“Someone was here before us,” Jacques said as they pulled up beside the small building.
Its door stood wide open, the glass windows shattered.
“Apparently.” Ben’s stomach dropped. He wanted to ignore it, but there was an answer to the mystery already. He thought about the letters again as he wandered into the darkness of Lamotte’s office. A little light shone through from outside, enough for him to see how ruined it was. Chairs overturned, broken pieces of shattered glass, books on the floor with strewn pages; and his desk with its clear surface. Some drawers had been pulled out, but the one on the bottom was left undisturbed.
I need to get in there.
He was surprised that it had been left untouched, but then, it blended into the desk and it was dark. Whoever had stormed in had made quick work of the place, tearing it apart without the knowledge of what it was hiding. Still locked, Ben surveyed the floor around his feet, dropping to his knees to dig through the debris. He patted around until a flash of silver caught his eye. He reached for it—a heavy silver letter opener.
“Let us hope this is sturdy enough,” Ben muttered. The desk was heavy and old, a work of art. He bit his lip as he wedged the silver tip of the opener into the thin crevice of the drawer. Once its lip had opened a fraction, he reached for the heaviest book on Lamotte’s floor and brought it down with great force—over and over again—until it popped the lock and the drawer came free.
“I hear voices—hurry!” Jacques hissed from the door.
Ben pulled the drawer open and retrieved the thick file that Lamotte had shown him days ago. Tucking it safely under his arm, he hurried to his feet and breezed through the door. Mounting their horses again, they made haste for the manor.
REMI
Voices roused Remi from sleep. She’d heard them outside the window but had rolled to her side instead of searching for the source. Her eyes had been heavy at the time, but a moth had perched itself beside her on the tuft of her pillow. Its wings batted softly, the familiar array of colors and shapes demanding her attention.
“I know you,” she whispered, and it moved.
The moth fluttered away and Remi sat up, shocked by the number of moths covering every surface in her bedroom. Some took flight when the bedroom door creaked open. Remi found herself gaping at the silhouette standing halfway in the darkness. Moths clung to his shirt and hair, another covering one of his white eyes.
“Edgar,” she breathed. “Why are you here?”
His mouth stretched to a yawn, releasing a strangled cry like the creak of the door from his translucent chest. It was loud enough to disturb the creatures that had woken her, sending them into a frenzy. Remi held her arms up to cover her face, hoping it would not wake Elise, who slept beside her.
“I don’t know what you want,” she hissed under her breath, fear gripping her.
When the moths settled, she looked back at the door. Edgar was gone, and they were chasing after him. Remi had followed him once before and had stumbled upon Ben. He didn’t seem to want to harm her, only to get her attention. She pushed the covers back and climbed from the bed without waking her cousin. Tiptoeing across the floor, she followed Edgar and his moths.
He was nearly a blur between them and the darkness, but she could make out his figure all the same. She felt in her gut that he was leading her to the study, but she doubted she would find Ben there again. The manor was quiet, the only light piercing the shadows was a fire burning in the parlor. She saw Martin lounged in a chair, a small book open on his chest and his eyes closed; lost in some dream outside of reality.
Where is Ben? she wondered.
A moth fluttered by, brushing against a wisp of her hair—as if tugging her along, like a child beckoning its mother.
“I’m coming,” she said, swatting at it gently. It fell into line behind the others.
At the end of the hall, Edgar waited by the door.
The study. But why?
Twice Edgar had brought her there, and when he disappeared inside again, the moths dispersed into dust. Remi opened the doors, swallowed by the dark within. At its center, beside the display, he waited. Watching her with unblinking eyes. Without his mouth ever moving, she felt his voice echo inside her head from a memory from weeks ago.
The moths led the way…he’d said about the petrified specimen in its display. My family holds my treasure…
“What are you trying to tell me?”
Remi crossed to the center of the room, beside the display. Edgar did not withdraw or vanish into thin air. His figure moved like smoke—in and out of form, he blurred between a solid body and an ethereal being without form. He watched her, expressionless.
“I wish you had left clues,” Remi said to him, frustration rising in her. “What could you have meant? What are you trying to tell me?”
His mouth opened as if to speak, but his head whipped around—drawing Remi’s attention as the fireplace suddenly came to life. A rush of fire burst from the burned wood and ashes inside its hearth. Edgar was gone before she could learn anything else, and the fire had not stopped growing. As if it had grown arms and hands, it reached out to her, screaming.
Remi felt its heat too close to her face and turned to escape before it could consume her. But the doors slammed shut, stopping her halfway. Blocking her from the only exit was a new figure—a phantom born from the fire. It wore flames like a second skin, and though its true figure was charred and ruined, she could see its face for what it had been.
“Lamotte?” she gasped.
He bellowed from the door like the fire in the hearth. His painful cry reverberated in her ears and head. Remi screamed and backed away from him, but her foot caught against the rug and she fell back onto the floor with a hard thud. Something else moved beneath her as the rug curled under her legs, caught between her body and the floor. Remi did not stop screaming until a face appeared above her.
It was Elise.
“What happened?” her cousin asked as she helped her stand.
Remi shook violently, barely able to speak. “W-why are you here?”
“Shh, let’s get you to bed,” Elise murmured. “Maman and Papa are here too, and we don’t want to alarm them.”
Elise tried to press her again, but Remi wordlessly curled into a ball under the covers. Silence had sewn her lips together, and Lamotte’s flare scorched a terrifying image behind her eyes.
CAUGHT
BEN
The moon peeked over the top of the manor as Ben and Jacques approached.
“I’ll take care of the horses,” Jacques said as they dismounted. Ben nodded, heading to the front door when it surprised him by opening.
