Author's Note: Hello again, Fanfiction! Thank you for all of the reviews and support that you guys are giving me for this story! I really appreciate it! Here is chapter 12. Chapter 13 will be up in a few days (since the chapter was so long that I had to split it into two parts) but I'll be taking a break after that since we're going on holiday for a week and it's the holidays. I'll try to update as soon as I can though. Again thank you very much and if there's anything that I can improve on please let me know! Plant peace for the planet, see you around and all of keep safe, well and happy! Abbie XD XD XD XD


Chapter 12-Meeting in the manor

"Whoa! S…so this is the 'Blood Manor'- that all of the villagers in St Mystere are terrified of?!"

"It would appear to be so, Clive. As I said before: looks can sometimes be incredibly misleading and deceiving to anyone at the best of times."

Clive nodded slowly, oblivious to the professor's words of reassurance as he drank in every visible detail with extreme awe. The rest of the group began surveying their surroundings with an identical attitude, eyes widening and scanning every inch of the hallway with interest and incredulity. Truer words had never been spoken by Layton as far as they were concerned; no one would've even dared to imagine that the dark, deadly towering building standing isolated from the world that had been the only thing to greet them upon their arrival could house such magnificent, luxurious furnishings fit for royalty. No one would've believed that the bricks stained with the fresh blood of unfortunate passers-by and carried the odour of death cunningly hid an array of gorgeous and exquisite rooms like a mystical treasure-filled cavern in a fantastical dream. Flora gasped in amazement, struggling to resist her temptation to stroke her smooth fingers across the shimmering surface of a dark mahogany table. One thing was for certain though, having only caught a brief glimpse of the vast amount of contents that the manor held: Reinhold Manor itself seemed like a dilapidated, decrepit construction in comparison to the imperial, impressive state of Blood Manor-well, the inside at least.

"Why…why are people so scared of this place?" Flora asked in a bemused manner as she finally averted her gaze to Myra's sudden dubious expression, "I mean…the outside of the manor looks quite frightening but the inside is…beautiful."

Myra nodded gratefully at the girl before a pained sigh left her lips,

"Well…the villagers of St Mystere certainly have a good reason to fear this place, that is for sure," she answered gravely, "I suppose…I suppose you may see for yourselves later…but I just…if any harm comes to any of you from being here then…I will find myself completely responsible and shall probably never forgive myself…"

Luke's head jerked upwards at her words, fear tickling his body with numb icy fingers.

"If…if…if any harm comes to u…us from being h…here? What do you mean by…that?" he asked, dread creeping into his tone.

"Oh, I'm not saying it will at all!" Myra interrupted quickly in an encouraging tone, "I just…don't want to take any chances and…I don't think anywhere around here is safe at the moment…not with her around!"

Flora closed her eyes in respect whilst trying to blot out the endless visions in her head of the screaming sorceress wrenching the life out of all who dared wander into her grasp with her diabolical magic.

"What I don't understand is…why the Sorceress of Darkness is doing this. What does she hope to achieve?"

Myra swallowed the lump in her throat and turned to Flora with an expression that portrayed bitter sadness and resentment.

"Please, I think we'd appreciate it if you didn't call her that. Please refrain from addressing her as in that way," she stated in what was meant to be a polite tone even though it dripped with hatred and her fists were tightly clenched when she spoke.

The professor placed a hand to his chin and frowned slightly, peering intently at the woman's beautiful yet dismayed face. Her paleness was rapidly burnt away by a searing fire of fury as it burned through her cheeks and left glowing furnaces in their place. Seeing Myra acting this way only added to his curiosity as he wondered in the back of his mind what had occurred to make her detest the Sorceress of Darkness so much; not even the residents of St Mystere seemed to hold as much bitterness or resentment towards her as the woman currently standing in front of him did- the whole village had been attacked by the sorceress herself on multiple occasions. Even Myra must've realised the sharpness of her tone, since she took a deep breath to compose herself and glanced apologetically at the questioning expressions peering back at her.

"I'm…I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I...hold a great resentment to her and her little sect," she apologised in a calmer tone, making sure to add a great emphasis on her words, "A…anyway…if you would care to follow me through to the main hall then you can make yourselves comfortable. It's…the least I can do."

The professor smiled gratefully at her as he stood aside to let his assistants pass first, who still hadn't completely recovered from the awe and majesty of the inside of the manor.

"You are very kind, Myra," he spoke warmly, "You have our most gratified thanks-we are extremely grateful to you for your permission to stay here."

The woman bowed her head low and brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ears.

"You are all more than welcome, Professor," she answered quietly as she swept past him to the end of the hallway, "Perhaps the answer to my prayers has finally come…"

The hallway seemed to stretch for miles ahead of them as they proceeded orderly down the corridor after their host. No one spoke or made a sound, other than the occasional soft tread of footsteps as their feet brushed against the glossy crimson carpet, for their eyes were firmly focused on the variety of notable remarkable features and furnishings that were arranged systematically around room. The walls were covered in luminous, lustrous licks of paint that glinted softly like rubies and garnets in the flickering light through the several crystal oil lamps that lined the walls in glowing rows. Their light danced gracefully across the hall, illuminating each of the group's silhouettes as they cautiously walked past, gradually fading to dim dying stars enclosed in their crystal houses. Mahogany furniture filled the entire hallway, having been polished thoroughly until Flora could see her own reflection. She quickly fixed some of her loose strands of hair into a tidier position before continuing. She almost failed to supress a quiet giggle as Clive and Emmy tried to pull several uproarious expressions at each other through the precious elegantly shaped looking glass that allowed them to see the other's distorted, bizarre features.

The professor would've normally shaken his head in disapproval and told them to act politely and sensibly in the presence of their host but the thought didn't cross his mind once; he was delighted and incredibly relieved to see the two having fun together once again. Instead he let a small smile cross his face as he folded his arms and peered at them with an amused countenance which succeeded in tearing their attention away from the peculiar object.

"Sometimes I find myself revisiting the puzzle over how old you and Clive really are," he told them with a smile, "Neither of you can ignore the fact that you both possess a child's heart deep down."

Emmy smacked her hands on her hips as her eyebrows instantly fell downwards. She glared playfully around her.

"Hey! I'll have you know that I'm a full grown woman! I am completely organised and possess most of the qualities of an adult! If someone here acts like a child then it's Birdie standing right here!"

"Oh sure thing, 'Old Emmy', you're just too proud to admit that you're the one acts the most like a child!" the boy shot back with a smirk on his face, "I don't suppose you know that whilst we're standing here arguing about something completely pointless the rest of the group are patiently waiting to continue?"

Emmy instantly closed her mouth, blushing a little as Luke and Flora peered up at them in an amused manner. Clark and Brenda were fighting valiantly to keep straight faces as the two 'grown children' sheepishly followed them.

"You're…you're right, Birdie. It looks like we'd better follow the others. I don't really want to get lost in a ginormous place like this!" Emmy pointed out, throwing out her arms in an exaggerated gesture to prove her point.

Even the corners of Myra's mouth were creasing into the tiniest smile as she rolled her eyes and stopped abruptly at the sleek, elegant midnight coloured doors in front of her.

"It…warms my heart to see people getting along with each other and grown adults still acting like naïve playful children. I…would give everything I possessed just to see one of my children smile…"

She sighed deeply and closed her eyes, a single tear glistening in the fading light as it stained the scarlet carpet below her with her undying sadness. The group exchanged brief confused and concerned looks before Myra forced open the doors, which appeared to be a rather strenuous task for her judging by the way her arms quivered as she held the doors open. The professor followed behind his assistants at a leisurely pace, having difficulty tearing his gaze from an array of golden framed oil paintings that hung smartly on the surrounding walls. Upon closer inspection Layton saw that they were a collection of fine portraits, each detail prominently being captured by the variety of vivid colours that gradually built up the main images of the paintings. At least a dozen colours had to have been used to make such fine pieces of art. The expressions and emotions of the people in the paintings appeared so realistic that he could just imagine them in flesh forms peering straight back at him. The majority showed a young girl, clad in an expression of pure pleasure and painted gowns of emeralds, sapphires, amethysts and garnets. Her hair was scraped back into a fiery ponytail which draped charmingly down her back whilst her eyes gleamed softly at her surroundings. Small and large frames decorated the walls, each one of them showing a similar picture of the young girl in the portrait in a different atmosphere, looking virtually unchanged apart from the elegant dresses that flowed to her ankles.

Clive also found himself mesmerised by the paintings as he tenderly stroked his fingers down the nearest one, being as gentle as he could without causing the slightest scratch or mark to appear on the painting's even surface.

"It's…it's completely stunning and so…striking," Clive stammered, utterly flabbergasted, "The artwork is such a professional standard. Did…did you paint these by any chance um…Madam Blood?"

Myra turned around to face Clive before quickly shaking her head in denial.

"Unfortunately I have never had the blood of an artist flowing through me, dear boy, so no. I had a professional paint the portraits and all I did was display them around the manor. I tend to feel proud quite often of my decorative layout organisation! What do you think, Professor Layton?"

The professor smiled politely in response as Clive wrenched his notebook free from his satchel. He hastily drafted a rough sketch of the magnificent portrait, being careful to include even the details which were less prominent. Emmy winked at him warmly as Clark, Brenda, Luke and Flora shot several quick glances at the paintings before following Myra into the desired room. The professor placed one hand to his chin in thought whilst carefully pointing his index finger at the unresponsive girl.

"Madam Myra, if I am not mistaken you told Clive just that these portraits were painted by a professional. They all look incredibly similar to each other; am I correct in believing that this is the same person in each of the paintings?"

Myra nodded tersely, folding her arms across her chest as she answered in a voice that carried a minute tone of impatience.

"Yes; that is the same person in each of the portraits," she answered with a dismissive wave of her hand, "It's nice to see your intrigue in them, Professor, but are the details of simple decorations so important?"

"Ah, please forgive me, Myra; the aura of the artwork simply piqued my interest. However, please may I ask who the person in the portraits is? Do you know them?"

"They truly are magnificent paintings, if I say so myself. I would never part with them for the world; they just fit in perfectly with the atmosphere of Blood Manor, wouldn't you agree?" she added before gesturing to the next room in a more exaggerated manner, "Oh why am I wasting your time with such trivial manners?! Please come into the hall. I've been nattering long enough."

Layton cautiously followed after Clive, taking one final glance at the portrait as a pensive expression flashed across his face. Any doubt that remained afterwards was instantly erased as he wondered into a vast, commodious room which was large enough to hold at least three identical full-scale replicas of his dusty office, excluding the winding staircase situated in the brightest corner of the room. The radiant marble steps smothered in shades of pearl were draped in a length of fine material that was indistinguishable to the duplicate scarlet carpet spread across the hallway. Similar carpets covered the floors of the manor also, apparently. The banister was made of pure glimmering gold and glinted in the light of the immense, dazzling chandelier hanging from a firm chain that was securely attached to the ceiling, its many arms inlaid in precious jewels and crystals. The walls were clad in a paler shade, allowing the many peculiar looking objects fastened to them, varying in size, appearance and aura, to appear more discernible from the group's current distance. The professor didn't know one hundred per-cent if he was correct in his assumptions but by the aspects of the outlandish items he had a feeling that they were some type of mystical charm or talisman (he'd seen a few when one of his students brought some back from her holiday in North America and had uncovered them at an excavation site).

Despite the gargantuan size of the room there were several areas that were yet to be filled with an array of exquisite furniture. The furnishings that were existent and already organised in a neat and proper manner really contributed to its unperturbed and imperial atmosphere: the tall, regal grandfather clock, whose sound echoed across the entire hall. A variety of smooth, velvet covered chairs displayed in a precise manner complete with a pleasant plush sofa positioned just a few metres away. A long, dark wooden cut table concealed by a mottled embroidered cloth supporting a glass bowl filled to the brim with luscious, delectable fruits. A chest of drawers in the same wooden material and fashion as the table located to the leftmost side of the room and a gigantic bookcase with its many shelves completely smothered in an array of bulging books that had to contain at least two thousand pages each. Quartz doors protected the precious pages with expertly carved elements of fauna and flora locked deep within its surface.

Clive had to grip his art-pad even tighter to stop it falling out of his fingers in his current bewildered daze. Luke also found himself shoving his hands in his pockets and trying to stay as close as possible to his parents to avoid the induce of leaping onto the soft sofa, which his instinct always told him to do whenever there was a settee in sight. He was also aware of the dangers of turning any of the precious decorations on display into worthless glass shards after one accidental, curious poke. Besides he knew better than to behave in that way; a gentleman simply wouldn't dream of such a thing. Blinking rather rapidly in disbelief and marvel, as though a supernova had taken place before her own eyes, Flora discovered herself spinning around in an almost complete circle in order for her to get a more accurate and clear view about the size and majesty of such a room. Whoever the Blood family were they seemed as wealthy as the Reinholds.

The girl's mind struggled to comprehend its splendour as her mouth dropped open in incredulity. The professor was just about to remind Flora that it was not polite for a lady to gape at something before he quickly realised shortly after that he would be in no position to do so since his own jaw was hanging in a rather ridiculous manner. His cheeks flooded with colour as he instantly composed himself and awkwardly closed his mouth, trying to ignore Clark's failed attempts to stifle his laughter in his sleeve.

Myra gracefully glided across the carpet to the foot of the staircase, resting her hand on the banister's shining surface as a small smile accompanied by a questioning, expectant expression crossed her face. Layton peered at her and adjusted his hat, still blushing heavily.

"Well, I must compliment your expertly organised nature to have decorated the room in this almost impeccable manner. I find it hard to believe anyone could've made it look so…arresting," he praised, his eyes scanning the still-stunned countenances on his assistant's faces, "It truly is remarkable."

"How on…how can this drab and dismal-looking building from the outside look like a palace on the inside?!" Clive demanded in perplexity.

"Clive! Don't be so rude to the kind lady!" Emmy scolded, elbowing him in his side with a smirk, "That's a pretty delightful and polite thing to say to your host of all people, isn't it! Hmm…maybe next time I should just freely stroll into your house and say: 'Oh my God, Clive! How do you keep such a normal house looking like a junkyard and having the odour of a rubbish tip?' Shall I, Illegal? How would you feel then?!"

The teenager folded his arms and a broad grin clothed his face.

"I doubt you can win that argument, 'Old Emmy'!" he answered back cheekily, "After all…we both share the same house! So would you say that about your own house, Emmy?!"

His victory was confirmed when Emmy suddenly fell silent and gritted her teeth together in defeat whilst smacking the back of her neck hard.

"Oh hardy ha-very clever, Illegal! I never knew you were such a genius!" she muttered sarcastically before conveniently remembering that their host had been standing a few feet away the whole time.

Shortly after it was time for her cheeks to burn like a furnace.

"Um…please excuse our comments, Madam Blood! We…we didn't intend to offend you in any way—"

"Please, dears, do not concern yourselves; I actually find you both quite delightful and you both have a healthy dose of humour inside of you," she interrupted kindly with a beaming smile to show that no harm had been done, "Well…I suppose it's partially due to the fact that the household no longer has any servants or gardeners. I prefer to live without them anyway for it makes one far more independent, wouldn't you agree?"

The professor placed a hand to his chin, unable to ignore the question on why the servants had all left such a seemingly harmless household, which had led to its outside falling into ruin, but he figured that it would be wiser to persist on this matter later; perhaps Connie could tell them, when they were properly acquainted.

"The Blood family must be exceedingly wealthy to own such a fine establishment!" Flora added as she strolled up to the professor warmly, "They seem almost as wealthy as the Reinholds!"

For a split second an array of unidentifiable and conflicting emotions crossed Myra's face as her eyes darted back to Flora, staring raptly at her as though she were absorbing every prominent detail of the teenager with supreme intrigue. Within what seemed like a millisecond she was wearing an even wider smile as her face glowed.

"Well…I guess you could say that. My parents were…fairly wealthy. As their only child I inherited their entire fortune from…quite a young age…"

She sighed deeply, suddenly seeming distant as her smile slowly melted away and an uncomfortable air blew around the room. It sent a feeling of iciness down their spines and a lump off ice formed in their throats. Myra swallowed and closed her eyes for a few moments, seeming to relive a particularly painful memory since her face kept jerking in emotional pain. Layton nodded in understanding, not wishing to pry into the woman's personal life if it caused her ill emotions. Wrapping a protective and affectionate arm around his adopted daughter he held her closely and felt a sudden wave of sympathy for the woman, hoping that whatever happened to her parents wasn't too agonising and that she didn't have to suffer too much when it happened. Flora peered up at her with saddened, empathetic eyes.

"I'm…I'm sorry…," she faltered uncertainly, hoping that her words didn't cause Myra more anguish, "I…I lost my parents at quite a young age too. They must have…they must have been very kind and loving to you since you still have an indissoluble bond with them…"

Clive flinched in surprise when Emmy instinctively placed a considerate hand on his shoulder, being lost in an excruciating nightmare of his parents' screams as their only home was devoured by the ravenous, merciless flames before it extinguished their own lives shortly after. Clark and Brenda's fingers once again entwined around the other's as they peered down at the floor with closed eyes in respect. Luke gripped Flora's spare hand and swallowed the already formed ice preventing his comforting words from forming. Myra sniffed and flicked her long fingernail across the tears brimming in the corner of her eye that threatened to expose her sorrowful feelings.

"Th…th…thank you for your…sympathy," she replied quietly, dabbing at her smearing makeup with the corner of her velvet sleeve, "I…appreciate your heart-warming words of comfort. I'm…grateful...it's truly a miracle that complete strangers of all people will listen to my troubles—"

"Not at all, Myra: it is the duty of every gentleman to listen to the problems of a lady and try their hardest to provide assistance and comfort in the matter."

Myra beamed, feeling exuberant and in renewed spirits, as she bowed her head appreciatively at the professor. She peered irresolutely in the direction of the staircase behind her as she folded her arms and addressed the professor in a tone that she was trying to make sound confident.

"Professor, if you could excuse me for a few moments I believe I should inform Connie of your arrival," she announced as she started up the stairway in a steady, graceful manner, "Please, until then, feel free to make yourselves at home. I shouldn't be too long. I…I presume she'll be in her room…as usual…"

Layton nodded in understanding as he finally released his overly protective hold on Flora.

"Of course, Myra-and please take as long as you need. We'll wait down here until you return and once again, thank you very much."

Myra bowed her head in reply as she took small and hesitant steps up the marble staircase, soon vanishing from sight. The moment she had disappeared Luke, Clive, Flora and Emmy all simultaneously made a frantic beeline for the sofa, shooting across the room towards it (apart from Clive who limped due to the pain in his leg) as if they were all racing for some priceless treasure legendary to civilisation. The professor sighed and pulled the brim of his hat over his face in disconcertment as all four of them vigorously dived at the sofa at the same time, which understandably resulted in Luke and Clive bashing their heads against the others'. Emmy and Flora on the other hand sat on the sofa as though it were a throne, somewhat proud of their 'achievement' to sit on it before the others. Luke and Clive rubbed the throbbing spot on their temples, gritting their teeth in pain as they peered apologetically at each other before the triumphant smirks that met their eyes informed them off their defeat. Clive sighed in agitation and narrowed his eyes at Emmy.

"That's not fair! Why can't we have the sofa?" he pouted in a childish manner, feeling the bruise on his face start to come out.

Emmy swished her hair behind her back and casually positioned one leg over the other as if she owned the place.

"Because you're slowpokes-is that a simple enough answer for you?" she answered boldly as Flora giggled uncertainly, "So be good gentlemen and let the ladies sit down, second assistants!"

"Hey!" Luke protested in mock annoyance before Emmy's statement dawned on him, "Um…well…I guess that is what a gentleman does for a lady—"

"Don't I deserve any special treatment, 'Old Emmy'?!" Clive persisted in a tone of determination, "I mean I was being held hostage just a few hours ago…so…Please? Pretty please?"

A slightly guilty expression crossed her face but she wasn't going to give up her latest form of 'fun' when the two of them seemed to be suffering so badly.

"We're on here-we're staying on here. End of story," she stated simply with a shake of her head.

She let herself sink into the luxurious supple fabric of the sofa and let out a contented, gratified sigh as the Luke and Clive stared longingly at them enviously. Flora bit her lip nervously and quickly retreated from the sofa sensing that something would happen pretty soon. Emmy made sure to spread herself fully across the remaining space, not leaving the slightest inch of room for Clive. Out of the corner of his eye a small spider scurried hurriedly across the mahogany table and the perfect process of revenge began to form in his mind.

"Mmm…this sofa is sooo soft," Emmy added dreamily, absorbing the looks of pure torture in their glaring eyes, "It feels like I'm lying on a cloud…I could sleep on this…and the cushions are as smooth as undisturbed water—"

"Emmy, I think it's time to give this up now—"

"Too right!" Clive exclaimed stridently as he tiptoed behind the sofa and gingerly dropped the spider in his hand onto Emmy's shoulder.

His actions, though they were most ungentle manly, had more than the desired effect on the woman; an aberrant ear-splitting screech rang around the room as she literally flew off of the sofa, looking as if she'd been hit by a stray bolt of lightning, frantically trying to brush the tiny creature off of her whilst she continued to squeal and flail around. The grinning teenager looked as though he might die from laughter as he and Luke immediately took their rightful seats on the sofa and continued to watch the non-standard scene in front of them.

"GET IT OFF! PLEASE GET IT OFF OF ME!" she screeched as the deafened creature jumped back onto the table in terror, "ILLEGAL YOU ARE SO GOING TO PAY FOR THIS! PROFESSOR! PLEASE KILL IT!"

Rather bemused but stunned by her vulnerability to such a harmless creature Layton ran to her side and tried his hardest to reassure her whilst Luke instinctively scooped up the spider in a panicked manner from the table and quickly hid it in the nearest place where it wouldn't be harmed. Flora, most surprisingly, peered at the spider from her current viewpoint and smiled at it adoringly.

"Please don't kill it! It won't do you any harm, Emmy!"

"Aw you're a cute little spider aren't you?" she cooed, "What a cute little baby!"

Understandably this did not make the currently eccentric woman feel better in the slightest. She was in such a state that she was very close to tears.

"YOU TELL THAT TO MR SKINNY LEGS, WHO ALMOST GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK A FEW YEARS AGO!" Emmy yelled in response as the professor advised her to take several deep breaths to compose herself.

He sighed and quickly scanned the staircase, hoping that the noise hadn't disturbed either Connie or Myra in any way. Brenda folded her arms and peered with raised eyebrows at the two grinning teenagers on the sofa.

"Boys you know better than that. Hasn't Hershel trained you well enough on how to be a gentleman?" she scolded them in a stern voice although it was plainly evident that she was suppressing a smile, "Apologise to Emmy and mind you behave on that sofa!"

Clark was grinning from ear to ear, finding it much harder than his wife to hide his feelings, as he raised his eyebrows at Luke questioningly; he was unable to believe that Emmy's weak spot lay in tiny arachnids. Brenda elbowed him in the stomach playfully.

"You can wipe that smile off of your face this instant, Mr Triton. You're meant to be setting an example to them! Perhaps I should organise some of Hershel's gentlemanly lectures for you when we get back to London—"

"If you say so, Mrs Triton-after all a gentleman always puts a lady's needs first…so I guess I really have no choice in the matter," Clark stated with a shrug of his shoulders as if he simply couldn't care less.

His wife could no longer keep her hands glued to her hips and instantly found herself encircled in her husband's arms as she stroked a smooth hand through his untidy hair.

"You never lose your gentlemanly charms, my love," she whispered softly as he kissed her lightly on her cheek.

It took a few moments for her to suddenly remember about the whole 'spider ordeal'.

"It would be best to get off of there now though, boys."

Luke obediently hopped off of the seat and joined Flora near the corner of the room.

"S…sorry, Mum. Sorry, Emmy…"

The professor shook his head but managed the tiniest of smiles.

"I believe Emmy has forgiven you both, but was it really necessary to scare her like that, Clive?"

The teenager in question shifted off of the sofa and tentatively approached Emmy, a guilt ridden expression enveloping his face. He stopped a few paces from her and sighed deeply to the floor.

"I'm…really sorry, Emmy. I'm sorry to have disappointed you too, Professor," he replied, hesitating slightly between his words, "It…was just meant to be joke to stop you teasing us like that. Luke had told me previously you were scared of spiders…but I never knew you had such a phobia of them...and…I'm really sorry to have scared you like that. I…I really am sorry…"

His guardian peered back at his glistening eyes, her face gradually returning to its normal colour although she still looked quite shaken up.

"Th…that's okay, Clive. You…you wouldn't know about m…my bad p…p…phobia. It…it was my fault for teasing you…really…I'm sorry too," she stammered as she wiped at her brow with her sleeve, "Just…just don't think I'm going to go easy on you next time!"

Clive breathed a colossal sigh of relief and straightened his cap before patting Emmy compassionately on the shoulder.

"I wasn't expecting you to," he answered as she gave his arms a sharp squeeze, "You can take your revenge in any way you want!"

"Oh, believe me-I will, Birdie!" she warned, almost suffocating him in a quick embrace.

The professor relaxed a little as Emmy's normal demeanour returned to her and Flora and Luke cautiously joined them again. The girl managed a weak smile at Clive and a sympathetic nod at Emmy as she pulled out a rosy luscious apple from the shimmering fruit bowl, which had surprisingly remained undisturbed in the struggle to the sofa. Still slightly guilty about the whole affair Luke didn't object when Flora handed him a stalk of juicy-looking amethyst coloured grapes; the whole incident was almost forgotten when the divine volcano of flavour erupted on his tongue.

"Are you…okay now, Emmy?"

"Huh? Oh I'm always okay, Luke!" she answered in a slightly superior tone as she peeled and wolfed down several scrumptious segments of an orange, "Well…I guess the sight of someone as tough as her own biker boots screaming over a spider of all things must've been pretty amusing! I'm alright though!"

Brenda and Clark quietly settled themselves on two chairs next to each other, hands firmly joined, unable to look at Emmy the same way again after the previous events that had occurred. The professor politely accepted a handful of grapes from Luke and patiently waited for Myra to return whilst Flora tried her hardest to swallow what edible parts remained of her apple, steadily growing more and more anxious as the questions about her sister increased vastly the closer they were to meeting with Connie. Clive's gaze however was averted to the centre of the rightmost wall, a few paces away from where he currently stood, enthralled. His eyes were fixated to another magnificent portrait, except unlike the others this measured at least five metres tall by three metres wide, proudly taking up the majority of the wall's space. Inquisitive, Flora skipped over to him and smiled in a friendly manner before following his gaze to the immense portrait.

At a first glance the only thing different about the portrait was its size: it was also framed in a glistening golden square and expertly painted with the smoothest of strokes, its colours just as beautiful and proficiently applied to the sturdy canvas. There was also a single figure in the painting, clothed in bright colours that seemed to shine in the darkest areas like the pictures in the hallway. However, the figure trapped within the oils was considerably taller and darker skinned than the previous figures, yet she was just as irrefutably stunning and engaging in her own ways. Her olive skin made her silk scarlet shawl and the fiery amber dress descending around her burn into their eyes, her gown licking the ground below her bare feet like ravenous flames. A small band was secured around her forehead, encasing a precious stone that shone softly like the moon. Half draping down her back in surprisingly untidy tangles and half secured in a high bun her agate tinted hair seemed to rise and fall around her, as if being blown by a vigorous breeze in a disturbingly mystical manner. Dark glistening eyes peered back at them, seeming compassionate and caring at first, yet there was an undeniable dark and deadly aura around her by the way her eyes glinted hatefully in the light.

Flora shivered and instinctively took a small step backwards away from the portrait, slightly disturbed and uneasy. Clive simply gazed at it again for the fifth time in a row, pulling out his sketchbook in a trance like state. The two teenagers had been staring at the painting so intently that they didn't notice that the others had joined them in intrigue, having been standing behind the two for quite a while.

"I guess Madam Myra certainly likes her paintings," Emmy commented quietly, blinking rather rapidly as she examined the picture, "Other than its colossal size difference it appears to be pretty similar to the others."

Clive flicked through several pages of his art pad before landing on his latest sketches of the paintings that they'd passed in the hall.

"At a first glance-however there's a different person in these sketches," he explained, pointing out the differences to Emmy, "and I believe that this woman is older…although there's an unnatural air around surrounding her…"

"Does…does the Sorceress of Darkness look similar to the image, Professor?" Flora asked, a tremor in her voice.

The professor placed a reassuring hand on his daughter's shoulder.

"Not particularly, although there are a few minor similarities," he answered with a thoughtful expression before examining the sketches over Emmy's shoulder, "I must say, Clive, these are very, very good. You really do have a natural talent in the world of arts."

"You certainly do, Birdie-and it's thanks to me being your perfect teacher!" she announced with a smirk before slapping the boy's shoulder and passing it to Clark, "Nah, I'm pulling your leg, Clive! You are seriously incredibly talented when it comes to drawing. I'm so bad I can't even draw a flea!"

"That's understandable, Emmy; fleas are usually just a few millimetres long so you wouldn't be able to draw one in much detail unless you had a microscope," Luke told her encouragingly, memorising what he'd learned out of his 'One thousand facts about animals' encyclopaedia.

Emmy smiled a little, feeling more encouraged. Clive blushed modestly as Brenda handed his art pad back to him, accompanied with several warm praises, as he placed it back safely into his satchel, unable to help feeling a little proud of his work. Flora nudged his shoulder with a bright smile and gestured to the portrait again.

"I really love your drawings, Clive!" she told him with a giggle, "In fact they've just reminded me of a puzzle about paintings that my father told me when I was younger. Would you like to have a go at it?"

The boy straightened his cap confidently.

"Yes please, Flora! I'll see to it that I fulfil your expectations like a true gentleman!"


Puzzle 19-Portrait perils (30 picarats)

Two sisters are left their deceased parents immense portrait collection, including some incredibly rare paintings. In their will they specified that the eldest sister would receive a set of paintings worth twice of what the youngest sister would receive. Determined to fulfil their parents' wishes the girls called in a specialist art collector who would verify the value of the paintings. In return the girls would give the art collector the left over painting from the division needed. The following values are given on the paintings:

A-£40,000

B-£190,000

C-£110,000

D-90, 000

E-£120,000

Assuming that the paintings cannot be split which painting does the art collector receive?

(Get this right and you will have 720 picarats)


"Hmm…I think that the most logical answer after careful deliberation would be portrait B- the eldest brother receives portraits A, C and D which is £240,000 and the younger brother would have to receive art worth £120,000-painting E. That leaves just painting B which the art collector would receive, as is the most expensive of the portraits too. Thank you for that puzzle, Flora! It was actually quite fun!"

"You…you really think so?" she answered modestly, immensely flattered, "Well…you're very welcome! Maybe I should have a go at making my own puzzles in the future-just liked the professor!"

Layton laughed and ruffled Flora's hair affectionately.

"That would be excellent, Flora dear, I'm sure you'd do a fine job. Then perhaps you can test them on us anytime you wish."

Gladdened by the suggestion and in renewed spirits the girl nodded vigorously with an excited smile.

"Oh, yes! I would really like that, Professor!" she responded with a dazzling beam, "Thank you!"

"You're most welcome, dear," he replied as he peered back at the staircase behind them, "All we can do now is wait for Myra to return, hopefully with Connie."

Luke nodded as Clive folded his arms and glanced around the room with a slightly impatient expression. Emmy titled her head to the side, as if scrutinising the portrait from every possible angle, frowning a little at an uneven area of its surface which appeared to be protruding outwards and was more prominent than other areas. The professor approached her with Flora, a questioning gaze in his eyes.

"What is it, Emmy? Is there something unusual you've spotted?" he asked in interest.

She gestured to one of the pearly beads making up a bracelet on the figure's hand. Flora blinked in confusion.

"That part of the painting's surface is uneven," Emmy explained as she turned to the professor, "but the question, Professor, is why it is uneven."

Layton studied the area closely and took several bold steps towards it until he was just centimetres away from the canvas's surface.

"I have no idea, Emmy," he told her as he carefully reached out to feel the uneven area, "It might be worth further consideration though if it—"

"Professor Layton, everyone," announced the clear and calm voice of Myra as she gracefully made her way down the last few steps of the staircase.

Flora let out a quiet sigh of relief as the group immediately approached the foot of the stairs, waiting expectantly yet feeling slightly anxious about how the turn of events would unfold. Myra glided to the side of the staircase with an appreciative smile.

"Miss Connie will see you now," she told them pleasantly as she extended a hand outwards to the stairs behind her.

Acknowledging the gesture Flora's eyes instantaneously focused on the staircase in front of them as the unmistakeable form of a young girl gently descended the staircase in gradual hesitant steps. The professor, Luke and Flora couldn't supress a gasp as her figure became clearer; there was no mistaking her identity although she had changed more than they'd expected over the past few years. She was of medium height and possessed an unnaturally pallid complexion, accompanied by a rather slender figure. Her fingers twitched frequently as she made her way closer towards the strangers below her, taking sharp and slightly nervous breaths to soothe her anxiety. Fastened in a low ponytail in a satin violet bow her hair consisted of a variety of shades, their tones ranging from dark, bold chestnut to a burning, bright crimson. Her eyes shone like peridots, a similar shade to a cat's apart from the purple glittery pattern on her eyelids. She had a tendency to blink quite often and she currently had her gaze on the smooth surface of the steps below her emerald sandals. Wrapped around her narrow shoulders was a bright burgundy shawl, which was fastened in place with a jewelled quartz brooch, to accompany the elegant and modest violet dress she wore down to her ankles. Patterned in decorative thread patterns, buttons and a pale pink sash at the back, it truly looked stunning on her fine figure. Clinging to her wrists were two dark bangles, a similar shade to the pendant hanging from a chain around her neck, encasing some kind of circular black gem.

Flora peered at her, gaping slightly, as the girl finally reached the foot of the staircase. Brenda, Clark and Emmy smiled gently at her in both a comforting and friendly manner. Clive, who hadn't been with the others and therefore knew hardly anything about her, simply stared at her youthful, frightened face, entranced, in a similar state as he was when studying the portrait just a few metres behind him. He straightened his cap and his posture, making sure to adjust his tie to a neater and more formal appearance. Myra smiled warmly and gave the girl's hand a benevolent squeeze as she rested her free hand on the banister and finally looked up to face the group.

"G…Good evening," she started politely in a quiet and amiable voice, "Welcome to Blood Manor. I…believe that you're now well acquainted with my wonderful guardian, Myra."

The woman blushed a little at her words and clasped her hands tightly to her chest. The professor raised his hat in greetings, smiling warmly at her.

"Of course. She has been extremely kind, letting us into Blood Manor like this," he answered in reply, "You would happen to be…Miss Connie Anthea Smith, if I'm not mistaken?"

The girl nodded to affirm his statement.

"You are correct-I am Connie Smith. Are…are you Professor Layton?"

"I am," he replied kindly, "and these are my assistants: Luke, Flora, Clark, Brenda, Emmy and Clive."

Connie shot friendly smiles at each of them in turn, radiating kindness with every glance.

"It's…a pleasure to finally meet you," Clive stammered, flashing a smile at her, trying to appear as gentlemanly as humanly possible.

The girl turned her head sharply at the noise, letting out a discreet gasp as she locked eyes with Clive for the first time, unable to take her eyes off his most striking features; his glistening eyes that appeared to carry so much care and consideration to anyone he passed, the warm contagious smile spread across his lips and the golden tint of his hair as it shone in the surrounding light. She pulled her shawl even more tightly around her shoulders and returned his introductory smile, feeling her cheeks burn almost as much as a roaring fire.

"L…Likewise…it's lovely to meet you too," she answered quickly, "It's nice to…meet all of you."

She found her attention being averted to the saddened look on Flora's face as she peered hard at her, unable to wrench her gaze away by her own will. She closed her eyes tightly and turned away as a few tears fell down her face. Flora's eyes widened and she watched Connie helplessly, feeling that it was her fault that the girl was suddenly upset. Myra sighed, hardly sounding surprised, as she patted her shoulder sympathetically.

"Connie—"

"I…I…I'm sorry!" she gasped as she wiped her tears away, "It's just…you…you look so much like…her…it's just…uncanny and I—"

"Connie, dear, you know yourself that she's no longer with us…you have to focus on the future. It's what she'd want-and besides the professor would like to speak with you. Please don't cry over such things—"

"I'll…I'll try not to…," she sniffed, peering apologetically at the professor and Flora, "I'm…sorry. I tend to get quite emotional most of the time…I just—"

"It's quite alright, Connie. It's perfectly understandable," he told her in a comforting tone.

Connie sniffed again and bit hard on her lip to stop any more tears from falling. There was a short silence between them before Connie spoke again, in a slightly nervous voice.

"M…Myra told me that you wished to speak with me. I…I'll help in any way I can…but what did you want with me?"

The professor raised his hand slightly to ease her anxiety.

"It's okay, dear, there is no need to be worried or frightened in any way," he assured her, "We…wished to seek information about a girl called Seryna Reinhold—"

"S…S…S…S…S…Seryna?" she faltered, her face paling, "H…h…how? How did you know about…h…her? Are you…well acquainted with the Reinholds? The main family of St Mystere?"

Flora sighed deeply and peered empathetically at the startled girl.

"We're…well acquainted with the Reinholds of St Mystere," she answered honestly as Connie looked at her in surprise, "I…my father was Augustus Baron Reinhold…he passed away a few years ago…and…Seryna Reinhold…she was…my older sister…"

Myra's head jerked and Connie gawped in a disbelieving manner at the girl.

"You…you were Connie's friend's sister…and Baron Reinhold's daughter?" she babbled, utterly bewildered, "Then…then…are you…Flora Reinhold? The current heiress of the Reinhold fortune?"

Flora bowed her head and nodded.

"Y…Yes…I am Flora Reinhold, although some people in the village refer to me as 'The Golden Apple'."

Both Myra and Connie let out audible gasps of astonishment and revelation as they both eyed each other in shock. Connie's face was steadily growing whiter and her pupils were widening until they resembled black pebbles. She began biting hard on her nails and her hands appeared to be trembling, but what from was unidentifiable in the current situation. The astounded girl appeared to have been struck by a lightning bolt of stunned amazement, paralysed with the many emotions currently flowing through her veins. Myra also looked surprised, with her eyebrows arched upwards and a questioning look glinting in her eyes. She clenched and unclenched her fists rhythmically, still allowing the news to sink in, before either of them finally found the courage to speak again.

"So…so…so...Seryna is also your sister?" she gasped, still rather startled, "How…how did you find out about this? Mr…Reinhold visited me frequently after…what happened…and I heard about you from him…but he told me that he wouldn't tell you until the right time. How did you find out?"

"I discovered my mother's real grave underneath her statue in the gardens of Reinhold Manor," Flora explained slowly, "She had two shrines there; one dedicated to me, the other to Seryna. I…was confused so I investigated and…found out everything."

Connie clung to the banister again, dazed, as if trying to wake up from a dream.

"She was your best friend. Wasn't she?" Luke asked her quietly.

Connie swallowed and managed a stiff nod.

"Y…yes. She was and always will be my best friend…we cared so much for each other. I knew about her illness and I'd come to her house to cheer her up and we'd do fun things together. We had our future planned, although it was rather fantastical back then when she didn't have…long to live anyway, but…that was torn away from us…over a decade ago…"

She blinked rapidly and clenched her fists tightly to stop herself from crying again. Myra sighed sadly and peered at Flora.

"Dear, are you…aware of the…fate that overcame young Seryna?"

She nodded forlornly in reply.

"I…I am," she stammered, trying not to cry herself, "Bruno…he told me everything when I found out about her. About…how she was…believed to have been…killed by…some dark being…no one could save her…"

Connie turned to Flora again, this time speaking in a slightly confused tone.

"I…I know…I…still haven't recovered from the shock of that day. Why…why do you want to ask me for information about her? There isn't really anything that can be done. I…was forced to accept that she had departed several years ago but I'm still…trying to—"

"We wish to find out the truth about what really happened to her," Layton answered in a serious voice, "Flora's home village, St Mystere, is currently the target of an evil sorceress who is performing an array of despicable horrors for the village and she vows not to rest until the village is crushed and the Reinholds are annihilated. We were invited to the village and after witnessing the destruction decided to try and put an end to this sorceress's evil deeds. However, after further investigation, we strongly believe that the mysteries of this sorceress and the disappearance of Seryna Reinhold are heavily connected."

He paused for a moment before looking at Connie again with a serious expression.

"My dear, we know that you were probably the closest person to Seryna and you've managed to overcome all of the obstacles that life has thrown at you," he told her in a kind voice, "If we desire to pursue these mysteries further it would be extremely useful if we had as much information about Seryna as we possibly could. I sincerely apologise if it's truly painful for you to remember, Connie, but we'd be eternally grateful for your help and assistance in uncovering the truth."

The girl hesitated for a few moments, her foot wavering in mid-air next to the previous step behind her, as she mused over his request. Myra looked on questioningly at Connie, tapping her fingers lightly against her forearm as Connie eventually managed a determined nod.

"Seryna was my best friend-and she was taken from me by some unknown forces. If an obviously intelligent man such as yourself believes that this sorceress attacking St Mystere has something to do with Seryna's disappearance-then I shall not rest until the truth is revealed," she answered boldly as she descended the steps until she was at their level, "The least I can do is find out who is responsible and…hopefully put an end to their diabolical crimes! I…owe it to Seryna…and I suppose I owe it to you too, Flora."

Flora's face lit up like a beacon of fireworks.

"So…you'll help us?" she asked hopefully as the group let out a discreet relieved sigh.

Connie continued towards them until she was just a few metres away from them, before allowing a wide smile to envelope her face.

"Of course I will!" she announced, slamming her hands on her hips assertively, "I've waited all of my life for this endless mystery to be cleared up forever! Oh thank you! Thank you so very much!"

The girl found herself almost gasping for breath as she found herself found captive in Connie's thin arms, embracing her in a hug of eternal gratefulness. She appeared to be shaking slightly, presumably of joy rather than fear or the cold at the current time. The professor smiled warmly at the two girls as Luke poked Clive to bring him back from the blissful, pleasant heaven of day dreams that he'd briefly succumbed to whilst staring at Connie again. Emmy smirked behind her hand, desperately wanting to say something that would embarrass him in at present, but a loud and commanding clap from Myra interrupted her.

"Excellent! Fantastically splendid!" she declared favourably, as if she was the one who'd asked her in the first place, "Thank you ever so much, Professor! I'm sure she'll be of great help to you in your investigations!"

"Oh no, it is you and Connie who should be receiving the thanks, since you're willingly assisting us in our case," he replied politely, "Would it be possible to talk to Connie for a few moments?"

"Of course, Professor! By all means have as much time as you wish!" she answered cheerfully as she unfolded her arms and turned to face Connie, "Connie dear, would you like to have a long and private conversation with our guests in comfort whilst I finish a few errands? I'm afraid I must excuse myself, Professor, but the dinner won't finish cooking itself. I always cook more than is necessary and there's always plenty to go around. Here, I'm sure you've all had a tiringly long journey and you're all completely famished-why don't you all stay for the night? We have plenty of rooms that are more than perfect for accommodating you—"

"Oh no, Myra; we couldn't possibly accept such a kind and considerate offer—"

"Lucky I've done the jumbo roast dinner tonight," she interrupted again, gliding gracefully across the room in response to the professor's objection, "I'll be about one hour and then I'll let you all know when dinner's done. Until then Connie will sort out some rooms for you and you can talk till your heart's content until dinner. I simply won't have 'no' for an answer, Professor! Plus I'm sure Connie will really appreciate the company too."

She turned back to face them, a suddenly grave expression on her face.

"However there is one condition that I must ask you to understand," she told them in a slightly stern voice.

Emmy whirled around to face her, slightly confused.

"Um…sure? What…what condition is this exactly?"

Myra inhaled for a moment before her face took on a sinister look.

"Under no circumstances are any of you to go near the room on the leftmost side of the landing at the top of the staircase," she warned in a dangerous tone, "Please consider this request-you will regret it if you don't…"

She immediately flashed them a genial smile as if her previous words hadn't even existed.

"Well I'd better be heading over to the kitchen then. I'll see you later, dears. I do hope that Connie can help you-and remember that if there are any problems then I'm only a few doors away. I'll see you later then! Enjoy your conversation!"

She waved at them one last time before gingerly closing the door behind her and proceeding in the opposite direction. Emmy stared after her, mouth gaping open in shock, exchanging perplexed glances with an equally bemused Clark and Brenda. After what seemed like an age Connie finally released her tight grip on Flora, stepping backwards a little with her arms folded. Her eyes practically glowed with excitement and fortitude as she peered at the professor.

"Well then, where do you propose we start? What do you want to know first?" she asked, possessing a confidence one hundred times more powerful than before, "We can sit over by the table if you want, where we shan't be disturbed."

Without waiting another second she swept quickly through the room, skipping towards one of the seats as she threw herself down on it vigorously. The others instinctively followed her, although Luke and Clive were exceedingly careful about their speed to avoid their heads colliding together again. She grinned widely at them from her current position and gestured to the sofa and the two other chairs. The professor peered uncertainly at the sofa.

"Wouldn't you be more comfortable on the sofa, my dear?" he asked her politely, "A gentleman puts the comforts of a lady before himself."

Connie let out a quiet laugh as she shook her head.

"Oh I'm more than alright, Professor!" she answered enthusiastically, declining his offer with a wave of her hand, "Besides it is always the tradition that the needs of a guest come first-since we rarely ever have guests!"

Unable to accept her offer the professor positioned himself on one of the spare seats whilst allowing Clive, Flora and Luke to huddle up together on the sofa. Emmy also gave up her position on the seat to allow Clark and Brenda to sit down for a change, since she'd told them that it was the polite thing to do (in truth she was still rather frightened that Mr Skinny legs' clone would come back for her). After positioning themselves in as comfortable a position as they could manage Connie clasped her hands together before placing them in her lap and getting straight down to business.

"Tell me everything," she stated simply, a hungry expression in her eyes, "Please tell me everything about the attacks on St Mystere and about this sorceress that you say is attacking the village!"

Although the whole course of events took quite a while to explain the girl didn't even interrupt once but sat back and listened to their account of everything that had occurred so far whilst conflicting expressions frequently crossed her face. Each of them took it in turns to explain the scenario to make it easier to understand but not a single bit of information was missed out. Flora explained to her about the sorceress's 'messages' to the village and her mystical acts that Lady Dahlia had told her about: the fires, the tornados, the abductions, the beastly creatures. The girl was clearly having a hard time trying to comprehend the sorceress's actions; she'd occasionally let out a gasp of horror or manage an expression of pure biliousness and terror. She appeared slightly confused when Clive began telling her about the Death Dogs and what they'd done to the village as she mulled over the thought of such creatures existing.

"Um…I'm really sorry to interrupt but…it seems quite unnatural for this sorceress to call these 'Death Dogs' from Hell, as she put it," Connie interrupted quietly, still discombobulated, "I mean…she'd have to be immensely powerful in order to do that. Creating a tornado would be a piece of cake compared to raising part of a species from the dead!"

Clive peered at her for a moment before clearing her doubts.

"Well…it turned out that these Death Dogs were actually robots created by the caretaker of St Mystere, Bruno. This wasn't actually caused by the sorceress's magic…so does that mean that the Sorceress of Darkness is just a fake? Besides why would Bruno be keeping them in his secret basement thingy if that wasn't the case?"

Connie sat bolt upright, starting to tremble.

"You could never be more wrong," she started slowly, "The Sorceress of Darkness is indeed as real as the ground beneath our feet. I know what she can do…she has caused so much pain and suffering for many people…including us…but do you really believe that she could be connected to Seryna's disappearance?"

Layton placed a hand to his chin in thought.

"It's a high possibility, given all of the current factors. It's no coincidence that Flora discovered the secret under her mother's grave and learnt part of the truth."

"Connie, um…did you ever get the feeling that my sister possessed some kind of…um…magical or unnatural powers?" Flora asked in interest, "Apparently my powers were first recognised by Papa when I was really young. I've only just come of age now though and can start to realise my full powers. Papa could see into the future and when…Mother died…he left her a prophecy that explained about some mystical power that flows in the Reinhold blood. So…I was just wondering if Seryna had any such powers."

Connie thought for a moment, seeming to get more and more excited with every query exchanged.

"Well…not exactly 'powers' as such," she explained, "she did sometimes have a strange aura about her though and was obsessed with fantasy stories and mythology...but not really in the sense that you talked about yours…unless…she had hidden powers that no one apart from herself and these…dark creatures…were aware of…"

"I…I see," Flora answered, sighing a little.

"Um…Anyway…what else was written in your father's prophecy?" she asked in interest.

The girl was rather surprised by her question but cleared her throat to answer.

"He…he mentioned something cryptic at the end…about when times were at their darkest and…about attracting fruits of power and…something strange about an 'apple dark'," she replied deliberately, trying to recount the rhyme written on the faded parchment.

Connie's eyes widened and she began biting her lip whilst peering down at her lap. Flora paused and studied her curiously as the professor blinked in astonishment.

"You wouldn't by any chance happen to know what that means, would you?" he inquired suspiciously.

She inhaled sharply in reply, gritting her teeth as she forced a nod at them.

"I…I might have some idea…," she began quickly, "but…I can't be entirely sure if that's what he's referring to…"

"What do you mean?" he pressed in interest.

"I…I cannot say just yet…I'm…I'm really sorry...I just…can't…"

The professor straightened his hat and watched as she guiltily averted her gaze.

"It's okay, Connie. You can just tell us when you feel ready."

She sighed regrettably in an uncomfortable manner before turning back to face the group, trying to avoid the wariness and doubt that still remained on some of their faces.

"Do you think you could tell us a bit more about…how you came to be here, dear?" Brenda asked in a polite but slightly hesitant tone, "Please don't feel pressurised though if it's too hurtful to think about…"

"No, Ma'am, it's quite alright. I…relive the memories every day," she answered in a fatigued tone as she swallowed hard, "It was…just under a decade ago. The years ran by swiftly like a countdown after Seryna disappeared. I just locked myself in my room and tried to tell myself that none of it was true. Mother tried everything to…make me see sense. Eventually I began to see that there was no way she'd be coming back and I agreed to start a new page of my life. It was…shortly after that…our house…went up in flames…I…I remember desperately trying to find my way out…somehow I escaped…b…b…but…Mother wasn't as…l…lucky and…d…died in the…"

She trailed off, choking on her sobs as Clive felt a strong rush of empathy for the girl.

"It's okay…," he whispered as he tried to soothe her pain, "she must've been a truly wonderful person-and she'd have wanted you to have a good and eventful future. I know how you…feel; my parents died in a fire as well…"

Connie dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her sleeves before staring hard at Clive in revelation, having no idea they had so much in common. She sniffed and looked at him with pity.

"I'm…really sorry to hear that," she faltered, closing her eyes in respect, "and…thank you…I'm sure that your parents would've wanted the best for you also. I'm so glad that you found a better future afterwards though…um…what was your name again?"

The boy felt his cheeks going red but managed to keep an unaffected composure.

"It was Clive," he replied in a smooth tone, "I hope I'm not being rude to ask but…what happened afterwards? The fire, I mean."

"I…was in a severe phase of shock: my home was destroyed, my mother was dead and I had nowhere to go…when your father heard about it, Flora, I heard he was deeply saddened and wanted to help…but Myra…with her delightful incredibly compassionate heart and her quiet and sensitive demeanour gave me a new life. She raised me to try and forget my troubles. It's working a bit better…but I still get those dreams…and those memories…no form of magic would be able to drive them away…"

Clive and Flora peered at each other sadly whilst a sudden thought seemed to be bothering Luke. Connie seemed to sense this also, for she'd turned her attention to him and resumed her thoughtful position.

"Is there something on your mind…um…Fluke?"

The boy would've face palmed if his question wasn't so serious. It seemed that he lived for people to mistake his name.

"It's actually 'Luke'," he corrected, emphasising his name slightly, "Um…actually…I was just wondering where Myra's other daughter is…"

The girl looked back at him with a bewildered expression.

"Other daughter?" she echoed as her eyebrows furrowed, "What do you mean exactly?"

Luke scrutinised her, as equally bemused.

"Um...you know…Lily, I think it was? There was something in the baron's files about Madam Myra having a younger daughter by that name."

Connie flicked her fingers rapidly as if only just acknowledging the existence of her 'sister'.

"Oh! Lily! Of course, how could I forget?!" she laughed in a foolish manner, "Well…she went out for something not too long ago and probably won't return until later this evening. Anyway!"

She glanced at the clock in the corner of the room to check the time before assertively rising from her seat and glancing up at the staircase.

"Myra shall probably have dinner ready in about a dozen minutes or so," she told the group as they followed her across to the staircase again, "I believe there is time to sort out suitable rooms for you before dinner. Come along then! I'll lead the way!"

Warily they began to ascend the stairs after her, their minds whirring with the information that they had acquired from her. About halfway up the staircase Emmy stopped abruptly and felt an icy chill trickle down her vertebrae as she cautiously stole a glance to the left of the staircase.

"Err…Connie?"

"Yes, Emmy, was it? What do you want?" she asked, spinning around on the top step.

"Um…do…do you know what's in that room?" she asked, biting her lip carefully, "You know? The one Myra told us we weren't allowed to—"

"Myra told you to stay away from it-so I think it would be wise to not ask any more questions about it," she interrupted in a rapidly serious tone, "Even I'm not allowed in there. End of discussion. I will show you to appropriate rooms but not that one. If you'd be so kind as to follow me…"

She turned and walked swiftly across the corridor, examining various doors as she passed. Emmy shot a questioning look at the professor as he placed a finger to his chin in thought for the second time. Unable to ignore how Connie had been quick to change the subject away from those particular subjects he tried to think of a reason behind it as he orderly followed the others after her.

"What do you think is in that room, Professor?" his assistant hissed in his ear.

"I don't know, Emmy," he whispered quietly to her so that Connie couldn't hear, "but I believe that Connie and Myra are hiding some important information from us…and I'll have to try everything I can to acquire it from them…"

As the two hurried on after the others the same pair of malicious glowing eyes that had scrutinised them since their arrival burned fiercely as a snarl escaped from the figure's lips.

"Trespassers- seeking information about her. She shall not deal with such interferences from nosy outsiders such as them!"

The figure turned its head to get a glimpse of the shaking brunette clinging to the professor's coat, licking itslips and cackling evilly.

"Flora Reinhold…the second daughter to Augustus Reinhold…you cannot hide from her forever…and I can vow now…that not all of you shall be lucky enough…to escape with your normal lives after tonight…"