Elsa needed to hurry. Sweat filmed her skin. Her glasses slid down her nose, and she pushed them up again. What she needed was a pair of suitcases large enough to carry all of these at once. She’d seen a set in Linus’s bedroom across the hall. She didn’t need the light to find them.
When she stepped into the hall, however, the smoke was so thick and hot she jumped back into Birdie’s room and slammed the door shut. A fresh wave of adrenaline pumped through her. Kneeling, she touched the floor and immediately drew back from its warmth.
The house was on fire beneath her.
She tore off her sweater and went to the water closet, intendingto soak the fabric in water and hold it over her mouth and nose while she tried to find a way out.
No water. Of course they would have turned it off since they were tearing the house down tomorrow. She leaned on the sink and tried to think past the pounding in her head, the shaking in her limbs.
She could still get the aviary pages out through the window. The fire hadn’t reached the second floor yet. It was only smoke, and smoke would rise to the ceiling, which meant if she stayed low, she could creep under it. She had to try.
Tying the sweater around her nose and mouth, she opened the door to the corridor once more and crouched as she crossed into Linus’s room, grabbed the two suitcases from his dressing chamber, and hurried back into Birdie’s room. Again, she slammed the door.
The sweater slipped down around her neck. She let it fall, gasping for air, though the quality even here was deteriorating. Asking God for another miraculous surge of strength, she threw open the suitcase, piled in the eight framed paintings, and stuffed a pillow on top to pad it. Into the other one went all the unframed paintings, along with the other pillow from Birdie’s bed.
Elsa’s throat began to close, and her lungs burned. She looked at the bed, wondering if she had time to pull off a sheet, thread it through the handles of the suitcases, and gently lower them down to the ground outside.
Black spots dotted her vision. Time was up. Her lungs would give out before the fire even reached her.
An incessant, repetitive noise filtered through her clouding consciousness. Barking. It was Barney, barking outside. Another voice pitched high cried, “Chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee! Chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee! Elsa! Elsa!”
Gasping for air, Elsa went to the window and leaned out to find Danielle and Tatiana with Barney between them. When Daniellesaw Elsa, she moaned and flapped her arms. Wind from the fire whipped the child’s hair and snapped her nightdress above her bare feet.
“Elsa!” Tatiana cried, her voice serrated with terror, her greying braid unraveled. “Get out now!” Flames from below crackled and rushed with the sound of a moving train. Glass shattered as windows exploded from heat.
Elsa threw her cane from the window so it landed well away from Tatiana and Danielle.
Then Luke ran into view, his face and clothes streaked with soot and soaked with sweat. “Elsa! I can’t get to you without walking through fire. You have to jump.” He held out his arms.
With no breath to explain, she lifted a suitcase and threw it out. He caught it and put it down before she tossed the second one, as well.
“Okay, chickadee, time to fly.”
She knew he was right. She swung her legs over the windowsill, the heat at her back like an iron to her skin. All at once, the exertions of the night caught up with her, and she wasn’t sure how far she could push off the ledge to jump down.
Luke moved so he was as directly beneath the window as he could get. “Just fall.”
She did.
The next thing she knew, she was tangled in his arms and on the ground, on top of him. She’d clobbered him as he’d broken her fall. “I’m sorry,” she rasped. “Did I hurt you?”
He sat up, cradling her against his chest. “Nearly.” He covered her hair and face with kisses. Her lungs still burned, and her entire body hurt, but she was safe. And she wasn’t alone. When he stood and lifted her in his arms, Elsa looked over his shoulder.
While flames reached the second floor in the mansion behind them, Tatiana picked up Elsa’s cane and one suitcase, and Danielle picked up the other. They had no idea what they carried.
If Elsa were to fall asleep now, she wasn’t sure how many hours would pass before she could wake up. So when Luke brought her to Tatiana’s couch and urged her to lie down, she refused.
“Drink.” Tatiana pressed a full glass of water into Elsa’s hand, and she gratefully sipped.
Luke sat beside her, and Danielle sat cross-legged on the floor, rubbing Barney’s ears, her worried gaze darting to Elsa and back to Barney at intervals. “I knew you needed help,” the child said, her tangled hair loose at her shoulders. “You were with that man who came here looking for the aviary. The one with hair the color of Sunny’s feathers.” She glanced toward Birdie’s canary, quiet now in its cage.
“That doesn’t describe Hugh Geoffrey,” Luke said, voicing Elsa’s thoughts as well.
Tatiana nodded. “They both came. First Dr. Geoffrey, then Archer.”
“When you didn’t come out after so long, I sent Barney to find you,” Danielle said, giving the dog an extra scratch between his ears. “Mr. Luke let him stay here with us a few days this week, overnight and everything.”
“He likes it here,” Luke told her, and Elsa knew what he’d left unsaid. Barney calmed Danielle. The dog was good for her during this tumultuous time.
