The Blue Flames, page 26
Caradoc smiled. “And now you’ve seen the wide world.”
“Yes, and thank God for it.” She stuffed her canteen into the pouch hanging from Annabelle’s saddle. “I suppose that kind of life is all right for some, but I sympathized with Galena when she lamented having to stay within the walls of Harroway.”
“Didn’t it bother your sisters as well?”
Harriet stroked Annabelle’s silky nose where there was a patch of white shaped like a diamond. “We never really talked about it. What was there to discuss about an expectation? You simply had to do what was required and say no more about it.” Her eyes filled with worry as her hand moved to an amber-colored brooch pinned to her lapel.
“I’m sure they’re all right,” Caradoc said, guessing her thoughts. “We’d have read something in the papers about them otherwise.”
“Oh. I know they are.” She held the brooch between her thumb and forefinger. “My mother gave me this when I got married. She said it would change color if anyone in our family ever fell sick or injured. I know it’s only a silly superstition, but it still brings me comfort somehow.”
“Best hold tight to it, then. That’s worth more than all the silver in Harroway.” He patted Bessie’s shoulder. “Ready to go, Bess?”
Harriet swung up into Annabelle’s saddle and adjusted the folds of her dress with a sigh. “I might’ve thought of getting a pair of riding trousers before we left that first town. I don’t fancy traveling side-saddle all the way to Mastmarner.”
Caradoc stepped into the stirrups and mounted his horse. “Well, that farmer offered you a pair.”
“Yes, a pair that had once belonged to his deceased wife. No, thank you.”
“It’s not as though she was still wearing them.”
Harriet smiled as she guided Annabelle towards the bridge. Caradoc followed. It was just wide enough for a wagon but not quite able to allow for two horses to cross side by side.
“It’s just a bit too disturbing for my liking,” she called back. “And I have enough on my mind to have to start worrying about haunted trousers.”
“Then sit astride. It’s not going to bother anyone out here.”
“It would bother me. I may have seen the wide world but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten everything I was taught about manners and propriety. So side-saddle it must be.”
Caradoc considered this for a long moment. “All right, tell you what. If, by the time we set out from Gadham, we haven’t found you proper riding attire, we’ll switch outfits. Except for my hat. I get to keep the hat.”
She laughed, louder and freer than he had yet heard. Their recent troubles and tragedies had been so grim that every expression of mirth was like a shower of sunlight breaking through a storm cloud. He saw how much good it did for her heart, and felt his own glow simply to hear it.
By the time the moon rose over the trees, they had gone another day without seeing a single building. The possibility of sleeping outdoors for the first time suddenly seemed very real. They had plenty of garments and blankets to wrap themselves in, but the nights were far colder than where they’d been even a few days ago. The meadow was also fast coming to an end. A dense forest stood a few miles ahead which likely ran all the way to the base of the mountain slopes. There would be no moonlight in there, and the ground would be damp due to low-lying fog from the sea and river. Bessie snorted and lurched to one side as a rabbit broke cover and darted across the path in front of them. Caradoc calmed her with a soothing voice and guided her back again.
“Look,” Harriet said.
Ahead, the path split into two branches. One ran directly in front of the forest to the northeast. The other continued straight into the trees but appeared to curve back towards the south, parallel to the river. At the junction was a post bearing a single sign pointing down the left-hand path. Harriet leaned forward to read it.
“Sparrowhaven. Two miles. Have you heard of it?”
“No,” Caradoc said. “Could be anything. Should we try for it?”
“I think we must. But carefully.”
The path took them steadily upward on a precipitous incline. It was almost too dark to see the road. The horses were surefooted, however, and that was reason enough to trust them to continue on. The dampness from the nearby sea made the air particularly chilly, and they each pulled an extra cloak from their packs to wrap around their shoulders.
Soon enough, the glow of lights could be seen ahead. After cresting another steep ridge, they saw they were now riding along a sheer cliffside which looked out on the Talas Sea. Another few minutes brought them to an open gate with the name SPARROWHAVEN posted above it. Voices sounded ahead. They stopped the horses just short of the lantern light.
The place appeared to be a small village. There were seven or eight small wooden houses clustered together on the overlook. Vine-covered rail fences and tall shrubs and hedges ensured a good deal of privacy between each one. In the center was a clearing with a number of low wooden benches set around a hearty campfire. A man and a woman sat on one of the benches, talking and staring into the fire with their arms around one another. Another couple sat on the porch of a nearby house, gazing out over the cliff towards the sea.
“Remind you of anywhere?” Caradoc asked.
Harriet nodded. “I know.”
She sounded just as unsettled as he felt. It was obviously no ordinary village. More a settlement—perhaps owned by a single family. Or gang. Still, there didn’t seem to be any immediate danger, nor too many people about. They would stay on horseback while making inquiries about the place, ready to ride off at the first sign of trouble.
Caradoc led the way, guiding Bessie towards the firepit in the clearing. The couple on the bench glanced their way and smiled but soon fell back into conversation with one another. They were obviously not afraid of strangers, nor bothered by them. That was a good sign at least.
“Excuse me,” he said to them. “Do you know of any lodging here?”
“Oh, so you’ve just arrived!” the woman said. “You’ll want to talk to Beatrice. Her office is in that cabin there. I’m sure there’s plenty of room to spare. We’ve only seen a few couples about since we got here.”
Caradoc frowned at the odd mention of couples—not people or families—but he thanked them and steered Bessie towards the cabin to which she had referred. They dismounted and tied off the reins at a post near the front porch.
Inside was the quaintest, most charming room they had ever seen. On the right was a desk with a large ledger—a perfectly normal feature of any inn or hotel—but the rest of the room was a sitting area. There were throw rugs and needlepoint cushions on rocking chairs. A small fire flickered in a red stone hearth, upon which sat a small collection of statues in the shapes of woodland creatures. Pictures on the walls showed mountains, lakes, and rivers. There were flower vases of every shape and color on every available level surface. It was like walking into a shop that sold nothing but quaint and charming home furnishings. Only someone lived here.
The door they entered through set off a small golden bell. At the sound of it, they heard movement from a room behind a door near the desk. The next moment, a woman appeared on the threshold, holding a porcelain teacup and beaming from ear to ear.
“Good evening! Oh, I was not expecting any more guests this season. How wonderful to be wrong! Come this way, my dears. We’ll get you settled in quick as we can. I’m sure you must be dreadfully tired from your journey.” She held the cup out to them. “Can I offer you some tea? I just made some for myself. There’s plenty to spare.”
“No, thank you. We’re fine,” Harriet said.
The woman smiled and hurried behind the desk. She set her teacup down and pulled the ledger towards her, humming to herself. Caradoc removed his hat and took the opportunity to study her while she scanned the contents of the ledger. This was not a gang or a bandit outfit, that much was certain. She was accustomed to having guests, so it was a legitimate inn, at least by all appearances. The woman herself had not the slightest aura of anything dangerous or frightening. He guessed her to be in her late fifties or early sixties. She had bright blue eyes and round cheeks that suggested a lifetime spent doing a great deal of smiling and laughing. Her gray hair was swept up into a loose bun and she wore a pair of round spectacles that seemed to magnify the cheerfulness in her face.
“Now let me see,” she said, tapping a finger against her lips. “Most of our cabins are available, I’m just trying to remember which ones have finished their renovations. We put brand new floors in each one. Fresh coats of paint, new furniture, brand new bathtubs. It will be like staying in a house newly built! How lucky for you!” She chuckled with glee, as if genuinely excited for them. “I must say, when I moved to the East Country to start up this honeymoon village, I never dreamt it would find so much success. I suppose being the only one of its kind in the area helps as well. Still, you can never really guess what will work here and what won’t.”
Caradoc raised an eyebrow and blinked a few times in disbelief. “H-honeymoon village?”
“Yes. Oh . . . did you not know?”
He shook his head. “We were just trying to find somewhere to stay for the night.”
“This was the first place we’ve come across all day,” Harriet finished.
She pushed her spectacles further up her nose. “Oh! Well, what a fortunate find! There’s not another place for miles and miles. You might have been sleeping in the trees if you’d not stumbled on my little world.” She laughed brightly. “And you are in for a rare treat, believe me. It’s a wonderful place to spend time, even if only for a few hours. I named it ‘Sparrowhaven’, you see, because I read somewhere once that sparrows mate for life. Or at least the varieties in the East Country do. Now, let me just find your key. They’re all a-jumble in this drawer. I keep meaning to organize them but I never do!” She laughed again, then crouched down behind the desk and rifled through a collection of metal keys.
Caradoc touched Harriet’s elbow and drew her a few steps away. “We can still tell her we’re brother and sister,” he said in a low voice. “She’ll believe us now that she knows our coming here was an honest mistake.”
“Here we are!” the woman said, straightening and holding up the key.
The same moment, a cat leapt up onto the counter and upset the teacup. It slipped over the side of the desk and fell to the floor with a crash.
“Ugh! Herbert! I have told you time and time again not to jump up here! Now look what you’ve done!”
She set the cat on the floor, then retrieved the teacup and set it back on the desk with a sigh. She turned the ledger around and pushed it towards them.
“There now. Cabin number three. It’s just here on the map. You’ll have a lovely view from the overlook. Only mind that you don’t stand too near the cliff’s edge. I’ve been meaning to get a fence built, but I’m afraid that will have to wait ‘til after the renovations. Go ahead and put your names down. Let me just step out the back for a moment and call for my stable master. He’ll see to it that your horses are well cared for.”
As soon as she disappeared through the door, Harriet laid a hand on Caradoc’s arm.
“Look. The teacup. It isn’t broken.”
She was right. There was no sign of any damage at all, not a single chip or crack. And they had heard it shatter very clearly. Caradoc stepped up to the desk and glanced behind it, thinking she had taken a new cup from a cupboard somewhere and that he would find the pieces of the broken one still on the floor. But there was nothing there. He glanced back at Harriet with a frown of apprehension. Neither of them had to say what they were thinking.
Their hostess was an Entrian. It was the only explanation. And it meant they couldn’t tell her they were brother and sister. In fact, they could claim no other relationship than their real one, as friends. But a man and woman who were friends, even very close friends, would not be permitted to share a room.
“I’ll ask for my own cabin,” he said.
“That would only look suspicious,” Harriet replied. “She’ll ask why two people who are only friends would be traveling all the way out here. She’d have no choice but to assume we’re up to no good.”
“We can say we were separated from our other friends and are making our way back to them.”
“Didn’t you see the paper in the last inn we found? The story on the front page cautioned everyone to be on the lookout for people who are claiming that very same circumstance.” She stood still for a moment, deep in thought, then moved to the ledger and picked up the pen. “I will write our names as Anne and Tom Rawlings. We don’t have to speak them aloud in front of her. We don’t have to say anything at all that might give us away. And if she asks for details, we can just be vague and ambiguous.” She glanced at Caradoc’s face, then pursed her mouth to keep from smiling. “You look as though you’re going to be sick. Is it really such a terrible thing to have to pretend?”
“No, it’s not terrible at all, it’s just . . . I don’t want to have to lie about that. I don’t want to . . . give offense to you or to Martin.”
“It does not offend me,” she replied, the tone of her voice like one trying to calm a skittish horse. “Nor would it Martin. He would understand the necessity. Besides, Delia told me to keep an eye on you. What better way to tighten the reins than this?”
He smirked just as the woman breezed back through the door with two cups of tea on two dainty saucers. She set them down on the counter in front of them.
“Right! Everything is taken care of, Mr. and Mrs. . .” She pulled the ledger closer and peered down at it. “Rawlings. Your horses will be treated like family. Don’t worry a snit about them. Here is your key. Oh, what a shame you’ll only be with us for one night. But perhaps the room and the view will convince you to stay a little longer. You’re certainly welcome to change your mind if you should fancy to. My name is Beatrice Babbin. You mustn’t be afraid to call upon me for anything at any hour. I am at your service. And I know you said you didn’t want any tea, but I poured you some anyway. Here, my dears. Take them to your cabin. And we shall see you at Introductions later tonight!”
Chapter 27
Keeping Up Appearances
Though night had already fallen, it was only seven o’clock. It would be hours before either of them felt like turning in for bed. Once they were properly settled in their cabin, Caradoc went out to the back porch and continued his work on Harriet’s new cane. The view of the sea in the moonlight was every bit as wonderful as Beatrice had claimed. The cold, dry air also made the stars gloriously bright, and he was sure he had never seen more of them filling the sky from anywhere else he’d traveled, save for the open sea.
He ought to have been a nervous wreck, considering their situation. But the peaceful beauty surrounding him and the calming work with the blushing birch steadied something deep inside him. At present, the former tree branch looked more like a bludgeon than a cane, but as the rose-colored wood shavings fell and the bits of knotted bark piled around the base of his chair, it began to take shape.
Time passed. An owl called in the distance. A breeze ruffled the snow-topped trees. Combined with the rhythmic shick-shick of the knife strokes, he might have fallen asleep. He paused for a moment and examined the edge of the blade. It was good quality, no sign of any nicks or chinks. He turned it over to inspect the other side, holding it against his gloved palm as he did so. A sudden and unexpected flare of pain cut to his heart.
The last time he’d held a knife to his hand, he’d intended to carve the Auric Key out of his flesh—so frustrated had he been by his failure, his grief, and the unbearable weight of responsibility. But Abner had stopped him. There’d been no lecture, no berating or shaming. Only understanding. Caradoc sat back in his chair with a quiet sigh. He hoped his friend was at peace. And that Evering would not despair.
A sliver of light shot across the floor and widened. Harriet stepped through the back door and went to stand at the edge of the porch, tugging a shawl around her shoulders.
“Annabelle and Bessie are in paradise,” she said. “That stable master was doting on them like they were his own children. They’ll be spoiled rotten by the time we leave.”
“You wouldn’t have it any other way,” Caradoc said.
“No, I would not. I also found out about this Introductions business. It’s a weekly gathering around the campfire. All the couples meet to have a drink, tell stories, and generally get to know one another. Of course, we’ve arrived on just the night for it.”
“Of course.”
“And I think we must attend. Or risk drawing suspicion.”
“I’m game if you are. So long as there’s no dancing. Oh, and there’s no hidden levers this time. I checked. But there is a perfectly good sofa in the front room which I’ll be taking.”
“No, you will not.”
“No, no. Let me save you some time, all right? Because I’ve already had this argument in my head, and I won. See, if I let you have your way, all I would have to do is wait until you fall asleep, then pick you up from the sofa and drop you into the bed.”
“I see,” she replied with a wry smile. “So you have no interest in playing fair, then?”
“None whatsoever,” he said, and returned to his whittling.
She leaned against one of the pillars and watched him. Someone laughed in the distance. A night gull soared out over the cliff like a fleeting shred of moonlight. The dew from the freezing fog had begun to crystallize on the leaves and lawn.
“Why is it you don’t dance?”
He glanced up, surprised by the question.
She tilted her head. “I know you can be reserved. Quite guarded at times. But dancing is the only thing you actually seem to be . . . shy about.”
