Page 38 of The Curse of Indy Moore
I averted my eyes, refusing to look upon the reflection or let my hands touch the dress. The smooth fabric made my skin break out with goosebumps.
I grabbed a straw hat from the rack and tucked my ears into the bowl. Using the string, I knotted it around my chin to keep the ears hidden, even if they were crushed enough to make me cringe. Hopefully, I wouldn’t get used to the feeling. Then I threw open the door.
Otis waited in the hall wearing a better-fitting petticoat in a plain emerald tone to match his trousers and top hat. He looked every part the gentlemen, save those crooked glasses I would argue made him even more charming.
“My word,” he said and offered his arm. “The dress suits you. You are absolutely stunning.”
“It isn’t too much?” I asked nervously. “I don’t feel like I should wear it.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve never… These are not the type of dresses for a peasant girl. I couldn’t afford anything this nice.”
“What of it?” He squeezed my hand. “If you must be eased, think of the dress as a tool to be used for the day, to impress those who would look down upon you for the smallest slight, though I do hope a day comes when you can look in the mirror and be as wowed as the rest of us.”
“You are too kind,” I said and repeated to myself that this wasn’t a life to grow accustomed to. Once Mr. Hawthorne figured out my curse, this would end and I would return to my so-called outdated attire.
11
Where Indy Yearns for Escape
Thesummoningcirclewasas basic a name one could have because it was, quite literally, a circle etched into stone in the back garden. The flowers sprouted higher, forming a crescent, the points incapable of touching because of the path leading to the back door. Trees enclosed the circle, where nothing grew within the runes. Extraordinary shapes swerved together, spiraling into the center, where Otis and I waited for Mr. Hawthorne to saunter out more bedazzled than ever.
Simple wasn’t a word within Mr. Hawthorne’s vernacular. The impeccably constructed white suit accentuated his figure in all the right ways, further impressed by the gold lining and half a dozen necklaces suspended from his nape. A ring hugged every finger, and the golden heels of his shoes clicked like a lullaby upon which he finally graced us with his divine presence. But he paused, settled at the edge of the circle, his eyes upon me. I stiffened, worried I had done wrong, that I may have already stained or ruined the dress.
Perturbed by his silence, I gave a slight bow. “You have outdone yourself, Mr. Hawthorne. Thank you for the dress.”
Mr. Hawthorne chuckled. “Oh, this is not my work.” He took my hand and spun me. “All I did was enchant the dress to adjust to your measurements and a little pop of color. This beauty is all yours, Miss Moore. I fear for the hearts of Eldari, for they will be broken upon seeing you.”
A blush crept past my hairline. “Do not be ridiculous.”
“I am merely speaking the truth. You are beautiful.”
His simple words made my heart swell. That was all I had ever wanted to hear from Baxter and the others. For them to look at me and pause, breathless for a moment as I had been so often for them. But those words came from Mr. Hawthorne, a colleague needing me to look the part, and my chest deflated a little.
When this was over, I would wear that new dress and Baxter would say the same. He would.
Slate fell on Mr. Hawthorne’s shoulder, who kept hold of my hand. He guided us into the circle, where he grasped Otis. Taking a cue from him, I grabbed Otis next, so we stood at the center of the runes hand in hand.
“Miss Beamy will not accompany us? I thought she would love a day in the city,” I said, wondering if the aged cat slept in.
“She has found a family of mice in the fields that she plans to exterminate, so she will stay here for the day,” Mr. Hawthorne replied.
Those poor mice. She didn’t have to exterminate a whole family, did she?!
“I am assuming you have never taken a summoning circle before,” he said.
“You assume correctly,” I replied, still worried about those unfortunate mice. Miss Beamy was quite old, so hopefully she would tire out before her extermination attempt.
“Please face Otis. I do not want to risk ruining my suit.”
“Rooke,” Otis groaned then the runes came to life.
Silvery light erupted beneath us. The world became little more than a silhouette, over shined by the blinding shade. Mr. Hawthorne hummed with power, a literalvibration felt through the palm of my hand. Then Otis joined, and we rose. Ivory House hovered below us, blurred lines and shaking, then the world’s colors mixed to form a kaleidoscope of agonizing beauty.
My mind couldn’t grasp what I perceived, everything coalescing into peculiar shapes and forms. We were nothing but picked-apart pieces of ourselves twisting into nothing. Though I felt Mr. Hawthorne and Otis’s hands, I couldn’t see them nor perceive them anywhere. We were endless, infinity, spiraling through the center of the world itself.
Then we dropped, faster and faster. My heart leapt into my throat, and bowels grumbled, irritated and watery. My feet hit the ground. I would have fallen if not for Otis and Mr. Hawthorne’s tight grip on my hands. Then I learned why Mr. Hawthorne had me face away from him as my stomach threatened an expulsion that, thankfully, never came.
