Chapter 11
Mercury sat in the fireside chair in his room late into the night.
He had too much on his mind to sleep. He had an Invisible attachment.
Such a thing was ruinous if discovered, though he hadn’t any real concerns on that front.
Even he couldn’t see the Reluctant Recluse.
And no one knew how many ghosts he had, so that number being increased by one would never mean anything to anyone else.
And the possibility of scandal didn’t bother him.
Having an attachment he didn’t know about, couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, and, thus, had been essentially ignoring for the more than thirty years of his life . . . that bothered him.
All these years, I didn’t have twenty attachments. I had twenty-one.
He’d prided himself on being thoughtful toward his ghosts, of creating a home for all of them, as well as for himself, that was peaceful and welcoming and safe. And through it all, the Reluctant Recluse had been deeply isolated and lonely.
Mercury knew all too well how that felt. He wrapped his hand around his iron key. Oh, yes. He knew all too well.
He glanced around the room. It looked empty, but he knew he could no longer trust that. “We’ll find a means of communicating. I don’t want you to be so alone.”
He had no idea if his Invisible was even in the room. Lud, he hoped they sorted out a way to interact, if nothing else so Mercury didn’t spend the rest of his life talking to empty rooms.
Mercury stood, stretching against the tension in his neck and shoulders.
He was not one to grow easily agitated. Even in the incredibly perilous days and weeks of his escape from the orphanage, he’d been calm and focused.
And during the extremely dangerous years that had followed, he’d not crumbled.
He was struggling to recognize himself lately.
He’d paced his room for likely no more than a couple of minutes when the Cream Canary passed through a wall. Her expression was inarguably worried, which was odd for her. She was as steady as he used to be.
“Granny Grey was snatched away.”
“Snatched? No one can grab hold of a ghost.”
“She was talking with me, then suddenly she flew out of the room. Backward. Pulled.”
Mercury crossed closer to her. “Did she seem to be moving not of her own accord?”
The Cream Canary nodded. “And she looked confused and worried.”
What could cause a ghost to be “snatched away” against their will? If the person they were attached to moved more than five hundred feet away from where the ghost was, that would force them to move.
Had Tacey moved to the far side of Larissa Lodge? Perhaps she was walking around the garden on the other side of her home. When Mercury visited her there, his ghosts sometimes had to shift where they were in the house.
“We should go talk with Tacey.”
The Cream Canary nodded, but she didn’t look reassured. They walked together down the stairs. Zizzy crossed his path on the ground floor.
“I missed Tacey tonight,” Zizzy said. “I wish she had come for dinner.”
“We’re aiming for Larissa Lodge,” Mercury said. “Come with us if you’d like.”
Zizzy seemed pleased as they crossed the side lawn. Being with Tacey always raised her spirits. Even anticipating being with Tacey managed it. Mercury could understand that. He felt precisely the same way.
“Testy Tolver said the Vanns want you to go to London,” Zizzy said.
“They do, but I’m not planning to go.”
Zizzy gave a firm nod. “Especially with them.”
“Everyone at Aventine Manor seems to feel the same way about our temporary guests,” Mercury said. “That solidifies my decision to keep a firm distance from them.”
“A wise decision,” the Cream Canary said.
For the first time in days, Mercury found himself on firmer footing once more.
But it didn’t last.
The front door of Larissa Lodge was open when they reached it. A decidedly odd thing in the dark of night.
Mercury slipped inside the dark house. “Tacey?”
There was no answer.
“Granny Grey?” the Cream Canary called out.
Still no answer.
Mercury moved carefully through the dark entryway, unnerved by how quiet the house was. It was something different than the tranquility of a sleeping household. Something . . . worse.
“Tacey?”
Silence.
Mercury turned to the ghosts that were with him. He could barely see them in the small spill of moonlight coming in through windows and the open door. “Split up and search for Tacey and Granny Grey.”
Zizzy hurried through the ceiling to the floor above.
The Cream Canary, however, remained. “They are not here. I am certain of it.”
Mercury was worrying about the same possibility. “What has led you to this conclusion?”
“An open door. A quiet house. And Granny Grey’s absence. Tacey might have been asleep and simply not yet awake enough to greet you. But Granny Grey would have already.”
Mercury moved toward the also-open door to the sitting room where he’d so often sat with Tacey. Moonlight hazily illuminated the room, just enough light for Mercury to find and light a lamp.
He could see the room better. Nothing was out of place or out of the ordinary. Somehow, that wasn’t comforting. What is happening here?
From above his head, Zizzy’s panicked voice shouted, “Mercury! Mercury!”
He ran, lantern in hand, from the sitting room and up the stairs. The Cream Canary reached Zizzy before Mercury did. Enough bits and baubles sat on the tallboy and dressing table in the bedchamber where he found them to tell him this was Tacey’s room.
The bed was in disarray. The chair at the dressing table was toppled. A painting, its frame broken, lay fractured on the floor. The curtains in one window were torn and barely clinging to the curtain rod.
“What happened?” the Cream Canary whispered, sounding as unnerved as Mercury felt.
Something moved just out of the spill of light from his lantern. Mercury turned and stepped closer. The light illuminated something white on the ground. He lowered himself a little.
Feathers.
There was no draft, no breeze, but the feathers moved. They wafted up. On their own. The length of a breath passed. Then they moved again. Again, on their own.
The Reluctant Recluse.
Mercury took up one of the feathers. White and downy. He’d seen these feathers before, he knew he had.
An instant later, he knew where. “Mrs. Vann’s fan.”
What had she been doing here? Where was Tacey?
“Mercury.” The Cream Canary’s whispering of his name shook worryingly.
He stood and turned to her. She was bent over the bed, looking with concern at something. Zizzy hovered nearby, with much the same expression.
Heart pounding, Mercury moved to where they stood. On the bed was a note, with four words written in a steady hand.
To London, Mr. Raine.
“They’ve taken her,” the Cream Canary said. “They’ve taken Tacey to force you to Town.”
Good heavens.
“The Violet Giant told me they weren’t to be trusted or underestimated,” Mercury said. “But kidnapping? Hostage taking? I’d not thought—”
Zizzy’s expression crumbled. “Are they going to hurt her? Oh, please, tell me they aren’t going to hurt her.”
He wanted to promise that they wouldn’t. He wanted to believe they wouldn’t. But there was no way to be sure.
The Violet Giant warned him not to let the Vanns convince him to go to London.
Town was dangerous for Mercury even without the Vanns making it so.
There was a much higher chance of someone recognizing him as the orphan he’d once been.
There was a much higher chance of him being caught, charged, and convicted.
But the Vanns had Tacey. And they were dangerous.
“What are we going to do?” Zizzy asked, tears clogging her voice.
Mercury took a deep breath and firmed his posture. “We’re going to London, and we’re getting her back.”