Page 83 of The Mermaid's Bubble Lounge
I opened it and gestured for him to go ahead. “What’s important to keep in mind is that the folly exists in its own magical space. The folly is far bigger than the distance from our house to The Slaughtered Lamb and yet here it is.”
When we walked into the cave tunnel entrance, Bracken turned to me. “Is that the ocean I hear?”
Grinning, I pointed ahead to the light seeping into the dark tunnel. Fergus ran ahead; he loved the island. When we arrived at the open doorway, sand scattered across the rock-hewn ground, Bracken stared in shock. He took a tentative step into the sand and marveled at it all. Bending down, he sifted the grains through his fingers.
“Remarkable,” he murmured. He looked up at the clear blue skies, the puffy clouds in the distance, and the ocean. “I understand why the vampires feel as though they are actually under the sun.” He shook his head. “I can’t wrap my mind around it.”
“I know. And the ocean contains fish and sharks, even sea monsters, in case we want to wage wars.”
“I could spend years just exploring this island.” He glanced back at me. “Is it as big as it looks, or is that mountain and the rest of the island an optical illusion?”
“This is where Cadmael stays. He says it’s truly the size of an island. He’s explored it.”
Bracken moved forward, to follow Fergus, but I grabbed his arm. “You can explore later. We’re not done. There are other rooms.”
The shock on his face was almost comical. “You have more than an island and an ocean between your house and the bookstore?”
“Indeed, we do. Come on, Fergus!”
THIRTY-SIX
Bloody Hell
Bracken scribbled in his journal as we made our way through the tunnel.
“That’s the only separate, contained room, probably because of the ocean. Do you see the light up ahead?”
Bracken glanced up and nodded.
“That’s Canterbury in the Middle Ages, when Clive was alive.”
Bracken’s step faltered with that news, and then he pocketed his journal again. The tunnel opened and we were walking through green fields, the spires of the cathedral rising impossibly high off to our right. We crossed a wooden bridge spanning the Great Stour river.
Bracken stopped halfway over and stared down into the water. “Fish?”
I shook my head. “They’re like the sea monsters in the ocean. They’re there and they respond like the real thing, but they’re not alive. They’re pieces of dragon magic.”
Bracken stared around us in wonder. “The grass, the trees, the birds I’m hearing, the butterflies fluttering over the flowers…none of it is real?”
I shook my head again. “No real sun, remember? We’re underground. Do you feel that, though? It’s still warm on our faces. There’s a breeze, carrying the scent of freshly tilled earth and wood smoke. Don’t let the real–artificial thing weigh you down. Just enjoy your visit to the Canterbury of a thousand years ago.”
We walked in silence for a while, Bracken absorbing everything he could. “Can we enter the cathedral? Are there interiors to these cottages, the church, or are they facades?”
“They’re complete, inside and out.”
“Amazing,” he murmured. “They can recreate any time period? How in the world can they accomplish that?”
“No idea.” I smiled, tipping my face back to the sort-of sun. “Dragons are ageless. Maybe they were here for it.” I pointed to the thatch-roofed homes. “The cottages are very simple, which Clive says is accurate, but they all have the basics needed to live in this time period. Up ahead, do you see the fields and the plow?”
Bracken nodded.
“That’s Clive’s family farm.”
Bracken turned sharply. “He was a farmer in life?”
I nodded, remembering how he looked plowing that field in Leticia’s memory.
“I never would have guessed that. I thought maybe a member of the aristocracy.”
