Chapter 14: Wandering
“What do we do next?” I asked Fiona and Amy,” I can’t imagine that we have time to do a regular investigation.”
“We could use your precognition.” Fiona said, “Or my gift of sensing auras.”
“I don’t have much control over my gift. It happens when it happens.” I deflected, “And using your gift would mean that we have to go around and question people one by one. I don’t think those are options.”
Amy raised her hand, “You could try to force a vision, Lady Ren. I know it doesn’t always work. But it’s an option. Also, I can do more than I have with my gift.”
“Indeed? What else can you do?” Fiona asked.
I shook my head, “I’ve already got you bleeding for my sake. No, you’ve done enough.”
I wiped at Amy’s face with a fresh handkerchief. She brought her hands up and clasped them over mine.
“Ren. I have done this before. I do have control over my gift. It hurts a little when I push things. But this wouldn’t do that. But I would need you to watch over me and keep me safe.” She smiled.
I didn’t say anything.
Fiona steepled her hands together and spoke, “Your willingness to help is commendable. What would you do?”
“I could activate my power and let the link pull me to the strongest association.”
My eyes narrowed, “Pull? How would it pull you?”
“From the outside it looks as though I’m sleepwalking. And like sleepwalking, I am unaware of my surroundings. The gift prevents me from bumping into walls or falling down stairs. But my gift won’t account for people. So you two would need to run interference.”
Fiona nodded, “This is excellent. Exactly what we need.”
“It’s dangerous,” I said, standing and shaking my head. “If the traitor puts two and two together and figures out what we’re doing, it puts Amy in jeopardy.”
“Where is your loyalty to Lynn?” Fiona asked.
“You stopped me from chasing after her.” I said.
“Yes. But I did not intend for you to stop helping her.”
“She told me not to help.”
“And do you think she is safe on her own?”
I tensed. And I found myself clenching my jaw. I didn’t want to put Amy at risk to protect Lynn. I didn’t want to leave Lynn in danger to protect Amy. A layer of tears formed on my eyes and I struggled to contain it.
Amy stood up and wrapped her arms around me, drawing me into an embrace, “I can do this. Let me do this. I know you can protect me. I trust you.”
I swallowed. This was why Lynn wanted to follow the preset game path. If she did, then she could feel certain that things would turn out in a predictable manner. By playing outside the parameters of the game, I was in uncharted waters.
Amy squeezed me again, “Please. Let me help you.”
I sagged, and let my breath out- deflating against Amy.
“Alright. Amy, I'll protect you. Do your thing. I’ll have your back.”
Amy smiled and dropped a second peck on my cheek, and I smiled in spite of myself. She stood, her back straight, and clasped her hands around the badge a second time. Her gaze seemed to go distant, and her eyes developed a milky shine.
“She reached the state almost immediately this time.” Fiona said.
Amy began walking towards the door of the parlor.
“We better get that door. I don’t know if she can open that in this state.” I stood and strode past Amy to open the door.”
“She did not mention doors.” Fiona said.
“I’ll stay ahead of her. You walk beside or behind her so nobody bumps into her from behind.”
Fiona nodded.
We followed as Amy sleepwalked out of the parlor and into the drawing room. Lynn was speaking to her father in the corner. Several girls I recognized as distant cousins were playing a card game with tarot cards.
The Baron noticed us and furrowed his brow. He raised a hand and called to me, “Karen, child!”
“Yes, uncle?” I tried not to betray any worry.
“What is that maid doing?” My uncle asked.
My mind raced. I’d already exposed my relationship with Amy to Fiona. And while I trusted her to keep it secret, I didn’t want anyone else to know. What could I say?
“Amy has the mystic gift of object reading,” I answered, watching Fiona and Amy move away from me. “She’s helping us find a lost object. But I’m sorry uncle. I need to go. It’s like she’s sleepwalking and I can’t let her bump into somebody or worse.”
“Wait, what object? Where are you going?” Lynn asked.
“Something. Clothing I lost. Hats. Very nice hats. I want them back. I’m sorry Lynn. They’re getting away from me. I have to go!”
I scampered off as best I could. Ignoring Lynn calling after me. I caught them as they exited the drawing room and entered the smoking room. The fumes wafted at me like a wall of perfumed death. The walls of the smoking room had been madder red when the paint was new. They had since stained to a dark oxblood from the smoke. My great aunt Cecile looked up from an enormous cigar she had dipped in a cup of brandy. I only recognized her because Lynn showed me the concept art book for Moonlight Hearts. She didn’t appear in the game. She wore a white and cyan sack-back gown. The gown surprised me. Most of the fashion thus far had been from the nineteenth century. The sack-back gown hailed from the eighteenth century. I assumed that the designers were trying to emphasize her age. She wore what looked like a stainless steel chain necklace.
“What’s with the sleepwalker? Isn’t that your maid?” She asked, her voice a testament to the dedication she held to her cigars.
“Yes, she is my maid.” I nodded. “She’s using her mystic gift to track down a hat I lost.”
Cecile snorted, “You want hats, marry a milliner.”
“I’m gay, Aunt Cecile.”
“So marry a gay milliner, and do the dirty dirty with the maid. This one is cute. Start with her!”
I flinched, “Aunt Cecile, I am so glad she can’t hear you. I’ve managed to convince her I’m not a complete bitch anymore.”
“You’re not? That’s a shame. I always liked your sass. Scare the little buggers and keep them off balance. You should keep some of it, so you don’t get boring.”
I looked as Fiona opened the door from the Smoking Room to the Gray Room, “I’ll take that under advisement Aunt Cecile. I can always be a bitch special for you. But I have to go.”
She cackled at me, “That’s the spirit. Keep people off guessing. Hah! Now you chase that hot little piece of ass!”
I could feel my face heating up. “Not the goal Auntie, but thank you!”
I followed Fiona and Amy and closed the door behind me. The gray room was empty. And so we had a respite.
“Who was that?” Fiona asked.
“Which one?”
“The one with the cigar.”
“My great aunt. She’s a clairvoyant, and worked as an advisor to Duke Leon’s father years ago.”
“She has the most intimidating aura I have ever seen.”
“You should see her if she ever gets mad.” I answered.
“About Amy,” Fiona said.
“Careful there,” I answered.
“I can see why you like her. I like her. She is pleasant, compassionate and brave. She is also beautiful. And she is loyal and determined. She is a sweet girl. You both are.”
“I’m twenty one. I’m only seven years younger than you. In the scheme of things that isn’t a lot. Where’s the line between girl and woman?”
“How did you know my age?” Fiona asked.
“I have the gift of precognition, and my cousin was about to meet her suitors.” I said. I still hadn’t actually had a precognitive vision, but it was proving a good excuse to explain my knowledge.
“Oh indeed. I understand. But I had a point. I understand the attraction to your Amy. And though I worry about the consequences of exposure, I will not ask you to desist in your relationship. With luck, she will become my friend in the long term. And should we marry, I can hire her away from Castle Octavian.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I wasn’t sure it was fair to call her ‘my’ Amy. But I couldn’t articulate my objection, so I said nothing.
Then Amy stopped walking. We turned and looked. Amy was standing motionless in front of a small oak door in the back of the gray room.
Amy’s head straightened up, and she looked around. Turning, she saw us and clapped her hands, “This is it!”
I nodded, “Apparently it is.”
Amy’s smile faded, “What’s wrong?”
I pointed, “Look where you stopped.”
Amy turned back around and gasped. She took three steps back, as though the door was going to bite her.
“Oh no.” She whispered.
I nodded, “Yeah, big screaming oh no.”
Fiona looked at us, “Whose study is that?”
I looked at Fiona, “That study belongs to my father.”
Fiona nodded, “Oh no, indeed.”
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