Down the Well, page 7
Her hands trembled as she hugged herself. Lore moved away from the building, her stomach jumping in panic. She looked at the red and brown bricks of the building as if the answer to all her problems was written in some sort of invisible ink. Invisible ink. Nonsense.
But then, what was sensible anymore? She put her hands behind her back as she slowly backed up, wanting to find something to lean on. When her hand rested on the cool metal lid, she adjusted her weight a bit and took a deep breath in. Getting back home certainly won’t be easy. She stretched out her neck, racking her brain for any sort of ideas. I guess the first step would be to go back through that cursed well.
Then she felt a warm, slender touch fall across her hand.
Lore adjusted her vision to the window she had just been peeking in. The reflection came to focus, revealing a toddler-sized mouse in a bright red jacket, looking at her a bit too intently atop trash cans.
Being the fan of horror movies that she was, Lore was a bit too familiar with the scenario of a young girl in the alleyway. But she wasn’t expecting a mouse to be the killer. Still, Lore let out a shriek. The last thing she heard was the swooshing of the makeshift club the mouse used to hit her over the head.
TEN
Lore was awake but still paralyzed. She heard a door fly open over the familiar jazz music of FELICITY’S PUB & ENTERTAINMENT.
“Mathilde,” a deep voice groaned, rattling Lore to the bone. “How did I know you were the root of this mischief?” A moment of silence passed before the bellowing voice spoke again, this time a bit more hastily. “Go on, explain yourself.”
Lore couldn’t paint a picture of the owner of the voice, but it seemed familiar.
“I was exploring,” replied a female voice that sounded like an innocent child. Lore could only assume to be the mouse who assaulted her and pictured the tiny mouse crossing her arms.
“Exploring?” the other voice questioned. “More like snooping in on CHS affairs, little lady. I thought I told you to stay home.”
“Yes, maybe I was, but if I weren’t snooping around, the human I found stalking about would have caused a panic.” Lore felt the mouse’s tiny furry hands tugging at her sleeve, but she couldn’t muster the strength to shake the mouse off, let alone get up.
The cobblestone felt like it was shaking from the footsteps of the stranger. Lore couldn’t move. She winced as a large stranger knelt beside her and, with what felt like a long dull knife, turned her face toward him.
Lore began doing another back-and-forth dance with unconsciousness. Her vision was still blurred and all she could see were shapes and shadows. She guessed she was staring straight down a snout of an alligator.
“Mathilde, do you know what this means?”
She listened to the conversation unfolding as the large animal lifted her into the air.
“Yeah, Gannon. it means humans aren’t extinct like we originally thought.” The mouse—Mathilde—sounded very excited. “Are we going to tell the Society?”
“Do you know who this is?” the alligator—Gannon—asked in a soft rush, ignoring the mouse’s question.
“Uh…” Lore could picture Mathilde scratching her chin. “A lady kind of human?” The mouse didn’t sound very certain. “But I don’t wanna assume,” she added.
The gator grumbled something Lore couldn’t quite make out.
“Well, I haven’t gotten that far yet,” Mathilde admitted, voice lifting in defensiveness. “I was going to take it back to the house, bandage it up, and then show you when you got back.”
The alligator let out a deep groan. “Bandages won’t heal this up. We’ll need to be careful.” Silence settled for a moment more before the large alligator added, “We’ll have to send a carrier crow. It shouldn’t take that long.”
Crows? Normal crows? Un-humanlike crows?
The sudden shifting of the alligator’s weight made her head jerk hard to the left. Creaking wood filled Lore’s ears as she lay slumped over the alligator’s back.
“But Mathilde—”
“Yes?” the mouse’s voice sounded like a wounded animal. Most likely, though, the only thing hurt was the mouse’s pride.
“No matter what, you can’t let anything else happen to this human once she’s well again. No matter what anyone tells you.” He spoke quickly in a near whisper.
A door opened and closed behind them.
Lore bounced against the cotton cushions of what she guessed was a couch.
“Go fetch CC and bring me some paper and my quill,” the deep voice ordered. “Quickly, now.”
The pitter-patter of small footsteps echoed on the floor.
“So when will we tell the Society?” Mathilde asked again.
“We won’t be telling them anything.” The alligator’s voice was stern. “But I will let the other elders know. This is vital to the work I set out to do.”
“Yes, and I think it’s important I be there, too.” The mouse’s voice had a certain sharpness to it, but more like the sharpness of a needle than a sword. A small annoyance rather than a threat.
“Mathilde, my dear, bring CC here, please. This can’t wait.”
Lore could hear the frantic scribbles on paper.
“Alright,” the deep voice started again, “now this shouldn’t be a long wait, but I am tasking you to look after this human. They certainly aren’t from here and will need guidance.”
“But—”
The alligator cut off the mouse. “No buts.”
The sound of a window being slid open scratched against Lore’s ears.
“You expect me to babysit?” the mouse protested. “I’m not a babysitter—I’m an explorer.” She huffed, trying desperately to find a better term. “I’m an adventurer.”
Lore could hear Gannon’s words, spoken with the warmth of a smile. “Sometimes, my girl, the biggest adventure you can take is getting to know someone else.”
She could image the mouse’s large round ears drooping.
That’s okay. I don’t know how I feel about the mouse being my lifeline to this place, anyway. So, I s’pose we’re both out of luck.
* * *
The door opened again, and a musky smell tickled Lore’s nose.
“Oh, Gannon! A human? But how?” a raspy voice asked, reminding her of any man who had picked up a pack of cigarettes at the young age of ten.
“Can you help or not?” The alligator’s deep voice was suddenly void of patience.
“Of course I can.” A cackle filled the air. “After you take the human to a bed, I’ll need you to fetch a few things from Sable’s for me,” the mysterious voice purred.
Lore started fading in and out again, and soon the words became jumbled. The two words regularly floating around her ears were “important,” and “secret.” She didn’t know how to feel about that, but that didn’t matter because the next thing she knew, she was floating in a sea of darkness.
While she swam through this dark pit of nothing, soon she saw giant pieces of beautiful silver necklace chains, gaudy rings, and gold bracelets with intricate carvings on them. Then they smacked together. The clanging metal made her wince and grab her ears.
Then she began coughing as green smoke swirled around her, swallowing her up like she was on the menu for some monster’s dinner. Lore suddenly wished for the loud and tacky jewelry instead of the smog that made her wheeze.
As if on cue, she saw something familiar in the distance. The blue brick wishing well.
She flapped her arms against the nothingness surrounding her and, through sheer desperation, gripped the side of the well. Lore looked behind her and saw the green mist still had a grip on her ankle, like a snake’s tail coiled around its prey. She kicked and pulled against it, but nothing worked. She twisted enough with it still holding her to peek down the well.
What followed was a blinding, bright light.
Then she saw nothing. Felt nothing. Is this where I die?
ELEVEN
Lore shot up from a sweat-drenched pillow, hair clinging to the back of her neck. She blindly felt around, still wiping the sleep from her eyes. Where is it? She pulled the blanket up and rolled herself tightly in it. Then she took in a deep breath ready to be lulled back to sleep.
The comforter cocoon smelled like spiced orange peels steeped in honey. Not the usual second-hand smoke and burnt breakfast scent she was familiar with first thing in the morning. She threw the cover off of her like it was a boa wrapping itself around her moments ago.
Wait a minute.
Her eyes fluttered open again.
But wasn’t it all just a dream?
The tea-stained colored walls had vined flowers sprawling across them that twisted and wove over each other, directing Lore’s heavy eyes to the window on the wall to her left, where sunlight glowed behind the thick curtain. The rich coffee fabric spilt against the wall and pooled at the bottom along the dull wooden floor. An intricate light green braided design gathered the curtain up in the center, that allowed just enough sunlight in to make the wallpaper come to life.
The blush blossoms on the walls started to twitch and blossom open. Lore’s jaw relaxed. Lore’s mind race, and the only cohesive thought she had was, A lovely shade of green. She slid from the bed and silently went to the curtains. She ran a hand along the warm metal. The shade of green slightly changed hue depending on where the light struck it.
She heard some mumbling through the boards. Naturally, she bent down with an ear to the floor, her fingertips tracing along the ground. The scratches and notches in the floor varied from deep and old to light and probably sanded away by hand.
Then a familiar voice traveled up towards her like heat rising. “He was fine when I saw him last.”
Her heart thumped hard against her ribs. Begging to be free from its skeletal prison. No mistaking it. Lore’s thoughts drifted back to the haunting reflection in the glass pane before she felt the blunt end of the heavy club. That voice belonged to the mouse in the bright red jacket.
She rose to her feet and looked back at the bed. It sat on rather plain wooden bones. But the bluish green photo frame on the nightstand was very ornate with soft curves and pointed edges.
Lore shuffled along the floor and saw it was a family portrait that included an alligator the size of an oak tree, wearing a rather well tailored suit. Her mind replayed the fuzzy figures of the night prior. She could finally pair the deep bone rattling voice to a face. The alligator’s painted smile beamed with pride, and five mice all piled in front of him, each one wearing a big cheesy smile, all aside from one. Mathilde grinned with a spark alive in her large almond-shaped eyes. It was rather unsettling. Who knows what that stick-swinging lunatic was scheming?
Lore’s brow furrowed as she crossed her arms. This is not the dream I wanna be stuck in.
Without warning, the bedroom door flew open as if a strong gale of wind had blown through the house, up the stairs, just to frighten Lore. As quickly as it had opened, she saw the mouse from the night before slip in and shut the door so hard it made Lore jump. Then, it sounded like a stampede was heading up the creaking steps.
The mouse stood with her back to the door, digging her heels in as it violently rattled. Even the gray painted trim trembled. The animal jerked her head and locked eyes with Lore. “Oh!” she gasped, her petite body jolted with each shake of the wood door. “You’re awake!” The creature sounded a bit bewildered by the discovery.
Lore tilted her head, not sure what to make of this. What to make of her attacker—and host.
“What is it you are hiding in there, Mathilde?” A splintery voice demanded from the other side of the door.
“So, how did you sleep?” the mouse asked Lore as if they were meeting for a casual catch-up chat over brunch.
Lore flatted her lips and knit her brow. Good, I guess. But do I really give that away or tell her everything about this place is terrible, and I wanna leave right away?
The loud thuds against the door kept pulling Lore away from her thoughts. She gestured to the door. “Who are they?” she mouthed.
The little gray mouse’s eyes were wide as she quickly locked the door behind her. Then she skipped to Lore’s side, her jaw practically dragging along the floor in amazement. “You do understand!” She lifted Lore’s arm and further inspected.
Lore swatted her away immediately. “Stop it, I’m not some animal at a fair,” she grumbled.
“And you do speak rather well!” Mathilde mused, leaping on the bed, so she was almost eye level with Lore.
“And no, you wouldn’t be an animal at a fair,” she agreed, then again locked eyes with Lore as she rubbed her fuzzy chin. “C’mon, have you seen a raccoon ravage the fried chicken stand at any fair or festival?” Her eyes fluttered over Lore from top to bottom. “You look a little underfed to be the part,” she admitted casually as she plopped down, the mattress subtly bouncing her.
Lore crossed her arms, the feeling of embarrassment gnawing in her gut. “You’re such a rude little thing, aren’t you?” she snapped.
The pounding on the door continued,
“Open this door, Mathilde!”
“I hope she’s hiding Father in there,” a voice whined.
“I hope it’s Father with a castle of waffles!” another proclaimed.
Lore looked at the brittle wood door. “Who are they?”
Mathilde twiddled her boney little fingers. “No one.”
“Well, ‘no one’ seems to enjoy talking,” Lore chided.
Mathilde pinched the scruffy fur between her eyes and paced over to the door. With her hands firmly on her hips, she called over the ruckus. “That’s the problem with you lot!” Her voice was sharp. “You wouldn’t know a grand discovery if it hit you upside the face!”
Harsh words.
“I’ve found it!” another unfamiliar voice cheered.
The tops of Mathilde’s large round ears curled as if she had found herself in a trap, her eyes filled with sudden worry. “Brace yourself,” she said, scampering over to stand between Lore and the owners of the voices. “They’re savages, I tell you!”
The lock clicked and the door burst open. Lore didn’t know how much more the poor old wooden planks of the door could take.
Three mice piled inside, shoving each other, all trying to lead the charge.
Then, from the doorway, a fourth mouse walked in. This one was taller than the rest and the flowing yellow fabric of her dress popped against long, fluffy coal fur. Her smaller, rounded ears were flat like an annoyed cat’s. All that mouse had to do was clear her throat, and the three others moved to the side and out of her way rather quickly.
They looked down at their feet and twiddled their fingers, avoiding any sort of eye contact.
Silver eyes that were sharp like daggers drilled into Lore.
A fuzzy memory centered itself in her thoughts. She was fighting with a figure over a well… but the memory was just out of reach that her fingertips could barely graze against it.
“And just exactly how did you smuggle a human into Charmsend?” The question was directed down towards Mathilde, who was now standing to make herself as big as possible.
Her large ears pricked upright, but Lore could see the way her tail quivered. “I discovered this human,” the red-clad mouse snapped.
The coal-colored one leaned down so the tips of their noses barely touched. “You can’t discover something that’s been extinct.”
Extinct? Lore felt like shrinking into a corner.
A silvery blue mouse scampered to Lore’s side and poked her with a boney finger right in the ribs. “It doesn’t feel extinct.”
“Hey! Stop that!” Mathilde insisted, swatting the furry hand away.
“This human have anything to do with our missing father?” The coal-colored mouse’s voice was frigid.
“No, Minifred.” Mathilde was quick to answer, her voice unwavering, and the tension growing to the size of an elephant.
Another silver mouse came to stand beside its pair. Lore’s eyes lingered on two mice. She hugged herself, hoping it’d deter any more poking and prodding.
The second mouse rubbed its chin and knelt down, looking at Lore’s knobby knees and eyes, watching carefully, then pulled away.
Lore cornered herself between the bed, the nightstand, and Mathilde. She was, unfortunately, trapped. The feeling stirred in her stomach like a swirling wind, making the dry fall leaves rise and fall during autumn.
The mouse, clearly ignoring the social cues, walked over and stuck its finger against Lore’s rump.
“Hey!” Lore chided. The adrenaline rushed through her, tickling her fingertips. “The fuck is wrong with you? You can’t just do that!”
The mouse turned to its pair. “Nope! It definitely feels extinct,” it said matter-of-factly.
Mathilde whirled around and shooed the two silver mice away. “It’s not extinct because that means it’d have to be dead, and it’s very much alive. Now leave the human be.”
The two silver mice whispered back and forth to each other.
Wait a minute. Where did the cinnamon-colored one go?
Lore scanned the room and her eyes landed on the cinnamon-furred mouse huddled by the window. With the curtain resting against her back.
“Something’s happening in the square,” she said with a squeak. “The whole town is down there, I think.”
Minifred’s nose twitched. She huffed. “Oh, what could it be now?” She shot over to peer out the window herself. Then she muttered something Lore couldn’t quite make out.
The twin silver mice scurried over, practically trying to climb overtop of the largest mouse to get a look.
“Mildred is right,” Minifred announced. She went to stand by the door, her arms crossing. “It looks like a large gathering. More so than the standard market hour, so we should go see what it’s about. Maybe we can get a lead on where Father wandered off to.” Her voice tapered off towards the end. Lore could hear the exhaustion in the mouse’s voice.
Maybe she actually isn’t a hard ass.
