Page 33 of Song of the Dawn
Ezra’s mouth opened and shut. Running his fingers through his hair, he shook his head. “You have an exquisite mind. There’s one thing I’ve noticed about you, and I don’t know if you realize this or not, but you have a gift. You see people for who they are. You take the time to get to know them and reserve judgment. That is unique.”
Ezra’s words left me feeling almost as warm as his mouth did, almost. My emotions shifted and twisted, moving into dangerous territory. I decided I was going to enjoy him. Come what may.
* * *
My clothes arrivedthe next week in a bundle Giselle brought in from town. Among them were lovely dresses, fine and stylish, more expensive than anything I would have picked out myself, and I was thankful she had chosen for me.
I felt like a lady of the court as I tried on dress after dress. They were all light, silky, and some clung to my body more than others, dipping and curving. Namen had blessed me with two new work dresses, simple and efficient, trousers and a linen shirt to ride in, three evening dresses all different shades of pastels. When I looked in the mirror, I realized she’d chosen colors that complemented my bright-purple hair and rich brown skin. She’d done her job well. The last garment came with a note pinned on it:Wear this for the harvest festival.I smiled. She’d thought of everything.
I took advantage of the calmness to write to Mother and Aveline, my fingers pausing as I thought of Ezra and our time spent on the lake. He’d made it clear what he wanted, but should I tell them or wait? The original plan had been for me to spend the summer at the inn, for that was during the busy months. Fall was less busy, and in winter, people did not want to leave their cozy homes to brave the snow and ice and visit the inn even though it was only in the foothills of the blue mountains. Winter, I intended to stay with Mother and Aveline, back in the country house, before returning to the inn again, if they had need of me. In fact, I hadn’t considered past the summer, but the idea of leaving Ezra was painful.
Turning those thoughts over in my mind, I took my violin and went to play for the dinner rush. The room buzzed with life, and it was difficult to find my focus. Even when I placed my bow on the strings and closed my eyes, I couldn’t concentrate. Instead of drifting away to a meadow where flowers lifted their faces to my song, I remained in the room, aware of the guests laughing and talking, the sound of mugs clinking while the music drifted in the background. Ignored, I played but not well, and all the while, a lump of disappointment settled in my throat. Summer was almost half over, and if I did not improve, what would be next?
When I finished, the guests carried on as if I was not even there. Usually I received a bit of applause but not tonight. Shoulders heavy, I made my way out of the room when Ginger called, “Mila?”
I chewed my lower lip as I faced her, aware my performance hadn’t been my best.
“It’s busy tonight. Would you mind taking a bottle of white wine up to Lady Elodie? After you put away the violin.”
“Of course,” I said, relieved she had nothing to say about my music, but then, she never had.
The bells rang, and Ginger moved away with a sigh. I sensed it was busier than usual, and instead of taking the violin to my room, I slipped into the lounge and placed it on the table.
I usually avoided the cellar, but Ginger hadn’t bothered to bring up a bottle of wine. Reminding myself I’d seen nothing untoward in the cellar, I bravely opened the door and started down the stairs. Musty air greeted me, and the torches were well lit. Determined not to see anything odd, I focused on the shelf of wine. In my haste, I grabbed a bottle of red, only noticing when I turned to go back up the stairs. With a sigh, I spun around, replaced it, and more carefully this time, selected a white wine. It was the same I’d shared with Ezra on the balcony. My heart beat faster. Would I see him tonight? Would we trade kisses in the dark?
Pivoting to go up the stairs, I froze when the hair on the back of my neck tingled. Swallowing hard, I turned around. The air had shifted in the cellar. It was dense, hard to breathe, and the familiar mustiness was replaced with a foul rot. My fingers tightened around the bottle, and I lifted it, as though it was a weapon. My heart kicked as something moved. I was sure of it, a flicker beyond the light. Something was in there. I felt the awareness in every fiber of my being as I backed toward the steps. What was it? There came a faint glow and then red eyes. They were no more than orbs, glowing in the darkness, a film to them as they stared at me. I didn’t wait to see what would happen next. Turning, I ran up the stairs, slamming the door to the cellar behind me, and breathed, hard.
“Easy there,” Moses called from around the corner.
I couldn’t say anything. My breath was gone. Instead of taking the lift, I slunk out of the kitchen to the stairs, hoping no one had witnessed my fright. As I walked, I mulled over what I’d seen. Something lurked in the cellar, some beast, and it wasn’t a cat at all. Now that I’d seen it with my own two eyes, I knew I wasn’t losing my sanity. My throat was tight as I climbed the stairs. I needed to tell someone, and I desperately wanted an explanation. Would Giselle tell me more? Or should I go directly to Ezra? It was his inn. Surely he knew what happened in it and the truth about what had become of Endia. I went cold just thinking of her.
On the second floor, I went to Lady Elodie’s room. She’d been at the inn for a while and mostly kept to herself. Rachelle brought Lady Elodie breakfast each morning, and she usually went through a few bottles of wine a week. Sometimes more.
When I reached her door, it was cracked open. I knocked gently and called out, “Hello. Lady Elodie? I brought a bottle of wine.”
The door swung open further under my touch, revealing the sitting room. A tray sat on a low table before the fire. Further back would be the bedroom and the adjoining door to the washroom. They were tight quarters but nice for those who stayed for more than one day to have their share of privacy or carry on business behind closed doors.
“I’ll just leave it here,” I called out.
No response came, but I was in a hurry, so I placed the bottle on the table. I didn’t mean to pry, but a book lay in one chair, wide open, spine cracked as though it had been laid down in a hurry. A letter sat beside it along with a bottle of perfume and an extravagant diamond necklace. The jewels glistened in the firelight, and my eyes widened. Diamonds like that spoke of untold wealth, but Lady Elodie seemed to be running from something. Since it was none of my business, I stepped back and frowned. An odd odor permeated the room. A hint of iron and something else, like a sweet liquid. Forgetting about her things, I stepped further into the room, and that was when I saw it.
Dark-brown spots dotted the floor. Blood. My heart raced, although I reminded myself it could be her monthlies and she’d rushed to the washroom for rags.
“Lady Elodie? Do you need any more assistance?” I called.
There was silence, and an icy dread filled me as a slurping sound began. At first it was small, quiet, far away. I listened, and there it came again, just like the eerie sound I’d heard in the cellar. Clenching my hands into fists, I resolved to be bold and brave. Surely there was a reasonable explanation for it if I was hearing it upstairs. It might be the piping in the inn, with so many washrooms and guests coming and going. After all, the floors creaked oddly too.
When I reached the bedroom, the adjoining door to the washroom was open, and I hesitated. Was I intruding on her privacy? The slurping sound came again and then an inhuman hiss. Something dark moved behind the door, suddenly and violently, followed by the smack of skin striking skin. It came again. And then a low moan.
My heart thumped wildly in my chest, and I took a step toward the washroom. It moved in a blur of shadows, but when red eyes met mine, I spun. Heart in my throat, I left the door wide open and thumped down the stairs, barely avoiding a collision with Rachelle.
“Watch it!” she called.
“Sorry,” I threw over my shoulder, rushing into the bar.
Ginger was in the kitchen, organizing bottles of wine into a crate. She looked up sharply when I rushed in. “Mila? What’s wrong?”
“Room six. Lady Elodie’s room. Something isn’t right. There was blood and a dark being in the washroom, and I heard her moan…”
