3.
Lucy moved further into the dark cavern. There was no light pouring in from the hidden door that she'd closed a few minutes ago, so she was pretty certain that she'd lost her pursuer. She wished she'd been able to punch his scornful face which had stared at her with such revulsion, but she knew that in the open daylight it was better to make a certain getaway rather than risk more pain for temporary satisfaction. It was a lesson she'd been forced to endure several times while growing up.
For a brief time after her father had died, parents had pitied her and insured that their children treated her politely. A short time later, most children were instead told to simply leave her alone. But after Lucy's mother disappeared, most of the adults couldn't be bothered to say anything about how kids treated one another, especially not when they were bullying a child with no parents to complain. By the time a year had passed, Lucy had stopped going to school and avoided all the other children.
In retrospect, that year of agony had been a blessing. Without it, Lucy would likely have never met the Maestro, and her life would be much more bland. Lucy still missed her father terribly, even these many years later, but she was happy for the things the Maestro had brought into her life, especially the music.
Lucy began humming very softly as she made her way deeper into the cavern. After a few yards, the passageway turned and she moved out of the rough hewn cavern and into a more cleanly constructed hallway. The lighting was very dim, but her eyes had adjusted to the low lighting, and besides she was well familiar with this hallway. Lucy passed several doors as she walked slowly, but with confidence to the ornate wooden door at the far end of the hallway. Most of the doors she passed were simple, plain wooden doors, like you would find in any house, but the door at the end of the hallway was different. Even in the dim lighting, it shone from the smooth black lacquer. It was tough to see right now, but Lucy knew there was an angel, approximately 3 inches tall, inscribed in delicate red paint in the upper center of the door. The door handle was an intricate device made of brass with various carvings along its surface.
When she was a young girl, Lucy would often spend hours outside this door, etching all these details deeply into her brain. She had often sat on the floor waiting for this door to open granting her access to the room inside. But today she slowly turned the door handle as quietly as possible, and pushed the door open. The well maintained hinges made no sound as the door moved. Once a week, Lucy did her best to ensure that the occupant would not be disturbed by her entrance.
She quietly stepped into the room, and was met by an entirely expected sight. The Maestro was sitting at his desk, pen in hand, writing furiously on the paper laid out in front of him. Besides eating and sleeping, he seemed to only do three things and this was by far the most common as far as Lucy had ever seen. Sometimes he was filling pages with musical compositions. Other times it was elaborate designs for whatever he had dreamt up that day. Once, she had caught a peek of a sheet of paper covered in bizarre symbols that she was completely unable to understand at all. As usual, the pen and paper demanded his attention and Lucy had no doubt that he'd barely registered her entrance.
Physically speaking, the Maestro was quite ghoulish. His noseless face with several scars, accented by sunken eyes and tinted with a sickly yellowish complexion made him look inhuman. The scattered tufts of graying hair only added to the macabre effect. But beyond that, Lucy knew that he was brilliant. And further still, although he was stern, she knew that he was far kinder than the monsters who walked through the town each day. To her, he was a noble hero who had rescued her from relentless torment many years ago near the same bridge she'd just escaped under.
"Have you eaten today?" she asked softly from a few paces behind.
The only response was an irritable grunt, as the man continued scribbling at his notes. Lucy knew that this meant "no", so she surveyed the rest of the room quickly before turning back to the lacquered door. The bed was properly arranged, with various pillows and cushions along the headboard. A wooden dresser stood nearby with a mask on top of it. It had been a regular affectation when they met, but was rarely bothered with anymore. In the corner were several musical instruments; a piano, with a violin atop it, a flute case sat on the bench before the piano, and on the floor was an old trumpet she'd never actually seen him use. The rest of the room was filled with bookcases, one of which had actual books; but the rest were covered with all manner of gears and gadgets in various states of completion. Satisfied with the current state of things, Lucy quietly opened the door again, and returned to the hallway.
Walking a little more briskly now, Lucy sauntered over to the door that led to the kitchen. She went inside and stepped over to the pantry to pull out some bread. After cutting off a few slices, she added some cheese and a few slices of sausage that was resting on the counter. She then filled a kettle from the nearby tap and put it on the nearby stove. After adding a log to the interior she lit some kindling to get it burning. It would take a while for the heat to rise enough to boil the water in the kettle, so Lucy walked back to the tray she'd prepared and took it back to the Maestro's room.
It had not been long, so of course he was still in the same place doing the same thing as when she'd left. Lucy put the tray down on his desk and picked up a slice of bread for herself before moving over to a nearby stool where she quietly nibbled at her bread as he continued working. She smiled as he began absently taking bites of bread and cheese while still staring intently at the pages on his desk. He continued to work and eat while she sat nearby, but Lucy didn't mind. This was routine to her by now and she happily waited for him to either decide to take a break from this particular project or get fed up with the choices he'd made at some point. From her experience, either outcome was equally possible.
Lucy was startled when the Maestro suddenly slapped down his pen and curtly said, "Tea!" She was embarrassed to realize the kettle was probably whistling back in the kitchen where she had let it sit for too long. He had better hearing than her, so he had clearly noticed the disruption.
Lucy ran back to the kitchen and removed the kettle. She then poured the hot water into a plain tea pot before adding in the tea leaves. She set the kettle aside while giving the tea a few minutes to steep. The flavour of the tea leaves seeped into the water as Lucy put two saucers on a nearby tray before taking two teacups from the cabinet and placing them on the saucers. The smell of the tea began to drift into the air, so she strained out the leaves to keep the taste from turning too strong. She then poured tea into the cups on the tray and set the kettle back onto the counter.
Tray in hand, Lucy made her way back to the Maestro's room. He had set down his pen and was glaring at her as she returned.
Lucy sheepishly put the tray on his desk and stood, wringing her hands slightly. She had forgotten the third possible option: the Maestro's work could be interrupted, which usually left him in an agitated state. She tried to avoid this if possible, because although brilliant, he was a very temperamental man and agitation could bring many different things, but a scolding was always included.
"You left the kettle boiling too long, you know I don't like to be distrubed while I'm working."
"Yes Maestro," she replied timidly.
"But worse, you deliberately disobeyed me last night."
Lucy flinched at this. She had really hoped he hadn't noticed, but worried that the commotion made that unlikely. Apparently her fears had been correct. She flushed with embarrassment as her head lowered even more.
"You told me you were going to work, not to gallivant through the streets!"
"I did go to work Maestro." It wasn't exactly a lie. She received a different scolding the previous night when she'd arrived late for her shift.
"Tonight, you will stay here. No arguing," he roared the final imperative, cutting her off before she could object. He then dropped into his chair, as if giving that directive had taken a lot of energy, and waved his had at the gramophone in the corner. Lucy stood dumbfounded for a few moments before a slight glare prompted her to set the gramophone playing. She quickly realized the current recording was music only and she was meant to supply the vocals. After listening to the opening beats, she began singing along in tune with the music.
Lucy could not remember having a particular affinity or fondness for music as a child, but ever since meeting the Maestro, she had come to love it from the deepest depths of her soul. She could certainly listen to him play for hours. And on rare occasions when he would sing, time itself seemed to lose all meaning and she felt that he could sing for days and it would still not be enough.
She winced as the Maestro slammed a hand to the desk. After years of instruction, she knew that he was not angry, but he was nonetheless a stern teacher and would always point out areas of her performance needing correction. Lucy hurriedly restarted the music and began anew, while trying to improve the mistakes in her voice. This part offkey, that part is a beat too slow, voice too tentative, and on and on. Most of these she had heard before. The piece was within her range, the Maestro was absolutely certain of that fact. But still, he demanded utter perfection, which Lucy often felt was beyond her capability. Even so, she enjoyed singing and was happy for the instruction, so she did her best and accepted every bit of criticism without complaint.
"Enough," he finally said. "Take care of this and then go to your room," he said while waving at the dishes from before.
Lucy collected the empty cups and placed them back on the now empty tray before taking them all to the kitchen. She quickly rinsed the various items before setting them aside on the counter to dry. She also rinsed the teapot, which had earlier been left in the kitchen and had now cooled. She dried her hands and poked her head into the hallway. After confirming that the lacquered door was closed once again, she made her way to another door in the dimly lit hallway.
The door was sturdy and simple. It was unadorned and the doorknob was plain and unremarkable. In short, nothing about the door to Lucy's room stood out or drew attention to itself, from the outside it could easily be mistaken for the nearby closet. But once she opened the door and stepped inside, Lucy was embraced by the always comforting atmosphere of the space she called her own.
The small room was square with each wall measuring about 8 feet. Her bed filled more than a third of the room and was covered with a colorful, patchwork quilt that was one of her few keepsakes from her life before the accident that had taken her parents. Her small desk was covered with random collections of papers and small doodads, much like her mentor. Along the wall opposite the bed, she had two shelves which held up a small set of books held upright by mismatched boxes. In the corner opposite the bed was a small wardrobe, which was held open by the towel and nightgown draping over the door. But the feature that Lucy always found both delightful and fascinating was the small hole in the center of the ceiling. From this aperture, the warm glow of the late afternoon sun filled Lucy's room.
Although the Maestro had explained the "sky light" (as he called it) in the past, Lucy only had a vague understanding of how it worked to bring outside light into her room. But nonetheless, she appreciated the break from the light of flickering flames. Unfortunately, she could tell that the sun was well past its peak and the light would be growing dimmer as evening approached.
Lucy kicked off her shoes as she walked across the worn rug in the middle of the room and threw herself face down onto the bed. She wasn't entirely sure what she had expected the Maestro's reaction to be, but being grounded was frustrating. She knew there had actually been several incidents lately. The majority of the townsfolk were unaware since the previous incidents hadn't included an explosion in the middle of town. But working in the pub late at night, she'd heard whispers and muttered rumors for several weeks. It was disappointing that her first attempt to investigate the rumors had failed so spectacularly.
Lucy kicked her legs weakly as she went over the prior night's events in her mind. She had heard about the Oxford groundskeeper being sequestered away the previous morning after a fit of hysterics about ghosts or some such nonsense. The explosion had caused a much larger commotion that she had intended, but at least it had made it much easier to get away. She had been shocked to run into the man from the alley, not once but twice now. With that in mind, it was probably for the best that she was not going to town for the rest of the day.
She turned her head to peek at the door as she heard the knob turning. Through the narrow opening, the Maestro spoke.
"I will be going out for a time. I will let Mistress Parker know that you will be indisposed this evening, so you have no reason to be gallivanting outside tonight?"
It was asked as a question, but his tone made clear that his statement was not intended as such.
"Yes Maestro," Lucy replied.
The door slid shut and she heard his footsteps retreat down the hallway. Lucy rolled over and stared at the ceiling. She wondered where the Maestro was going this evening, but didn't dare try to find out.
As the light shining into her was slowly dimming into a shade heralding dusk, a mischievous thought entered her mind. She let her mouth break into a tiny wicked grin as she pulled herself up off the bed and slowly walked over to the door. She carefully turned the knob and very cautiously craned her neck to check the space outside.
As she had expected, the hallway was barren. She looked back and forth for a full minute letting her ears strain to try to make out any sound, be it walking or clattering or even breathing. But aside from the tiny, barely audible crackle of flame, there was nothing.
Lucy allowed herself a tiny sigh as she slowly eased out of her room into the hallway. She slowly crept along the wall deeper into the hallway. As she passed the first doorway, she swallowed nervously, although she was moving away from the exit, now that she had passed the bathroom she had lost the easiest explanation for where she was going. She was pretty certain that he had left, but there had been times when he had tricked her into thinking he was away, only to pop up suddenly to catch her sneaking somewhere she was forbidden from going.
This time she had not technically been forbidden from leaving her room, she had only been bade not to leave the underground labyrinth that they lived in. The Maestro certainly would not have restricted her from going to the bathroom, and even the kitchen was most likely fine, Lucy told herself as she began to inch past the chamber she had just recently tidied up. But that last door at the end of the hall was different. He hadn't explicitly forbade her from going in there this evening, but she was pretty sure he would not approve if he knew.
The black lacquered door reflected rays of the dim lighting, and the red angel almost seemed to burn as she crept closer to the door. Lucy paused a few short steps before the door and held her breath listening again for any movement or other sounds in the dim hallway. After a few seconds she closed her eyes and strained for any sounds of another person within the underground dwelling. After what seemed like an hour (but was actually less than a minute), she felt satisfied that the Maestro had truly left and quickly reached for the ornate doorknob. As before, the knob turned smoothly and the door swung open without complaint on the well oiled hinges, but to Lucy the barely audible whisper of the air pushed by the door sounded like a hurricane. She took one last furtive glance behind herself before carefully walking into the room.
Lucy walked over to one of the Maestro's bookcases. Most of the shelves were filled with journals and notebooks, into which he had poured his thoughts and studies. In short order, Lucy found the worn, leather-bound tome she sought and gently pulled it from the shelf. Most of the books looked similar, and the organizational system might be incomprehensible to most people. But Lucy was not "most people" and had a lot of experience sorting through the Maestro's belongings, including his many, many books and records. He was an exacting man, and thus handled most of the organizing and placement himself. But he could be turbulent and on occasion allowed help when the amount of work required would take too much of his time. She cracked the book to confirm that she had acquired the right one. She hugged it tight and hurriedly retreated from the Maestro's room.
Her heart pounded in her chest as Lucy returned to her own room and leaned her back against the door. Her legs barely held her up as she panted heavily, more from nervousness over what she'd done rather than from physical exertion. She tried to decide whether she was experiencing exhausted relief or exhilaration over the completion of her brief several minute escapade. She settled on satisfaction as she carried her trophy over to the small desk.
She opened the book and flipped slowly before stopping on a diagram on a page about a quarter of the way. She scanned the image and began reading over some of the notes scrawled into the adjoining page.
After a few minutes of reading, Lucy's eyes took on an excited gleam and she hurriedly dug out a few tools and assorted items from nearby drawers. She laid out the various items in a haphazard manner that was in line with when she found them. When she finally nodded that she had everything she needed, Lucy finally went over to her cloak hanging from a hook on the wall by the door. There were a few pockets in the inner lining and she dug into one of them to retrieve a brass tube smaller around than her fist and about as tall as her hands stacked on top of one another. The tube was covered in black soot and had numerous parts that she knew were missing from when it was originally given to her.
Considering the scolding Lucy had received earlier, she was pretty certain that it would be a while before the Maestro would fix the device. He enjoyed tinkering with things and Lucy suspected he also liked to show off his ingenuity and brilliance, but he was likely to tell her that she had no need of it for the foreseeable future, if she had asked him. But with the schematic, Lucy was certain she could repair it herself. It would probably take her longer than he would need, but right now, she had plenty of time.
Lucy sat down at her desk and laid the brass tube down in the center before picking up a small screwdriver and testing a section noted in the diagram. Lucy had been learning from the Maestro for many years, she giggled slightly as she thought to herself that she'd even learned many things he hadn't known that he'd taught her. She looked forward to the day when she could proudly show him everything she learned.