The manse was dirty and nearly deserted. The few people she found were the kind of mercenary scum that even her father wouldn’t have hired, yet many wore the garb of the household guard.
Her enemies still lingered, but they never came near her any more. Sometimes she seethed at the thought of what they had done to her and hunted for them. At other times she was almost grateful to them, for they had shown her the way out of the darkness and the pain. Mostly she wanted to see them, to find out what they were. Then she’d decide what to do about them. Were they supernatural beings? Or ghosts? Or agents of some other power?
Where is my baby? she wondered suddenly. Then was amazed that the thought hadn’t occurred to her before. How could she forget her only child? Her little boy. She must find him.
But it was too late, she could feel herself being pulled back. Elaine didn’t even fight any more, she knew there was nothing she could do to stop it. At least she didn’t have to be there all the time. Before she was sucked back into her ailing body, she saw that the candles had burned down quite a bit.
When next she woke she heard the voices of children! A girl’s voice echoed in the distance, calling to her. At once Elaine found herself in the corridor and for the first time in a long time sensed the presence of those horrors who had abused her so. She called out, This way! Round the corner of the hallway came a small group of children, two girls and two boys. They looked exhausted as well as frightened.
Hovering over them, Elaine saw her enemies for the first time. They looked like tendrils of black smoke, writhing and twining in and out of a central blackness, and they projected fear and an icy cold.
This way, she called again, pointing toward the door of her chambers. Over and over she shouted to them. At last one of the girls seemed to understand, leading them to her door. They piled into her room and slammed the door shut behind them.
Elaine swept toward the black cloud furiously, snatching at one of its tendrils. It pulled back, retreating slightly, keeping just close enough to tease. Rather than waste her energy, Elaine went back to her room and hovered protectively over the children, pleased by their presence, delighted by the littlest one; he was perhaps seven or eight years of age, and despite being very frightened, he carried himself well.
She sensed her enemy lurking in the corridor, but it did not attempt to enter. It was only then that she saw the warding on her walls, traceries of light, of command, of this-shall-not-change. Perhaps someone had heard her pleas for aid after all.
As she listened to the children talk she found that they were desperate to escape. It saddened her that they found her as terrifying as the entity in the corridor, but she supposed she couldn’t blame them. If only I could help the poor little things. Elaine peered into the corridor; the thing snickered at her and she withdrew.
As she looked around her room she sensed an older warding and sought it out. She went through the wall and rediscovered the hidden passageway there. Her husband had shown it to her the day he installed her in these rooms. ‘They go all through the manse,’ he’d said.
She saw the youngest boy staring at that wall, and something in his eyes told her he was on the verge of understanding. She spoke to the girl who had led the others to her rooms, telling her about the passageway, telling her the key was in the sculpture on the wall. Soon she could see that she was listening. She got up and went to the carving, testing all the little projections until she found the right one. Oh, bright child! she thought.
Then she was out of time again, being drawn back to her body. She might never find out how this ended and was frustrated indeed. She wished she could wake up for good.
When she next awoke, Elaine wondered about the children, especially the girl who seemed to hear her. As she pictured her she suddenly found herself beside her. This had happened before, but she had no control over it. She would think of some person or place and find herself there, but only within the confines of the manse. She’d never yet been able to even enter the rose garden. But she did have access to everywhere and everyone inside the house. Except for Bernarr. When she thought of him she found herself in the presence of a much older man. An uncle or cousin, she’d assumed, since she knew his father was deceased.
She didn’t really mind that he never came here any more; she hadn’t loved him and she didn’t miss him. But she did want to see her baby and her little one must surely be with the Baron. She sighed and the candle one of the boys was holding flickered.
‘Be careful!’ the oldest girl almost cried, her voice sounding very loud in the passage.