Chapter 14
I had no idea what was happening to me, but something had changed. The wind stopped blowing. I no longer heard Hoffmann snooping around. Complete silence.
Nearly complete…
All I could feel, all I could hear, was the rhythmic beating of Nin’s heart.
It pounded fiercely against the base of my neck—so very close—but at the same time, it felt worlds away.
He felt worlds away. No, that wasn’t right either.
He felt… vast. As if he were made of entire galaxies, and I could never, not as long as I lived, know all of him.
And though I could now smell dried blood, other scents enveloped me. Wet wool. Metal. Male sweat. The dank scent of the basement.
And… oranges?
Odd, that scent on him. It was so sweet, so bright, when he was so very dark.
I inhaled deeply and released a shaky breath. Then I dared to sink back into his wool coat, and he pulled me closer. I didn’t fight it, didn’t even try. Didn’t want to.
His head dropped, and I could feel his warm breath in my hair. No one had held me since Mammy had died, not really. Was that why this felt so good? Why it felt…
Like refuge.
I felt his heart pounding against my back, felt myself sinking into his vastness. And inside those depths, I began to detect… other souls. They looked like golden lights, dancing in the dark. They weren’t inside Nin, I realized. These souls were nearby. Inside the manor. People. Ghosts.
Bethany!
I could feel her, lost inside the house somewhere, among the servants… and others I didn’t recognize.
All these souls became distorted in my mind, a dizzying array of dancing lights, until I couldn’t tell the living from the dead. But I wasn’t afraid.
It was beautiful. Celestial. An entire choir of spirits.
And yet there was one soul in that heavenly choir that was a lot closer than the others inside the manor. Hoffman. Keeping my eyes squeezed shut, I homed in on his spirit light and saw something different. Something darker. Something…
Not quite right.
A sudden, irrational fear washed over me.
I opened my eyes, and the world rushed back to me.
The dimness of twilight. The wind blowing autumn leaves across the lawn.
I blinked into the shadows that surrounded the carriage house.
Mr. Hoffmann had begun his whistling again, and the melody was moving away from us, heading back to the manor.
Nin’s arm released my shoulders. Then he firmly shoved me away from him. Shoved! As if he couldn’t wait a single second longer to not be touching me.
I stumbled forward and had to steady myself on the woodpile after turning around to face him, embarrassed that he’d pushed me away. Embarrassed that my body already missed his warmth. Confused by all of this.
Confused by him.
“What in God’s name was that?” I whispered.
“He is entering the manor now,” Nin said without emotion. “You are safe.”
“I don’t care about that. I’m talking about what I just saw before you pushed me away like I’m some common thief trying to pick your pocket.”
“I did not—”
“You did,” I whispered hotly, ignoring the twinge of guilt about the stolen pocket mirror that currently sat inside my skirt pocket like a lead weight. “I could see things—or feel them, I don’t know. I could detect other beings in the manor. Souls. I could see souls!”
His stare was unblinking and lifeless. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Souls! Ghosts! People!” I whispered, throwing up one of my arms in agitation.
“I’ve only ever been able to see ghosts one at a time.
But just now, when…” You were holding me.
Heat spread across my cheeks. I prayed he couldn’t see it and kept prattling on to cover it up.
“On top of all that, you almost just got me in trouble! Hoffmann nearly caught me.”
His brow lowered as he frowned. “You almost got yourself in trouble. Lucky I found you before the servant did. What are you doing out here in the dark? Have you lost your mind?”
“Clearly I’m trailing Mr. Hoffmann,” I said as my embarrassment faded. “But what are you doing out here? I thought you could only leave the basement when Voss is asleep? It’s too early. I haven’t even given him his nightly cough medicine yet.”
“He fell asleep half an hour ago. He’s been napping more frequently over the past few weeks,” Nin said, gesturing dismissively. “Why were you following the servant out here? I saw you running from the goat pasture. Didn’t I tell you to stay away from the aegis fence?”
Now I was the one frowning. “Who do you think you are, my boss?”
“I wish I was. Maybe you’d heed my warnings then.” He shook his head as if I’d disappointed him. “But since you don’t bother to listen to me, I guess I’ll just be getting back to my prison—”
“Oh no you don’t!” I said, putting myself in front of his body to block him from leaving the little alcove.
“Not before you answer me. A minute ago, I could feel spirits. I could feel life. I could see ghosts wandering the halls of the manor. I could see Bethany! Or feel her? I don’t know what that was, but she is inside the manor. I thought she was gone. I, I…”
I sounded unwell. I knew that, but I also knew what was true and what wasn’t.
And this was true.
He didn’t say anything for a long moment. He just pushed stray curls away from his eye, watching me under fans of dark lashes until I steadied myself and crossed my arms. I suppose he finally realized I wasn’t backing down, because he eventually answered me.
“I don’t usually touch humans for that long.”
“Humans,” I deadpanned.
A noise of frustration rumbled from the back of his throat, and he looked away without comment.
I tried a different tactic. “Something is different about Hoffmann.”
His head didn’t move but his eyes flicked toward mine. “You noticed?”
I nodded.
You could almost see the wheels moving inside his head. He was considering his reply carefully, and after a moment, he finally said, “He isn’t what he seems.”
“I know that now, don’t I? Who is he, then?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“And you keep telling me that. But if you believe giving me vague answers will dampen my curiosity, I’m afraid you’re the one who doesn’t understand.”
“Stubborn girl,” he mumbled.
“Mammy always said I was as stubborn as the day was long. It’s an O’Rinn trait.”
He grunted, but there was a shimmer in his eyes that told me I’d amused him. And after a long sigh, he finally said, “You’re correct. Hoffmann is… different. In some ways, he is much like me. He was summoned against his will and trapped. Forced into servitude.”
Trapped? There it was again, that accusation. “No one is trapped. You can leave your chains, and I went into town today with the master—I’m no prisoner here.”
“That’s where you were today?” he asked, genuinely surprised. “He took you with him?”
“You knew I was gone?”
He nodded. “I can perceive your presence.”
“Like I could ‘perceive’ all those souls inside the manor?”
“Maybe,” he said, shrugging loosely. “I don’t know. As I said, I’ve never touched another human for that long.”
We stared at each other, both of us a little on guard. My gut didn’t think he wasn’t lying, but at the same time, I couldn’t understand how everything he’d just said could be true. Was he like me? Could he see ghosts too? Not just ghosts, but souls. Living or dead.
I convinced myself that this must be true. Just for a second. Then I remembered that I’d been seeing him for years and he hadn’t aged or changed.
“I’ll ask you again,” I murmured. “Who are you?”
He bowed his head. “If Hoffmann seems other, then know that I am more like him than you. And you shouldn’t be able to see me or talk to me. I do not know why you can. But you probably shouldn’t.”
“Shouldn’t… talk to you?”
Nin nodded.
“That’s a strange thing to tell a person, especially when you’re the one who keeps showing up and talking to me.”
His neck reddened in a flush that crept up his pale face. Was he embarrassed? That didn’t seem right. I must’ve been reading him wrong.
He fiddled with the lapel of his jacket, picking at invisible lint until the color left his face.
Then he said, “There’s a book inside Voss’s room written by a man named John Stearne.
A compendium. It has a bright red leather cover and a silver star on the spine.
There is an entry in that book about my family on page sixty-one. ”
About his family? Hmm…
His sober gaze pierced me. “Find that book and read the entry.”
“Or you could just tell me?”
“Read it,” he insisted.
“Does it talk about how you came to be called Nin the Sorrowful?”
One brow lifted ever so slightly. “Read it and find out, Molly the Curious.”
I snorted. “You have no idea.”
“I’m beginning to think I do. Find that book.”
“See now, that’s going to be difficult. Voss almost never leaves his quarters.”
“Where there’s a stubborn girl, there’s a way,” he said, almost playful. “You’ll figure it out.”
Tendrils of purple light were sinking behind dark trees in the distance. It was almost night, far too dark to be out walking. The servants might be looking for me.
But I didn’t want to leave.
“Why can’t you just tell me?” I asked.
“It’s better that you read it.”
“It’s better that I risk my employer’s anger by browsing his personal books without permission?”
Nin hesitated. Maybe he hadn’t thought this through.
“What do I get for risking my well-being?” I asked.
“Knowledge.”
I snorted and shook my head. “Not good enough. If you want me to read this book, you’re going to have to give me something in exchange.”
“And what would that be?”
I knew exactly the thing I wanted. “Allow me to examine your hurt shoulder.”
Oh, he did not like that. His face contorted, shifting from surprise to frustration before settling into a blank expression.
“Fine,” he said. “If you read that book and you still want to examine my shoulder, then I will allow it. But you may decide you want nothing more to do with me. Here, take this.”
He plucked one small red feather from his boutonniere and held it out to me.
“What is this?” I asked, carefully trying not to touch his fingertips as I took the feather from him.
“I’ll give you until midnight tomorrow to read the book. After reading it, if you decide you don’t want to see me again, do nothing. But if you read it and still…” He struggled to find the right words. “If you decide you still want to examine my shoulder, then place this feather outside your door.”
“Outside my door…?”
“If I don’t see the feather after midnight tomorrow, I will no longer show myself. You will be on your own.”
I already was on my own, but I didn’t say this. I just looked at the feather in my fingers and said, “Fine. By midnight tomorrow, if—”
When I looked up, he was gone.
HOW?
I was blocking his exit. The only way out was for him to climb over the woodpile, and I would have seen him doing that. Would have felt the air moving. I swung around from side to side, searching for him. Until somewhere in the nearby darkness, I heard Nin’s voice trailing away from me.
“Goodbye, Molly O’Rinn, daughter of Cat O’Rinn.”
After a moment, I replied in a whisper that floated away on the wind.
“Until next time, Nin the Sorrowful.”