Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
M y mind was a whirlwind. Why was I seeing only that single bright colour? If Maaier were my soul mate then I would have seen full colour. Or would I? The details of the curse were hazy to even the most well versed Florian.
I rushed into the halls chasing uselessly after Maaier. A wave of frustration crashed through me. How dare he abandon me like that in the dark hall at night with only a single candle to light my way. Useless bodyguard he was. My skin warmed where his hands had been, as if craving more of his gentle touch. My footsteps echoed through the corridor, clapping lightly on the floorboards. Moonlight cascaded down the misted windows through open rooms.
God damn that wretched man! My hands twisted into fists. How dare he call upon me and simply dance with me. What was he waiting for? It’s not like I’m overly delicate. I want someone to set my body on fire but not bring anything more.
Candles flickered as I walked. The cold chill in the air settled deep in my bones. I wrapped my arms around myself for warmth. My breath fogged in the air. The eyes of the portraits on the walls following my every move. Their details were hazy in the condensation of the night air.
As I made my way toward the one person I missed most, my heart raced in my chest. Coming back to life.
“Hi Mother,” I whispered as I approached. Her features so like mine. The only portrait not covered in a haze.
Her loving stare forever captured in the painting. Grandmother always told me she held me behind the artist and that’s why her smile was so adoring. I liked to believe Father was the one holding me and she was looking upon both of us but according to Arthur he had disappeared for almost a year. Mother took him back with open arms much to the family’s dismay.
Slowly, I stepped toward her, admiring the detail in her eyes. My gaze landed on the heart shaped locket around her neck. My mood deflated further. I lifted a palm. My hand making gentle contact with the canvas, the rough texture of the old cold and harsh under my touch.
A sudden pain erupted in my arm. I withdrew my arm with a hiss and stumbled back. A harsh white light took over my senses until all I saw was the shade.
The hall was the same, only alive with piano notes and singing drifting through the halls. People wove through the rooms. Chattering and giggling.
“Vespera?” Mother’s voice called. She swayed into the hall. Her smile was luminous as she looked at me. Her long light skirts swaying around her. She opened her arms. I stepped toward her.
“Mummy!” Called a small voice back to her. Without another word, small hurried footsteps moved toward me. I watched as my own child form ran through me, leaping into my mother’s arms. She pulled me into a tight embrace, kissing my hair over and over again. Her smile blazed brighter as I smiled back at her with a wide grin. Nothing but adoration in my eyes.
A smile lifted on my own face. Mother ushered me out to the back garden. I followed behind her, wishing my hand was still in hers. Mother led me to a patch of petunias. The flowers swayed gently in the warm midsummer breeze.
“See how beautiful they are?” Mother knelt before me. Not phased by the soil beneath her mating her beautiful skirts.
“So beautiful.” My voice so innocent as a child. So untouched by the cruelty of the world.
“What about those ones?” Mother pointed at a small bunch wilting in the back. I moved around behind her. Watching as child me observed the blooms peeking through the brush.
“They’re dying.” I noted. My small voice sad.
“Yes they are. Death comes for us all, sweet girl. But soon enough he will come for you.”
“I know,” I sighed.
“You need to find your colour before he finds you.” Her hand grabbed her child before her. Her eyes staring into mine. As if baring her message into me.
“But mummy. I don’t want colour.” A pout forming on my lips.
“You do baby. Trust me you do. But Death will take that from you. He will take you far away from me.” She urged.
Tears pricked my eyes. If only she knew that he took her first.
I looked at her necklace. The same locket glinted in the sun. I reached forward over my head. Tears stinging my eyes. I remembered this day. It was Mother’s twenty-seventh birthday. She petted my child hair. The tears fell down my ghostly cheeks. This was a week before she died. She warned me of Death coming for me when in reality he came for her.
“Baby. Look at me. Promise me you won’t trust anyone who says you belong to them,” She said looking so panicked. I had never seen her like this. She was genuinely terrified.
Movement caught my gaze from behind her. I looked past the sweet moment. Only to find a familiar stable hand. Only now he wasn’t a stable hand. He was my protector. I looked back at him. His gaze fell from my mother to me as a child until it lifted. His gaze darkened as he saw me lingering behind them. The first person to notice me in this strange ghostly form. His eyes locked on mine. Wild and confused. He stepped forward. I stepped back.
Mother turned to face him. As if sensing his presence too. Her gaze narrowed, assessing the strange man. She said nothing as she rose. Facing him head on. As if she truly had no fear. Her warm hands reached back for me. Despite myself, I leant forward. My hands reached for hers. My heart dropped as my ghostly corporeal hands fell through them. Younger me clutched hers tightly.
“Come now, gloomy. Let’s have some cake.”
Within seconds I was hurled back to the present. My back collided with something hard as I stumbled back. A warm body stood firm behind me. Victor’s cologne hit my nose. I sighed heavily in relief, the feeling of Maaier’s eyes still clinging to me. My hands trembled. Once warm, now frigid and cold.
“What were you doing down here?” He said. But his tone wasn’t angry or upset but rather curious.
“I came to find a book. I couldn’t sleep.” I lied. Mother’s warning lingering in my head. Her smile still warming me slightly. I turned to face him. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. The manor would do that to you.
“Can I make you a cup of tea?” He offered. His hand outstretched.
I nodded. My mind whirling as he took my hand, leading me down to the kitchen. Why was I seeing these weird visions? Why was Maaier there? And what on earth was Victor doing up this late?
I leant against the cold bench. The small teacup pressed against my lips. Inhaling the leafy scents did nothing to calm the throbbing in my temples. Victor remained silent as he stared at me.
I lowered my gaze to the murky brown water. At least this was better than Dorian’s brew.
Seeing Maaier in that memory was much like seeing him now. He hadn’t aged a single day. Not one single white hair marred the dark expanse of his long hair. His dark eyes still held the same intensity.
I tried to focus back on my sweet mother. Her loving hold on my hands as she warned me. I had almost forgotten that day. Almost. Her warning still followed me everywhere.
Filing it away in my mind under useless information I held on to, such as how many bones one has in their little finger.
There was a truth to Mother's words. Death had come for me. That much was clear. The proof was on my chest but why would they be hunting me as a child? Who had scared her so much that she believed I was the omen of him? Who tried to take me from her? So many unanswered questions swelled through my mind. I felt as if I were drowning in the depths of them.
The only thing bringing me to the surface time and time again was Maaier. I needed to speak to him. To learn the truth without prying ears. And I knew just the place.