Chapter Ten
Despite being in the company of Count Olaf, Alec's birthday celebration was a rather enjoyable experience. Until, of course, when they were just finishing up their slices of cake, a loud rapping noise came from the front door.
Count Olaf stood with a sigh, his stomach so full with delicious cake that he felt ill, and went to the door. In the kitchen, Alec and Violet sat in silence, wondering who it could be so late in the evening. When he returned, the two could see the blonde head of Ursa trailing behind Count Olaf, who entered and reclaimed his seat at the table. Violet, not wanting to be impolite, offered the woman a stiff smile.
"Where is my cake?" Ursa asked with a pout. Expressionless, she could be considered an attractive woman. But anytime she expressed an emotion, it morphed her face into an ugly mask.
"We have a piece left," Violet said in an instant, standing and making her way to the remains of the cake, which were sitting atop the counter. "Sit down and I'll get you a piece."
Violet didn't know the woman well and, although they had spoken briefly during the party, felt a good first impression might help her miserable circumstances. Alec didn't seem to care for the woman at all, but she thought perhaps Ursa wasn't so awful once you got to know her.
It didn't seem that was the case at all, however. Ursa took Violet's chair, scrunching her nose up at Alec, as if sitting next to him pained her. When Violet returned with the cake, she took one bite then promptly spit it out onto the table, tongue sticking out as if she'd eaten something from the garbage.
"Yeuch," she exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me it was coconut?" she said, turning an accusing glare toward Violet. "I hate coconut. Bring me wine this instant to get this disgusting taste from my mouth!"
Violet was shocked at the woman's rudeness for a moment and then, without looking at either Alec or Count Olaf, went to retrieve a wine glass. On the counter was a bottle Count Olaf had recently opened and she hurriedly filled the glass and took it back to the woman.
"Much better," Ursa said, pausing to take a large gulp as if her life depended on it. Again she looked at the cake with an expression of disgust – which was all the uglier on her face – and gave a dramatic shudder.
"Girl," said in a nasty tone. "Get this thing out of my sight. Then help me carry in the bags from my car. I'm exhausted from my trip and can hardly move a muscle."
Violet nodded, trying to quell the irritation from showing on her face. Perhaps Alec was right all along – what an unpleasant woman. The woman stood and flicked her hair back, causing Violet to wonder how on earth she ever mistook her for Kit. The initial similarities were disappearing with each sneer the woman gave and it almost seemed an insult to Kit that Violet had once thought the two similar.
Ursa stood and took the keys from Count Olaf, then led the way through the house. The two walked outside, where the sun had set and the only light was from the flickering bulb of the porch. Violet added light bulbs to her mental checklist as she followed the woman to an older car. In the dim light it was hard to tell, but Violet thought it might be painted purple or blue.
"Here," the woman said, popping the trunk. Inside, Violet was dismayed to see several suitcases. When she tried to lift the first, she found it heavy enough to warrant both hands. "Hurry, I haven't got all day," Ursa spat, clacking an impatient foot against the sidewalk.
"Where am I taking it?" Violet said with a great amount of exertion, heaving the bag over the edge of the trunk and letting the weight fall. It nearly toppled her over, but she managed to stay upright. When she took a step, the pain in her ankle seared.
"Upstairs to the bedroom," Ursa ordered, not bothering to grab a bag or otherwise help. When Violet reached the door, she looked over her shoulder to see the woman leering at her from the car. Apparently she was only supervising.
"What a dreadful person," she said under her breath.
"Isn't she?" said a voice from the living room and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Count Olaf was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.
"Sorry," Violet muttered quickly, wanting to kick herself. "I didn't mean it like that."
Count Olaf shrugged and then took up the stairs before she started on them. "I agree," he said over his shoulder. "The thing with dreadful people is that they never seem to go away."
Violet found this quite true, thinking of the man she was following up the stairs. No matter how safe they thought they were, she and her siblings could never get him to go away. This thought, of course, went unvoiced.
"I put Alec in bed," he said in a bored tone, reaching the top of his stairs. "Come to my office when you've finished and I'll see you to your room."
This was a very polite way of saying he would lock her in a tiny room not fit for a single person, let alone two, but this thought also went unvoiced. Instead, upon reaching the top stair, lugging the monstrous suitcase behind her, Violet nodded and continued to his bedroom. Count Olaf lingered in the door to his office, seeing the image of Violet in his bedroom through the crack in the door. It was an image he enjoyed quite a bit, though he tore himself from it before he was accused of spying and went to his research.
It took another four trips for Violet to get everything out of the trunk. On the fourth trip, however, Ursa stopped her near the front door and told her to sit down the luggage.
"I feel we've gotten off on the wrong foot," Ursa said, giving a smile that resembled more of a grimace. Violet wondered if she was being genuine and that's just how she smiled. Perhaps she and Alec were wrong after all. Everyone had bad days. "We should chat for a moment, you know, among girls. Being surrounded by idiotic men all the time can make us grouchy."
Violet set the suitcase down near her foot, then offered the woman a smile.
"My," Ursa said, reaching out for the ring which hung around Violet's neck. "What a gorgeous pendant. It looks expensive."
Violet stiffened and then relaxed as the woman pulled her hand away. "It was my engagement ring," she told her. "But, he perished in a fire before we were wed."
Something gleamed in the woman's eye, but it was gone in a flash. "That's horrible," she said. "It's very hard to lose those we love. My sister was lost in a terrible accident."
Violet looked down at her hands, trying to imagine life without Sunny. No matter how many other deaths she was plagued by, if she lost either of her siblings it would create an unfixable hole in her heart after all they'd gone through. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "It must have been awful, I can't imagine."
Ursa gave a chuckle and Violet looked up, wondering who would laugh during such a solemn conversation. The woman dug into her cleavage and pulled forth a strange looking pendant. "I keep my memories around my neck, too," she said sweetly – too sweetly. "Our parents had them crafted for us. The only other in the world is buried with what remains of my dear sister."
The pendant was odd. It was shaped like an hourglass, though there was no sand to be seen. Around the edges glittered small red gems which caught the light in peculiar ways. Engraved were little words, so tiny Violet was having a hard time making them out.
"Can you read the words?" Ursa asked her, Violet finding her voice suddenly relaxing. She did not notice the way the woman began to swing the pendant slightly from side to side.
"No," Violet said, trying to focus her eyes on the small words but unable to due to the way the light cast from the red gems. "What does it say?"
"Keep looking," Ursa urged. "It's a beautiful passage."
Violet never managed to figure out what the pendant had engraved in it. For several minutes she tried, being lulled by Ursa's words of encouragement. Before long a great fog had covered her mind and her eyes unfocused.
Had she inquired further, Violet might have realized that Ursa's lost sister was both an optometrist and a hypnotist, in addition to being someone Violet had already met. But, she didn't inquire further and so, instead of finding out Ursa's sister was actually the nefarious Dr. Georgina Orwell, she fell right into Ursa's trap.
"You look quite tired, Veronica," the woman said in a soft tone. "Tell me, what is your real name?"
"Violet Baudelaire," she answered, feeling quite strange, as if her brain were filled with helium and floating far away.
"I knew it," the woman hissed. Her face had gone quite red, twisted in jealousy and rage, but this was missed by Violet who was staring off into the darkness in the yard. "Did you sleep with him?" Ursa demanded.
Violet's brow tucked and Ursa nearly struck her across the face. "With whom?" she asked, tone light and airy.
"With Olaf!" Ursa whispered under her breath, making sure to close the front door so they wouldn't be overheard.
"No," Violet answered. Ursa moved to stand in front of her and felt a sense of accomplishment in seeing the girl's pupils wide and open to suggestion.
"Do you want to?" Ursa asked, again ready to strike her should the answer not be one she wanted to hear.
"No," Violet repeated. The relief was instant on Ursa's face. Perhaps she'd overreacted. It was just that Olaf went after the girl with such ferocity that she thought they might have been lovers before.
"Why are you here?" Ursa asked next. If it was really as Olaf told it, surely the girl would have tried to escape. The knowledge of him hiding Violet's identity from her made her blood boil.
"I'm going to take him to the Quagmire sapphires," Violet droned, like she was on the edge of sleep.
This perked Ursa up, who leaned closer toward the girl's face. "Why would you do a thing like that?" she cooed, wanting to get to the bottom of this and get the girl out of her hair. The sooner Violet Baudelaire was dead, the sooner she could breathe easy again. Olaf's lingering looks toward the girl bordered on perverse.
"So he won't kill Klaus and Sunny," she answered, eyes unmoving.
"Your siblings," Ursa stated, to which the girl nodded. "Listen, carefully, Violet Baudelaire. Are you listening?" Again, the girl nodded. "Good," she continued. "You're going to do everything you're told to do, without question. Do you understand?"
Wide-eyed, Violet nodded. Ursa knew, judging by the girl's lax pupils, that she was in deep, as they say in the world of hypnotism, and wide open for suggestion. "Tell me what you're going to do," Ursa urged, greed thick in her tone.
"I'm going to do everything I'm told," Violet repeated, "Without question."
"Good," Ursa said again. "You're not going to remember any of this conversation, are you Violet?"
The girl shook her head, but repeated it for the woman when she demanded a vocal declaration.
"No, you won't remember a thing. When you wake up, you're going to have an urge. An absolutely terrible urge. You're going to want to do nothing more than to lead Olaf to the sapphires," Ursa told her, pausing for a moment to allow it to sink in. "You want to help him, don't you Violet?"
Violet nodded, muttering, "I want to help him."
Ursa thought this was almost too easy. She'd expected a harder fight out of the infamous Violet Baudelaire, who Olaf claimed time and time again was too clever for her own good. But, she wasn't cleverer than Ursa, was she?
"Yes, you want to help him," Ursa repeated. "You know there's nothing your brother and sister can do. You know there's no way to reach out to them for help, so you won't even try, will you?" She paused while the girl shook her head slowly. "That's right. In fact, you don't want to hear from them. You don't want them to know you're helping Count Olaf because then they would hate you, wouldn't they?"
Violet nodded, muttering sleepily, "They would hate me."
Ursa was feeling quite proud of herself. "You're not going to try and escape, are you? You know Olaf will kill you if you try and murder your siblings when he finds them. That scares you, doesn't it, Violet? That scares you so bad that you won't dare try to escape."
Violet agreed with her. Ursa was nearly done with her, but wanted to add the cherry on top and make the inevitable the least messy as possible.
"Listen very carefully, Violet. Once you've taken him to the sapphires, you're going to have another urge. You'll find you can't fight it off. Once you return, you're going to walk right up to the top of those stairs in there. And once you're at the top of those stairs, you're going to turn around and fall right back down them, aren't you?"
Violet nodded slowly and Ursa grinned, imagining the younger girl dead in a heap at the bottom of the stairwell. That would teach Olaf to let his eyes wander.
"Good. Now wake up."
Violet's eyes snapped to attention, looking worriedly from left to right.
"Veronica," Ursa said, feigning an expression of worry which looked painful. "Are you alright? You began to sway."
Violet raised a hand to her forehead, her mind feeling a bit foggy. Ursa watched the girl's brow tuck in confusion. "Yes, I'm quite alright," Violet said. "I must just not be feeling as well as I thought."
"Come, then, let's get my last bag upstairs and you can lay down."
Violet took the woman's bag and followed her up the stairs, the heavy case giving a loud thunk on each step. Once she struggled through Count Olaf's bedroom and put it with the others, she turned to Ursa with an awkward smile. "Well, if that's all you need," she said.
Ursa opened her mouth to dismiss the girl, but Olaf yelled from the next room, "Veronica! Come here!" She watched the expression on the girl's face with dismay and realized her mistake. Violet's eyes clouded for a moment, then she left the room without a word or look toward the woman, as if in a trance.
"Shut the door," she heard him say a moment later and her face grew red when she heard the heavy door click shut. Ursa had messed up again. This happened in the early days, when Georgina and she were little, just practicing hypnotism on the neighborhood kids. The two thought it would be good sport to have a slave and, once their little friend Mary was under their suggestion, instructed her to do everything she was told. It was in the wording and Ursa was furious with herself for making the same mistake twice. Little Mary did do everything they told her to do. But, she also did everything anyone told her to do.
Sick with jealousy, Ursa crept out into the hall and pressed her ear to the door. The two inside were discussing some mountain, talking in hushed voices. Oh, she bet Olaf just loved that, having the girl locked away with him in some room while they plotted. Furious with herself, she went back to the bedroom and flung herself on the bed, face screwed up in wrath. Well, she would just have to deal with it for the time being. His fun would be all over once they retrieved the sapphires and his precious Violet took a tumble down the stairs.
It was the only thought that calmed her enough to fall asleep, trying to ignore the fact that the two in the next room had been in there for quite some time.
Olaf was…surprised, to say in the least. He'd called Violet in to show her an alternate route that they may be able to take earlier, as it was not as prone to harsh conditions as the rest of Mount Fraught. Now she was spread out across the floor on her stomach, brow tucked as she poured over the map.
"We could start here," she was saying, voice quiet, "If we did that, we could follow the Stricken Stream until here." Olaf looked to see her finger now rested on a valley.
Her plans were largely going unheard to him. Olaf was just astonished that she was so eager to help. It contradicted everything and suspicion was creeping into his mind with each word she spoke.
"Violet," he said in a hushed tone, knowing how voices carried in the house and not wanting Ursa to overhear. "I thought you said you meant to buy time. You're far too eager to help. Whatever you're up to, you're a terrible actress."
He watched as she looked up, a strange expression on her face as if she were trying to figure out for herself exactly why she was helping. "I'm not up to anything," she said slowly, brow tucked in thought. "I just want to help."
"Why?"
The poor girl looked confused and shrugged. "I just do. I want to do whatever I can."
Perhaps she was bored with menial housework. That much he could understand – he'd always found chores rather dreadful. But, still…there was something just not right.
"If you're so eager to help," he prodded, "Then why won't you tell me the exact location of the sugar bowl and sapphires?"
Again, Violet seemed terribly confused and he was starting to get an inkling of what happened. He would kill that woman for meddling. "I…," she paused, expression nearly pained. "If I tell you, you might go ahead and kill me."
"Yes," he argued, "But if you truthfully wanted to help me, then you would tell me where they are, wouldn't you? That way we could plan accordingly. So, Violet Baudelaire, if you want to help me out so much, then tell me where they are on Mount Fraught."
The statement was meant to be rhetorical, to prove a point. To his great surprise, and fury, Violet's eyes unfocused. "I don't know," she said, a tired tug in her voice. "I won't know until we're there. I have to use my ring to find them."
That was all the confirmation he needed. "Stand up," he said, voice growing louder. Violet again did as she was told, that trancelike look in her eyes. Olaf grabbed ahold of her chin and examined her. "What did you and Ursa talk about?" he prodded, watching the way her pupils quivered in the low light of the room.
Violet felt confused, things rushing around in her head, this way and that. What had they talked about? "I…I can't remember well," she admitted. "She had me carry up her bags and then…that's all, I think."
Count Olaf's expression frightened her. She wasn't sure if his wrath was directed toward her or not. Violet wasn't sure why it would be – she'd only been in there helping him with the maps – but it was a terrible look and made her shudder.
"You stand right here and don't move, do you understand me?" he said, fingers digging into her chin. Again, her eyes went glossy and she nodded. Olaf dropped his hand and stalked from the room.
Now, it wasn't polite to pry, but it was hard not to at the amount of screaming that followed. It only confused Violet more and she began to feel like she had when her fever first started, like her head was in some cloud. The entire conversation couldn't be heard, but Count Olaf was screaming accusations that Ursa was meddling in things that weren't her business. He also seemed to want to know what all Ursa knew, but Violet wasn't sure what she knew about. Ursa was screaming that he didn't want her, that he was obsessed with that girl for months. A chill ran up Violet's spine as she looked to the wall and all the hard work he'd put in to capturing her. But the thought of Count Olaf wanting anything more than her money was ridiculous. This was Ursa's jealousy that Alec warned her about – nothing more.
No matter how much she wanted to move, to run downstairs to Alec, she was afraid to. Count Olaf had told her to stay still and she didn't want to anger him further. For some reason, she wasn't sure her legs would move, anyway. It felt as if her body was betraying her, holding her hostage on the spot.
Then there were the sounds of things being shattered, wine bottles probably. Count Olaf accused her of being sloppier than her sister, whatever that meant. Violet thought there was no one in the world as sloppy as Count Olaf. Ursa screamed, defending herself, saying he shouldn't keep things from her and she was only trying to help.
Through a series of thuds and yelps, it became obvious that the two were either physically fighting or…physically making up. Both were horrifying to Violet, who still found herself unable to move and now trying not to listen, should they be doing the latter.
All at once, though, the house grew silent and Violet knew they'd been fighting and only one was still standing. When the footsteps came creaking through the hall, even and unaffected, she wondered which face she would see. She wasn't sure how she felt when Count Olaf came through the door and gave her a tired look. "Women," he muttered, then collapsed in his chair.
Violet stood still and looked at him, unsure of what to say. The silence flooding from the bedroom was eerie and foreboding.
"Ursa blamed you for the death of her sister," he said simply, unsure where to start or even how much to tell her. His anger toward his ex-girlfriend had his stomach in a knot and he was trying to cool down to think straight.
"Her sister?" Violet said, a look of abhorrence crossing her features. Unless her sister had been in the fires…
"Dr. Georgina Orwell," he said, picking up a half-empty wine bottle and taking a swig. Violet sucked in a gasp of air. Before she could answer, Olaf continued, "Ursa was a hypnotist, as well. She hypnotized you."
Violet had a sudden feeling of violation. "She…what?"
"She hypnotized you," he repeated. Of course, Violet had heard him the first time, but thought maybe he'd misspoken.
"No, she didn't," she argued. "I only carried in her bags for her."
"Stand on one foot," Count Olaf suddenly said, watching her eyes fog up as she lifted one foot in the air. "See?" he added.
Violet's face was once again muddled with confusion as she put her foot down in a hurry. "But," she began to say, then paused. "But, I didn't realize what you were doing when you said that," she said, trying to make sense of it.
Count Olaf, while angry about Violet being hypnotized, found this amusing. "Fine," he said, standing with a triumphant smirk. "Hug me."
Violet's eyes went glossy and she moved across the room, wrapping her arms around the man and clinging to him. Olaf watched her eyes sharpen, then look rather horrified as she took a step back.
"That's…," she was sputtering, "I…"
"You wouldn't have done that of your own freewill," he said, turning toward the door. "Unfortunately, we have more pressing matters. We'll have to deal with you in the morning. Tonight, however, you're going to help me carry something. It's rather heavy and will need two people to get in the trunk of the car."
Count Olaf wasn't sure how he felt went Violet's eyes glossed over and she nodded, stepping behind him to help. One on hand, he was furious Ursa would meddle in places where she didn't belong. On the other hand, however, a compliant Violet Baudelaire took Olaf's mind to those dark places again.