Chapter Seventeen
Hyacinth
“So, I was murdered?” Hyacinth murmured after a long time of no sound.
The tearoom was a long, skinny room with two couches, a piano, a large window covered in ivy, and a coffee table full of forgotten tea.
It existed out of time, for it wasn’t the foyer that was full of noise from the storm beating against the house.
Nor was it the kitchen that was always full of wonderful sounds of cooking or laughter.
And it certainly wasn’t the library with a subtle but steady crackling fireplace.
The tearoom was a liminal space that existed in its own realm and made the weight of Sebastian’s words sink into her shoulders like cold dead hands.
“Well, not you-you…but yes.” Austin folded his hands, what was left of them, into his lap as he spoke.
Hyacinth tried not to focus on the bones or the gummy flesh.
But her mind kept darting back to it. He’s hurt.
Blink. Look away. He’s hurt because of me.
Blink. Look at the fabric of the shirt. He’s hurt himself and it’s my fault. Stop. Looking. At. It.
“And that man, the one outside, was my murderer?” She tugged at the hem of the shirt, still the only piece of clothing on her body since the stabbing incident.
“One of them,” Sebastian corrected.
“One of them,” she parroted barely above a whisper.
“I popped one of them, like a grape—kind of—you know it’s not that important, the important part is he was here for you.
” Austin shifted in his seat. It occurred to her that both of them were uncomfortable but she could do nothing about it.
They clearly waited for her to speak, but it was like she was stuck in time.
The man outside was here to kill me. Again.
Blink. Austin is hurt. Blink. I was murdered.
Hyacinth peeked up from where she wrung out the cotton between her fingers to where Austin stiffened on the couch across from her.
They are both so uncomfortable. She honestly wanted to scream.
Just stand up, face the front window and scream.
Let it vibrate through her and shake the ivy lose.
Maybe even send the storm cloud spinning over the forcefield of the manor back to once it came.
No, not screaming time. There was a petulant part of her that wanted to complain it was never screaming time. Yet, the part of her that felt reasonable and sensible was in full control. Blink…blink…blink. It felt like all she could do was breathe in, then out, then blink, and repeat.
“Hyacinth?” Sebastian broke her concentration and she glanced at him. Tears blurred her vision and Austin was gone from the other couch. She felt him drop down onto the cushion next to her but didn’t touch her. Not as she strangled a fist full of linen in her lap and stared at Sebastian.
“I should be grateful, I suppose,” she spoke through cracked lips as a tear trickled down her cheek. Finally, the part her brain was stuck processing, came out. “I would not be here if she did not die. But do you think that’s why she haunts me? She is upset she was murdered.”
Sebastian’s face contorted. “Haunts you? Hyacinth, you have not mentioned being haunted.” Sebastian shifted to lean over his lap. Folding his gloved hands, his dark, stormy eyes roamed her face. “What do you mean by that?”
“I saw this woman in the mirror and your crystal ball. She’s broken and angry and constantly trying to catch me.
I feel her lurking in the shadows, following me wherever I go.
She must be so angry!” Her voice wavered from high to low as she continued, the tears spilling one right after the other.
Hyacinth glanced toward the window, where the shadows collected, expecting to see the broken woman there.
To her relief, they were alone in that liminal space.
Nothing but the bitter, cold tea and the ivy that shifted under her stare.
The next words tumbled out of her lips, simply a thought that escaped, “And he wants to kill me too?”
Sebastian tutted, waving off the melancholy statement. “We’ll take care of him. I want you to talk more about—”
“Sebastian! Rosemont!” An explosive roar echoed off all the walls and shattered the surreal, liminal feeling of the room. Suddenly she could hear the storm and the windows rattled from the wind.
“Oh dear,” her maker sighed, sitting up straight.
“You’ve done it now, sir,” Austin shivered, lowering his voice. “She sounds mad.”
“Irate, for sure. She does not like being shushed, much less banished to her library without her consent. My boy, see to it you replace that hand.” Sebastian rose to his feet just in time to catch the hands of one Dahlia Rosemont.
She rounded the doorway, floating on a cloud of black smoke that swirled around her like tentacles.
Three yellow eyes graced her face, and her teeth were sharpened like fangs.
“You cruel mother fucker, how dare you banish me like that! I ought to wring your scrawny neck!” Her words were snarled with venom Hyacinth had never heard from Dahlia before, it honestly shocked her. Hyacinth flinched backward into the couch.
“Now, now, my love, I’ve fucked no mothers,” Sebastian chuckled moments before she drove a kitchen knife into the meat of his shoulder. Hyacinth’s maker wheezed, “Dahlia, really? This is most dramatic. Even for you.”
“I told you I’d stab you the next time you did that to me.
Well, guess what! It’s next time—Oh! Hyacinth, sweetie,” Dahlia’s three yellow eyes blinked and they returned to just a pair of slate gray ones that twinkled kindly.
“Would you mind giving us a moment? I’ve got some things to discuss with Sebastian. ”
Austin nudged her but there was no need, she didn’t want to watch whatever was about to unfold in the tearoom anyway.
She bound to her feet and scurried out the door without another word.
Followed shortly by Austin then a hard slam.
Austin, however, didn’t let her dawdle by it, instead, taking up her arm and whisking her toward the lab.
“Want to learn how to reattach a hand?” He flashed her an awkward smile
“Not particularly.” She grimaced.
Austin nodded, visibly thinking hard for a moment, then offered her another smile. “Well, want to keep me company?”
“Always.” She brightened as she slipped her hand down the inside of his arm to tangle her fingers in his.
The good one, not the melted one. He stumbled a step, glancing at her once then continuing toward the lab with a smile on his lips.
They were met by the door by a thumping bunny.
Hyacinth sighed with relief, “Snuffles! There you are. I wondered where you scampered off to.”
“Havershum thinks Snuffles killed a ghoul earlier,” Austin confessed with a snort. He detangled their hands only to open the door with his bad hand and motion for her to head down with the other.
“What!” She gasped, scooping up the rabbit. “He’s just a bunny.”
“That’s what I said.” Austin’s shoulders trembled with laughter they shared, descending the steps into the dark.
As she reached the third step, candles deep within the laboratory hissed to life.
Their dancing glow climbed up the stairwell, making shadows like slithering snakes on the creaky wood.
Hyacinth, for a moment, imagined them to be the woman’s hands.
Then she took a step and the distinct feeling of someone’s fingers around her ankles made her yelp.
The hands let go as if startled, or were never real to begin with, and Hyacinth raced down the steps.
With each movement, she felt fingers tickle the back of her heels till she pressed her back to the far wall and looked up at Austin.
He was crouched uncomfortably, looking around the stairs to no avail. “What happened?”
“I felt something grab me,” she whispered. No, I felt her grab me. But telling Austin that would cause him to worry over her again. And he needed a new hand.
Realizing that the person, the woman from the mirror, was murdered, it made so much sense.
She’s angry. Hyacinth understood that. And if I understand that, so does she.
She just needed a chance to talk to her.
If she could only summon her on command into a mirror, she was confident she could get the woman to see reason.
I mean, we literally share a brain, you have to understand.
Austin hummed, taking the stairs slow so he could inspect around them.
“Oh, well, it’s gone now if it was a ghoul or a ghost. Sorry about that.
They tend to steer clear of the lab but not all of them are beyond pranking.
There’s a ghost in the library that likes to press their massive eye to the shelf behind books while you’re looking for something.
The second you pull a book, bam!” Austin trotted down the last few stairs, slapping his thigh with his good hand for added effect. “Eyeball.”
“Aren’t pranks meant to be funny?” She squinted at him..
“One would think, yeah,” he chortled, rounding the end of the stairs.
Hyacinth stared at the stairs, letting Snuffles down to the floor as she refused to give the haunted steps her back. In the shadows she saw them again, fingers that reached out to her. They curled slowly before dragging broken fingernails across the top of the step.
“Hyacinth?” Austin’s voice urged her on, forcing her to tiptoe away until she stood on the opposite side of one of the medical slabs as him.
She pulled up a stool and sat down. Snuffles explored the floor, the wisps of light that flickered on slowly following him.
Bobbing up and down, the little orbs made the lab more vibrant and less prone to shadows.
Yet, her gaze continued to search each one, just in case, for the woman.
Same as when she was in the tea room, her mind couldn’t let it go. She was fixated on it.
I know if I can just get to talk to you, we can fix this.
Then a hand flopped down against the slab, and she remembered what they were doing. Ah, yes…the hand. Austin sat down on a stool and wheeled it closer to the slab before he picked the new appendage back up for inspection.
“Like it?” Austin rotated a meaty hand of dark green skin—cut off cleanly at the wrist—in the good light.
After a few twists and turns, appreciating or prodding it, he set it down on the metal table and went to work.
Austin picked the knot of thread at his wrist with a small tool.
In seconds, the thread gave way and his hand flopped loosely against the table.
Austin carefully unthreaded the loops till his arm ended at the wrist.
“How many times have you replaced your hands?” Hyacinth cocked her head to the side.
“Ehh, three? Four times?” Austin shrugged as he slid the other hand toward his exposed wrist. “Mind…giving me a hand?”
Hyacinth faux scowled at him, “Was that sarcasm?”
“No,” Austin snickered, “a pun.”
“Mmm, I liked it,” she teased as she scampered to his side of the table.
Holding his new hand to his arm, she watched him thread a massive needle with his other hand and teeth.
The thick, ashy-black cord was tightly woven and slid through the skin smoothly.
She saw it light up in little runes along its fibers with each stitch.
Hyacinth leaned in close till Austin whispered her name.
She peeked up at him, he nodded at his wrist, and she realized he was shifting, so she turned the hand with him. “You’re very good at this.”
“I’ve had to replace a few parts,” he sighed.
“Why do you sound sad when you say that?” She furrowed her brows. Austin shrugged lightly, focused solely on the stitching. “Austin?”
“I feel like a burden sometimes,” the soft-spoken giant confessed finally.
“Why would you think that?” She let him take his hand from her, finishing up the stitch on his wrist. Hyacinth stepped closer, studying his face from the side.
“I was made to protect them…and I’ve done nothing but endanger them.” He winced.
She searched his sad expression, unable to stop herself from the next question.
You see yourself as a burden? As something going against your design?
It didn’t make sense why he felt like a burden when he’d been nothing but endlessly helpful to her.
“Is that why you didn’t want me to see you at first?
You were worried about being some sort of burden? ”
“What?” He blinked rapidly. “No.”
“Then what’s changed?” She stepped back from him to lean against the side of the metal table she was laying on earlier.
The table where he saved her lungs, where he and Sebastian created her, where he made her teddy bear.
He was so baffling to her because…why would he ever hide himself from her?
She might be the only other person in the house who knew what it felt like, and he?
What? Didn’t want her to see him? Why? “Austin, what’s changed? ”