Page 51 of The Curse of Indy Moore
“As if you need one, and that is hardly a wait,” I countered.
Mr. Hawthorne stared longingly at a nearby boutique, where sets of shoes were set up in the windows. “I am in need of new shoes, thanks to your uncontrollable chewing.”
I stomped my foot. “It’s not… That is the wolf, not me.”
“And you destroyed one of my rooms. It is in need of redecorating.” Mr. Hawthorne walked ahead, muttering to himself about his future shopping adventure. Chuckling, Otis followed and nodded along to his student’s suggestions on the remodeling.
That man may be weirder than any demon.
We returned to the transit hall and took the summoning circle to Ivory House. My stomach churned just as much during the second journey. If I had anything in it, I would have gotten sick, so it was a blessing in disguise not to have stopped anywhere for dinner. In the garden, Otis offered to start said dinner, sauntering off to the kitchen, while Mr. Hawthorne took to his office. He had a lot to read and didn’t want to be disturbed.
I would have taken to exploring, perhaps gone to the observatory, even if I couldn’t view anything, but then two letters flew at me. One hit me in the chest. The other whizzed past my head, made an abrupt turn, and hit me in the back.
One letter came from Aunt Agnes and the other from Baxter. Mr. Hawthorne’s enchantments were truly a wonder. They sent and received letters with such speed, while anyone in Westshire knew their letters could take weeks to reach their destination unless they paid a fee for a speedy delivery.
Taking the letters, I went to my room to read them, leaving Baxter’s for last. I wasn’t sure what the letter would say, or what I wanted it to say.
Dear Indy,
I am so relieved that we can write to each other. Can you believe the letter flew right into my lap this morning? Artificers are a strange bunch, but please, give Mr. Hawthorne another round of thanks.
I know you’re concerned about the farm, but those helping hands are as their name entails. They had breakfast prepared by the time we woke and half the chores done by midday. I even took a long lunch where I didn’t have to cook! They have been an absolute dream, so please don’t worry about us. Make sure to get this curse dealt with so you can come home.
As for the woodlands, a group set out this morning to travel to Cavehallow, made up of those who had safely entered previously. They should return by tomorrow, seeing as they also are gathering supplies for everyone in case anything happens. I’m worried. We all are, but the demon hasn’t set foot in Westshire, and we’re keeping the kids away from the woods. This is a rough patch, but we’ll get through it.
Love,
Aunt Agnes
The letter hadn’t eased me as much as I hoped. I lingered on her talk of the helping hands, how useful they were, so much so that she could take a break. Carline offered the chance for my aunt to take more than a break. She could retire. Didn’t she deserve that?
Carline was a temptress dragging me further and further in. She said if I returned, then the deal remained on the table. I could leave, tell Mr. Hawthorne I changed my mind, and have an unbelievable five years. What else did I expect to do or achieve in my life? I never amounted to anything. I would never be more than a farmer, never much of a partner, not much of a daughter, either.
A tear fell on the letter. I wiped them away with the backs of my hands.
No, I couldn’t let Carline win. I… Her deal probably had more strings attached to it. I wouldn’t know if my family got everything they wanted, especially after I… died. It’s foolish to accept.
And selfish not to.
“Damn it.” I set my aunt’s letter aside. Baxter’s letter sat unopened.
I pressed my fingers along the seal, wondering what brought about such hesitation, until Miss Beamy pranced into the room.
“Good evening. Did you have fun exterminating field mice today?” I asked, as she danced around my legs.
“Mice.” She hopped onto the desk to sit her butt right on the letters. She truly had no care about anyone else’s possession. “Oh yes, I killed quite a few today. Their carcasses are buried with the rest under the trees.”
Good to know none of the bodies were in the house.
“I hope you didn’t kill the whole family. That’s rather, um, unpleasant.”
She tilted her head. “Family?”
“Of mice. Mr. Hawthorne said you found a family of field mice.”
“Ah, yes, I did… but I wasn’t planning to catch them all. It is best to let some grow, so I may get them later. How did your outing go?” She lifted her chin and gave me a brief sideway glance. I believed that was her way of saying I could pet her.
“As well as it could. They accepted Mr. Hawthorne’s project. We were invited to a Moonlit Ball,” I replied while scratching under her chin.
