my fingers over the yellowed keys. The tones sliced through the silence, sharp and incredibly vivid; they rolled between the furniture covered with stained white sheets. Carefully placing the candle on top, I settled in the chair. What was I doing? I had a task, but this—this piano was calling me. How long had it been since I last played?
How long had it been since I did something I enjoyed without risking a punishment?
My hands took control, and soon, a bittersweet melody that had been living in my head forever spilled into the silence. It swelled down the tricky corridors, filled the empty rooms, and startled the spiders in the corners. A smile stretched my lips, and I surrendered to the melody, humming with my eyes closed. The manor seemed to hold its breath. Listening. It felt good—it’s been forever since I had an audience. Arthur had done his best to “cure” my passion for music, destroyed my piano and punished me every time he caught me singing. Now, I could only laugh at his pathetic attempts to smother this passion. Little cruel men like him didn’t understand that it was impossible.
The last note rolled like a silver coin in the silence, and I opened my eyes. Darkness was still around me, the daylight locked away by heavy brocade curtains covering the tall windows, but the gloom was different. It was smug, like a cat at a fireplace, nodding at me with a content smile.
“Did you like this?” My voice came a little shaky. For some unknown reason, a weight lifted from my shoulders. I could still play. I still enjoyed it. “Help me learn more about Emrys and his secret, and there’ll be more!” The Unbidden was quiet in my head, but I chuckled at my own words. I was bargaining with a house! Distant whispers and a soft draft moved the candle flame and I looked around. There was nobody, just deep shadows. That draft again. Colder, more insistent. It nearly smothered my light. Calling me. Where was it coming from? I pushed myself up, picked up my candle and followed the invisible fingers, luring me forward. There was something on the wall. I brought the candle forward and inspected it. That was a door camouflaged by the gildedornaments and silk wallpaper. A tiny, inconspicuous door I wouldn’t have noticed if it hadn’t opened beneath my fingers. The smell of damp stone wafted from the depths beyond it, but there was also some odd, cold shimmer. Something was beckoning me to enter. A promise lingered in the air—there was an answer, a secret waiting to be revealed. I stood for a moment, hesitating. Should I enter or return to the solarium?
Running won’t bring much. I prepared to descend into the darkness and threw one last look over my shoulder.
Sweet Lord –
I was no longer alone.
The candle flickered in my shaking hand. The temperature dropped so fast that my exhale came out in a white huff. I threw a look over my shoulder.
A boy no older than twelve sat at the piano. Something in his posture reminded me of Arthur—the way he was before my parents passed away–young and vulnerable. But his shape was glowing with a faint light, his clothes and haircut bleeding into the darkness when he moved. The ghostly boy was hitting the keys with rage. No sound came from the instrument. But in my head spilled a chaotic melody of anger and terror.
“He knows you are here,” the Unbidden whispered. The spectral boy stood up from the piano chair, his back still turned.
I held back a scream, the candle nearly slipping from my sweaty fingers. No way I was waiting for him to discover me. I pushed the narrow door open, and to my terror, it screeched loud. Too loud.
Dear God, he must have heard me!
Ice crawled down my spine. I didn’t need to turn around. I knew he was behind me. His icy breath grazed my neck.
“Sweet Mother Mary,” I whispered, turning around.
The boy was so close I could see every detail of his old-fashioned suit and his wide, angry, terrified eyes. He seemed to try to tell me something, but his lips…
His lips were stitched with thick black thread. Blood trickled from every tiny hole. He reached for my hand, as if trying to stop me.
My stomach rolled when I looked closer.
The worst was the deep hole in his chest. His elegant shirt was cut open, and someone had carved his heart out.
The fear that made my limbs shake was swept away by something unexpected.
Pity.
Who did this to a child?
A mystery for later. I turned on my heel and dashed into the unknown beyond the door, cupping my candle—my only connection to the world outside. The boy didn’t follow, but I could sense his sad eyes on my back.
“To be betrayed by those who were supposed to protect you isn’t that the most tragic fate. You know that very well, Daphne,” the Unbidden said.
“What happened to him?” I asked, still running down the steep stone corridor. My heart was still hammering in my throat, but I was regaining my composure.
“His father did that to him. He traded his life for knowledge no mortal should possess.” My steps slowed. Poorchild! This could have been me if I had stayed home, at Arthur’s mercy.
The answer was so unexpected that I nearly stumbled on my long skirt and tumbled down the rough stone floor. The Unbidden spoke in riddles or sarcastic comments but never answered my questions. We never had any sort of dialogue.
“Wait, you can answer my questions now?” I said. “Who was his father?”
