Chapter 13
The Transferal took two full days. If not for Tacey’s attentiveness, Mercury likely would have been a shell of a person for days—if not weeks—afterward.
At one point, he’d been too weak to get out of bed.
Tacey had made certain Smythe brought him everything he needed.
She had taken on the responsibility of being hostess to the Padmores and Mr. Sappington.
She had sent Baby and Zizzy to keep Mercury company, as it was too scandalous a thing for her to look in on him in his private chambers.
She had eased every burden she could, and he was deeply, deeply grateful.
The young artist and Signora Bellona rode away from the manor, off-key opera emanating from the carriage as they went. Both had expressed excitement about their coming journey across the Channel.
Baby Blue and Zizzy hovered near the Professor as the Padmores’ carriage was prepared. The two young ghosts were going to miss him, but the Padmores had assured them that they would visit again and Professor Daskalov would, of course, be with them.
Mrs. Padmore hugged Tacey. “And you and I can enjoy each other’s company again as well.”
“I look forward to it.”
Mrs. Padmore stepped away, crossing to the carriage. She stopped in front of Mercury. “You are very fortunate to have her as your neighbor.”
“Yes, I am.”
The Padmores were soon on their way as well. Aventine Manor would have a period of quiet, though how long it would last was impossible to predict.
Tacey, with Baby Blue on one side and Zizzy on the other, walked inside the house. They passed Granny Grey and the Cream Canary, who floated over to Mercury. None of the other ghosts were outside. Mercury was alone with the only two who knew the true precariousness of his situation.
“Moor Cross Home for Orphans,” the Cream Canary said, her voice quiet, her tone matter-of-fact.
Mercury didn’t nod or confirm. He didn’t need to. This was the secret she had been struggling not to reveal. He was certain of it.
“You arrived there when you were three years old,” she said. “I ‘remember’ that now.”
Three years old. That was a revelation, and it sat uncomfortably on his mind and heart. He had lived somewhere before the orphanage. It didn’t change the fact that the Moor Cross governor had claim on everything Mercury had made of his life.
Three years. He’d been somewhere else for three years. Someone else.
“Three years feels like long enough to have been known by someone other than my parents,” he said, thinking out loud. “Someone must have known me as something other than an orphan.”
“And,” Granny interjected, “called you something other than—”
“Don’t say that name,” he said. It was tied to a time of his life he had worked very hard to leave behind. “I’m Mercury Raine now. And I always will be.”
“Mercury Raine has a past,” the Cream Canary said. “And there are others who will begin remembering it.”
He walked down the path leading to the side of the house. Granny and the Canary kept pace with him.
“I need to gather them here,” he said. “If they are attached to me, the secrets they could reveal would be safe.”
“Yes.” A bit of uncertainty touched Granny’s answer.
That brought Mercury’s gaze to her. “You are the one who told me that I needed to collect them.”
“You do,” she said. “But even that comes with risks.”
“I am a runaway orphan who is, technically, breaking a great many laws,” he said. “And yet, I have chosen to make my living as an increasingly famous ghost broker. Clearly I am not unwilling to take risks.”
“I’ve come to like you, Mercury Raine,” Granny said. “I worry about you. About all the ghosts here. About Tacey. You need to find these ‘knowing’ ghosts, for the sake of everyone here.”
He held his hands up in a show of frustration. “I cannot go to London; that is far too risky. But it is also extremely unlikely that ghosts who happen to possess Phantomic Memories of me will arrive at Aventine Manor for swaps by coincidence.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets. He was still carrying around the iron key. He hadn’t done that consistently in all the years he’d left the orphanage. But he was glad of it just then. He needed the reminder of all he was fighting for.
“Do you think my arrival here was mere coincidence?” the Cream Canary asked.
He looked at them both, an eerie feeling of uncomfortable fate wrapping itself around him. He barely held back a shiver, though the day was not cold. “Was it not?”
“I felt pulled here, Mercury.” Her gaze turned to the grounds before returning to him. “It was I who suggested to the Padmores that they come here to have Mercury Raine broker their swap.”
“I felt that pull as well,” Granny said. “I encouraged Tacey’s mother to bring us to Aventine Manor.”
“But neither of you knew me before arriving. How could you feel pulled to some place and someone you have no connection to?”
The Cream Canary shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“The others will be pulled here as well,” Granny said. “The storm is gathering and building.”
It was the same metaphor the Cream Canary had used.
“And Aventine Manor is the eye,” he said.
“Oh no, Mercury,” Granny countered. “Aventine isn’t the eye. You are.”