XXIII, May
My dearest friend,
Once again, a week has passed since I've touched quill to scroll. Somehow, it seems more like half a season since we've last corresponded—so much has happened this past week that I feel more displaced from London and our world back home than ever before. When I last received your letter, I had you pondering over Grandmama and Sander's peculiar behaviors. Though I found few clues as to Grandmama's "other engagement", I was quite accurate in my assumption that Sanders meant no good in inviting me to the Festival. But I am getting ahead of myself. I will start at the beginning, so as not to leave out a single detail.
The days before I received your letter, I diligently cleaned Grandmama's house and outdoor kitchen, as per Her Excellency's orders. I wasn't sure why Grandmama had me cleaning again so soon—I had barely finished dusting and washing the windows two days earlier—but I didn't dare argue. Ever since Grandmama announced that she would have another "engagement" on the day of the Festival, the tone of her voice has become even more final than before, if that's possible. I know this will sound farfetched, but the way Grandmama was going about it, you would think that she expected a beau that weekend.
I received your letter two days before the Festival and…oh… before I say anything further, I want to thank you dearly for the beautiful ribbon you sent me. It went perfectly with my dress. Now, if only Sanders hadn't ripped it from my hair…but I am getting ahead of myself again.
Soon after I received your letter, Alin came over to tell me that Mrs. Ogden wished to speak to me on the subject of a Carrier. She must have heard that I was planning to buy one— she hardly lets a rumor about a business prospect pass by without investigating it. At least, that's what I thought, until Alin told me that a Gypsy woman had forced the bird upon Mrs. Ogden, specifically requesting that she have it given to "a young lady of English instruction, who goes by the name of Rus" —notice how she chose to say my name the Romanian way.
Gwen, I wasn't sure what to make of this. Why would a Gypsy woman want to give me a Carrier?
After Alin had delivered his message, I managed to slip out of the house to meet with Mrs. Ogden at the Carrier Station. When I arrived at the Station, the most beautiful pigeon I had ever set eyes on stared at me through the window. Its white-tipped wings were spread wide—the pigeon had obviously been fighting to get loose of its confinements before I had come along—its light blue feathers were thicker, and brighter than those of any pigeon I have ever seen, its eyes smoother and more focused. I chuckled silently to myself as I observed the "hair"— which was actually a cluster of tiny feathers—sprouting from the bird's head, giving its face a most daring and comical expression. In the end, what caught my attention most about this bird was its size—from head to tail, it stood at a remarkable half an arms length, and its wingspan was almost twice that. In fact, I have come to think that, although this bird's resemblance to a pigeon is outstanding, it must be of a different breed of birds completely. In the end, I was sure of one thing only—I knew from the onset that this was the bird Mrs. Ogden was meant to show me.
After seeing that beautiful bird in the window, I was determined to leave the Station with a new Carrier. Luckily, Mrs. Ogden was just as determined to rid of herself of her new merchandise—so determined was she, that I wasn't even pressed for a payment. Thus, I now have a Carrier—and I have chosen to name him Doran, which, from the remnants of my Greek instruction in London, I know to mean "winged gift".
Although I accepted the responsibility of taking on a Carrier, I hardly knew how to help familiarize Doran with the trip between Sacala and your father's estates. Consequently, the next day I lured Alin away from his work at the Carrier Station, and had him observe Doran's flying. We were both pleasantly surprised, and a bit fazed to tell the truth, to see how quickly Doran took to the instructions he was given. When provided with a list of dairy products that Grandmama wished to buy from Auntie Maria of Codomark, Doran sped away quickly and returned in a matter of minutes. His return to Grandmama's house was not unexpected—grown Carriers are quick to orient themselves with routes they have already come across. However, the fact that he found his way to such a remote part of the town, without so much as faltering once in his flight, was quite remarkable. Auntie Maria had Lisabeth bring over the dairy products, and a private note for Grandmama that I failed to glance at, later that day.
I'll be testing Doran's flying to a greater extent when I send him with this letter. It is unlikely that Doran has ever traveled this route before. Even so, Alin and I both agree that it is worth sending Doran on this flight, if only to discover what other unknown talents he possesses. The worst that may happen should he get lost, I expect, is that he will return home with the letter, and you will receive word from me a bit later than you are intended to. Somehow, I don't think this will happen, but we shall see.
Now, for the Festival, which I am sure you are anxious to hear about. The events of the Festival are still very fresh in my mind, as it was only yesterday that Sander's knock on Grandmama's door provoked me to descend the crooked steps of the house dressed in garments I had not sported for over three weeks. There I stood in my blue indigo dress, your matching ribbon, and Mama's white silk shoes—you know, the ones with the silver buttons and paste stones—silk gloves, and beautiful silver amulet.
At first, I was quite flustered. It was near impossible to miss the stares I was receiving from Sanders, his mother and younger sister— it was a surprise to see that Evalina, who would be around Cassie's age, was to ride with us to the Festival with us—all the while having Grandmama's ominous presence at my back, whispering warnings of the punishments sure to follow If I were to exercise any inexcusable behavior that night. I soon reclaimed my composure, and, trying my best to ignore the glow that had suddenly crept up the back of my neck and threatened to turn my entire face red, I took Sanders extended arm and descended the front steps.
"Hmm—don't you think you overdid it, Addie-of-the-city? Although I must say, a change in attire was clearly in order," was Sanders first remarks that night.
"What—" I began, and then I remembered our little encounter two weeks ago, "I…oh…just stuff it, Sanders." I wanted to say more, but I could still feel Grandmama's glare behind my back. However much as I might have tried to ignore it, Sanders did bring up a valid issue—would I feel out of place in my city dress?
As we walked down the stone path leading to the front gate, I paid careful attention to the tiny crevices in the ground that threatened to ruin Mama's shoes. When we were well out of Grandmama's range of hearing, I questioned Sanders about Evalina's presence at the Festival.
"Is it wise," I asked, "to have the youngster attend the Festival with us?"
Sanders, however, appeared not have heard me, and continued leading towards his family's carriage.
As we walked towards the carriage, I was suddenly overcome with shyness. Though I have known Sanders and his family for a little over five years—from the time they first moved into Old Radu's house in Codomark—his face, of the three, is the most frequent I have seen about town. His little sister, a quiet companion of my sister's when she visits Sacala, makes occasional appearances, but his mother avoids town events like the plague. I could only imagine the unease generated by any conversation I would be having with her that night.
There was plenty more I would have liked to ponder in that moment, but I had to suspend my thoughts as we neared the carriage.
"Good Evening Mrs. Boyd, Eva, it is so wonderful to see you both," I said upon reaching the carriage door.
"It is nice to see you too," said Mrs. Boyd who, regardless of her words, looked none too pleased to be sitting in that carriage on her way to the town hall.
Sanders and I took the front seats of the carriage so that he could steer the mares. The carriage ride to the town hall was as brief as can be expected, seeing as how the town hall is close enough to make riding in a carriage a formality, not a necessity. As we arrived, we watched a group of town inhabitants disembark Mr. Sorin's large communal carriage. From out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of bright pink and blue garment, and I was flooded with relief as I realized I would not be the only one sporting Western fashion at the banquet. A few girls, like Silvia and Marioara, had their prosperous parents import gowns—some more elaborate than mine—specifically for this event.
As I slid from my seat next to Sanders, I couldn't help but notice how different the town hall looked. Someone had gone through a lot of trouble to make this day special for the Sacalans. Above the three main doors hung lovely gold and silver banners, each with the emblem of the magical party the town currently supports—the Alchemist Party. The walls of the town hall, which had been coated with Deliberate Dye, were constantly changing colors—every so often they went invisible, providing us with a clear view of the inside. Large statues of a cloaked Bendis, the Goddess of the Moon and Magic, and Făt-Frumos, the Romanian Prince Charming who, in his statue, appeared to be chasing away the dragonlike Zmeu, were positioned on either side of the main gates.
People were talking enthusiastically, and Carrier Pigeons were flying by the hundreds across the courtyard—delivering last minute reminders from the family members left at home, love notes and rumor notes from overenthusiastic ladies, and letters asking for the meeting place of the gathering following the Festival…for, of course, no one intended to leave at Midnight, when the doors to the town hall would close behind them.
Everyone was so elega—oh my Gwen! Grandmama's having a fit! I think she's just thrown a plate against the kitchen door. I'm in my room at the top floor, so I'm unable to see what is causing her rage. She's yelling for me at the top of her lungs, so I suppose I must go. I'd love to tell you all about the Festival in this letter, but if I leave now, Grandmama will keep me so occupied that I might not be able to finish it for weeks. So I'm going to send it off as it is; I know you would be worried to not hear from me for so long a time.
Please take care of yourself and Cassie. And yes, although this letter has come too late for my advice to affect your decision, I do believe Cassie would do well to have a puppy to play with.
Your friend always,
Addie
XXVII, May
Dear Addie,
Bless you for accepting and sending your letter with Doran! He truly is a "winged gift." Now I suppose I'd best explain why I am so glad you sent him, but before I do so, I must add that I hope this letter finds you none worse for the wear, since your grandmother's temper tantrums are infamous.
Now, the truly tricky part is deciding where to begin. I suppose I'd best start almost where your letter left off… It was Tuesday morning and Papa, Cassie, and I were sitting down to a formal breakfast (why Papa bothers to have them when there are only three of us, I'll never know). Then, William came in.
"Yes, William?" Papa asked.
"Sir, I'm afraid that I have disturbing news to report," he replied.
"Well, out with it," Papa said. Then, glancing in our direction, Papa (sadly) remembered to send us out of the room. I made sure that Cassie did go to kitchen for something to eat, but I lingered and stooped at the keyhole in the hall.
"Sir, I'm afraid that the tales about the ghosts may have some truth to them," William said. "Numerous reports have come to me from people of the house and of the surrounding estates. I have summarized what they have told me. It is as follows, sir: Cook tells me the firewood for the kitchens has been replaced with greenwood, resulting in a smoky fire, while things that are left to set overnight have been taken or tossed around. Gamesmen have had their trailmarkers moved and, as a result, have wound up tripping their own snares and hanging in the air or falling into their own pits – fortunately, those without spikes. Similar reports abound sir. The blacksmith has lost his tools and the baker's flour is constantly found strewn about. This mischief always occurs at night, sir."
"But that's nothing!" Papa exclaimed. "Any boy bent on causing trouble could easily do the same! And I highly doubt that, if the rumors are true, old soldiers would try to frighten us away with such paltry tactics," Papa retorted.
"Sir, I would be inclined to agree with you, but villagers have reported seeing, from a distance, glowing figures," replied William.
"Couldn't that be done with the Power?" asked Papa.
"I wouldn't know sir," answered William.
"Then send Mr. Chalmers to me and have the remaining reports of the estates waiting for me, please" asked Papa.
"Very good sir"
"Thank you."
Moments later, Mr. Chalmers came in (fortunately not through the door that I was standing in front of!).
"Chalmers, have you heard of these ghosts?" asked Papa.
"Yes, sir. And I'm guessing that you want to know if they are truly spirits or mortal mischief-makers," Mr. Chalmers replied. Papa nodded.
"Well, from the reports of the villagers, the glowing doesn't seem to be any Power-produced light that I've ever heard of – without further information, I will just have to guess that they are unsettled spirits," said Mr. Chalmers.
Papa nodded his thanks and Mr. Chalmers left. Papa looked exactly how I felt – rather contemplative and worried. How in the world am I to deal with spirits?
After finding out this disturbing news, I became quite settled in the thought that Cassie should have a dog, no matter what storm comes from Aunt Beatrice. So, I called Cassie and we went out to the kennels, where we met with Sean, the master of the hounds. Basically, the moment we walked in, Cassie threw herself on the ground with the puppies, while Sean and I talked.
"'Morning, ma'am, what can I do for you?" he asked.
"Please, Gwen will do. I am – or rather Cassie is, looking for a dog," I replied.
"Well, these ain't real ladies' pets – they's hunting dogs," Sean said doubtfully.
"I'm fully aware of that. I was thinking we wanted a dog with a lot of spunk that's easy to train. A big dog would be nice too," I replied (and then, in hushed whispers, I told him about my worries about the ghosts and how I thought a little extra protection wouldn't do Cassie any harm). Sean told me he had just the right type of dog and he showed us to a pen where seven or eight puppies romped on the floor. Addie, they are the prettiest dogs I have ever seen! Each dog was long and leggy and they all had long, silky, deep red fur. When I asked, Sean told me that they were a cross-breed, part Irish setter and part Irish wolfhound. He then added that, full-grown, he expected the dogs to be three feet at the shoulder! Now, I must say, if I thought I was infatuated by the lot, then Cassie fell head-over-heels. Almost instantly, she chose the most playful of the group, cuddled him in her arms, and named him Rex. After that, there was nothing else I could do. She carried him into the house as proudly as a new mother carrying a baby.
Sadly for me, Aunt Beatrice found out rather quickly…Fortunately, although I did not know a particular spell, I used raw Power to block out her indignant words (I realize that brute force is not as efficient as herbal spells and much less efficient than spoken ones, but I couldn't stand it!). Sadly, I released the spell too soon and I heard her say…
"And who knows what your father is thinking! Letting you run around doing whatever you'd like! It's not appropriate for a young lady! I'm having one of the servants fetch that mongrel out now!" she exclaimed.
I gasped – how she insulted Papa!
"Well! Aunt Beatrice, you may have failed to realize this, but Adamine left Cassie in my care, not yours and I deem it best that she be allowed to keep her dog. I trust you shall respect my wishes in this matter," I replied in my snootiest, coldest voice. Aunt Beatrice looked flabbergasted! Then, she sniffed her nose and left. I believe I've won the battle, but I'm rather afraid to see what punishment she will think up for me.
For the next couple of days, nothing much happened. I helped Cassie train Rex (who is proving to be most intelligent), working at my books, and practicing my three spells under Mr. Chalmers' watchful eye. Then, Thursday morning, I was awakened by a loud crash. I leapt out of bed expecting trouble – I mean, I wasn't going to let a ghost ruin our family house! But as I stepped outside my room and looked downstairs, I saw (what seemed like) hundreds of trunks in the hallway. Then I remembered – my cousins were arriving today. I dashed back into my room to change and then rushed downstairs to greet them all.
Since it's been so long since we've seen them (I barely recognized them), I'd best give you a description of each of them to show you how they've changed. Timmy and Tessa are now eight and the cutest pair of twins you'd ever hope to see. They both have big brown eyes and chestnut hair with a hint of "troublemaker" about them – much like their father, Uncle Wilfred (though much less red in the face). Fortunately, they are nothing like the Hardbottles. Josephine, who is now eleven, will truly be the beauty of the family, with her blonde hair and brown eyes. Despite her growing attractiveness, she remains quiet and her personality more closely reflects her mother, Lily – both are quiet, calm, serene, and sweet. David, being our age, has the twin's coloring, but is not quite such a troublemaker, although he gladly recounted the escapades the three of us had four summers ago. I am glad that they have finally come, since their will be more people for Cassie to play with and keep her mind off the ghosts. In fact, I hope that David will help me deal with them.
As they all got settled, there were loads of hugs and kisses to go around, along with a pleasant chat over tea, scones, and the like. Later that day, I went with David out for a ride, since I thought it would be a good time to explain to him the current situation. I realize that his parents will find out, but I don't know if they will see it fit to tell him (after all, Papa sent me out of the room) and I certainly don't want the twins or Josephine to find out – no need to have more frightened children on our hands. (Oh, and you should have seen how they all got so excited when Cassie showed them Rex!)
Anyways, back to the ride…
"So Gwen, what was this 'important matter' you had to speak to me about?" David asked.
"Well…David, do you remember when we were traveling through Germany – when Addie and I were coming back from Romania and we met up with your family, from their travels, to go back to England?" I asked.
"Yes! That was one of the best times I've ever had! The leaves were changing colours, when our families stopped to rest, we chased each other among the trees…and the ghost stories – remember how spooked we were when my father told those stories at night, even though we were almost always safe in a hotel?" he said, grinning cheerfully.
"Yes, I remember. Now about those ghost stories…" I began.
"And that one time – I hid frogs in your bed and Addie's after we heard about the dead man who walked from the swamps! How you two screamed!" he said with a chuckle. Then, he added, "Of course, you two did a good job of getting even – who would have ever thought of that snapper turtle in my drawer? I could have sworn that Mortuitus' rats themselves were after me…still do have a scar on my finger," he said, glancing at his right hand.
"Oh, I am sorry about that…" I hedged.
"It was fair," he said with another grin.
"But, David, what I have to say is much more serious. It seems that there really are ghosts in this area. The Hardbottle brothers (and here David gave me a look, which I can fully understand) say that they are dead Roman soldiers who are upset that they failed to conquer the area and, for some reason, they are choosing to cause mischief now. The local people have seen them, Mr. Chalmers believes that they could be real, and minor, real, problems have occurred," I blurted out.
"Mr. Chalmers believes that they are real?" David asked incredulously. I nodded and he seemed to take the situation much more seriously.
"Well then, I suppose we must come up with a plan," he said. "I suggest…"
But I was never to find out what he suggested since, at that moment, five giant rats appeared! Not the normal nasties that we see occasionally roaming around, that the cats must gang up on to catch, but rats that must have been two feet long with another foot for the tail, weighing thirty pounds! The most remarkable thing about them was that their eyes glowed, and I do mean glowed, red and that there seemed to be a faint haze about them. Now, Addie, you know that David might be a very nice person and quite brave, but no matter his talents in these areas, he has never been a very good horseman. When Star saw the rats, he reared up, turned tail and fled, while my own Silver was cavorting about, trying to avoid getting bitten by the loathsome creatures.
Then, the most amazing thing happened. Doran suddenly alighted on a branch above and started cooing in the oddest manner. It was if…if his coos had some magical ability – they seemed to resonant as a bell rings, even after you stop striking it. I seemed to have blacked out for a moment, for the next thing I recall, Silver was standing calmly, while the rats lay dead on the ground. They no longer looked menacing – much more like regular rats and they seemed to be rotting a little. Doran was still sitting on the branch and watching me. I was tempted to get off to look at them more closely, but then I heard a whinny far off and I remembered David's plight. I galloped off in the direction of the sound and I saw that the two of them were already close to the stables (as we had only penetrated the woods when we saw the rats).
I rode back as quickly as possible, to be met by a scene.
"What's this boy!?" shouted Uncle Wilford, "Why are you rushing back in such haste?"
"I'm sorry father, but Star was frightened by some rats and he ran off with me," said David shamefacedly.
"What! My son, not being able to control a horse! It's a disgrace!" uncle yelled (you know how proud he is for serving in the cavalry). "I see that you are not being worked hard enough. Your uncle tells me that Adamine and Gwendolyn picked up good riding skills in Romania – you're off there as soon as you've packed," uncle decided firmly.
"But Uncle Wilford, you should have seen the rats; they're not natural creatures – do come look at them with me," I pleaded, since it certainly was not David's fault.
"Posh, girl. I realize that you're sad David is off, but the experience will be good for him," Uncle Wilford said. And that was the end of the matter. In fact, since Uncle Wilford so smoothly dismissed the matter, no one else has paid any heed to my words about the strange creatures, not even Mr. Chalmers. I suppose that I will simply have to deal with the matter myself.
So Addie, I send this letter to you to tell you to expect David to arrive any day (though I believe that he will be staying with the local horse breeder, about a mile out of town – what was his name again?) and to thank you for sending Doran with your letter – he truly is gifted! You must try to find out more about his talents. Oh, and please do not think that I would ever use my Power to teach a Carrier its route – it truly is wrong to force an animal to learn that way - not that it is painful, but it certainly denies the trainer the bonding experience with the pigeon (or falcon). I would only do so if it was an emergency situation.
I am still most anxious to hear about the Festival and what do you think was meant by the gypsy's statement of giving Doran to a young lady "with fair blood"? I hope that you can unravel these mysteries, for I surely can't.
Oh, and I wanted to say – Good Heavens! What was that crash? Addie, it sounds like we have another family moving in…but everyone expected is here and I know Mama and Margaret can't be back this soon. I'm afraid I must go and investigate.
Your best friend,
Gwen