Arrival of the Traveler (Waldgrave Book 1) (20 page)

On the floor below, a girl lay quietly in a bed, composed very carefully by her family to assure her comfortable repose. In a world she did not understand, she was wondering from domicile to domicile, some huts, some lofts, some tents, asking people she did not know if they had recently seen her father—a taller man with blue eyes and blond hair. He might be traveling with a boy. But no one had seen them, and then she knew that she wasn’t dead. A shadow fell over her, and there, towering above the apartments, hotels, igloos, and RVs, was the majestically monstrous Waldgrave house. It looked like a tombstone to Lena, her final resting place, whose halls she would haunt for all of eternity…

Lena!

Her eyes opened. She was in a place she had never seen before, and she was sure she was still in her dream. She had never seen these walls and ceiling. She did not know the bed in which she rested, but she knew the worried face standing over her. She knew she was about to get lectured, and despite the fact that she hurt all over, she knew she deserved it.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was hoarse. Her entire neck was bruised; it felt as though it was bruised clear through from front to back. Though she could not see it, the distinctive pattern of the rope was still brazenly coiled about her neck.

Don’t talk. I told you, no more secrets…
 Howard’s eyes were bloodshot. He had been drinking.

Where’s my mom?

She’s been too distraught to see you. She’s been too distraught to do anything.
 Howard sighed and pulled up a chair to the foot of the bed. He sat down and rubbed his temples as though he had a headache.

That certainly sounds like her.
 Lena retorted; the tinge of cynicism in her thoughts surprised her. She was getting better at controlling this new mode of communication.

Howard smiled a little. “Be nice. She loves you.”

She loves herself more.

“It’s who she is.” Howard sighed dismissively. “Who she was raised to be. Are you hungry?”

She was. She felt as though she hadn’t eaten in several days, and Howard informed her that that was, in fact, the case. She had been unconscious for almost forty-eight hours, screaming through her mind in a tortured way every once in a while, which was why she had been brought all the way up to the fourth floor—Master Daray had given up his bedroom so she would have a comfortable place to rest. Lena looked around at the oversized bed and heavy comforter and cringed, wishing she hadn’t asked; now she was going to have to think about him and his dying eyes lying in the bed, exactly where she was now. Howard had Mrs. Ralston bring some oatmeal, and Lena thanked her profusely. Mrs. Ralston looked different somehow; she had grabbed Lena’s hand and asked briefly how she was. She gave her the well wishes of the entire kitchen staff, and gave her a note from Devin (“I guess some of them are nice. I hope you’re better, and I hope to see you well again soon --Devin”), before pulling a tissue out of her pocket and excusing herself to tend to the departing families.

They’re leaving?

“The meeting’s over. About half of them are gone already. Alexis and Bianca asked me to give you their well wishes. As did Hesper and…Griffin.”

“They’re…” Her voice cracked. 
They’re gone already?

“Yes. Hesper informed me that if you weren’t disallowed from visiting the Corbett’s home in California, she would ask you to come and visit. You are disallowed, by the way. Until you’re legally an adult, and even then, I doubt it would be allowed.” They smiled together at the irony. Howard picked up a letter that was on the nightstand, and handed it to her. Lena started to open it, but Howard stopped her. “We need to talk about something first. That letter is from Hesper. I trust Hesper; she’s proven over the years that she can think for herself. She doesn’t buy into her parent’s fanaticism.”

Okay.

“There’s a fine line here between your personal space and things I need to know.”

Lena looked down at the thick envelope in her hands. She wouldn’t have expected Hesper to write so much.

She understood what Howard was getting at.

“So, here’s the deal. It’s been decided, by a vote, that you stay here. He’s leaving. The engagement has been dissolved, and while I can’t stop you from writing to Hesper, your friend, communication between you and Griffin is illegal now.” Howard leaned back in his chair, waiting for the protests to start.

Why do you have to enforce it?
 Lena clutched the letter. She knew her personal opinion wasn’t going to overrule the Council, but it might overrule Howard.       

Howard looked up at the ceiling for a moment, trying to figure out where to begin. “Even though you’ve given me little reason to trust you, I trust that you have no romantic interest as far as Griffin is concerned. Others aren’t so convinced, and so there will be no communication until you’re a legal adult. You wouldn’t believe how hard I had to fight to get you that much.”

Lena thought for a moment. 
Thanks, I guess. What about…him? The attacker? Did he kill my brother?

Howard took another moment. “Warren Astley—the man who…”

I know. He introduced himself the night of the first dinner.
 Somewhere in her dreams, seeing his face over and over, she had placed him.

“He may or may not have killed Thomas. They don’t know. He’s always been a little strange; he’s never fit in here, but I don’t think anyone ever thought he was dangerous. All the same, we’re looking into the well-being of his children. There’s quite a few people who want the Daray line dead, to prevent the opening of the portal. Do you know about all that?”

Hesper told me. But why are people so opposed to opening it? I mean, why can’t they just open it, and the people who want to leave will leave, and everyone else can stay?

“Did Hesper tell you that every known opening of the portal has corresponded with a major pandemic? Well, every supposed opening, anyway. There’s no proof that this object even exists…modern science would almost demand that it couldn’t.” Howard nodded at Lena’s surprised expression. “We don’t know what’s on the other side, really, but people aren’t the only entities to have come through. The late eighteen hundreds is the last known time it was opened, and almost immediately afterwards, a pandemic plague started that killed millions worldwide. Most of us don’t believe it’s a coincidence. We don’t know for sure, but we think cholera may have come through it, too.”

A chill ran down Lena’s spine. 
He thought I’d start another pandemic...

“Not you specifically. I can see why she wouldn’t tell you this part, after how upset you were with the engagement. It can only be opened by a male heir, which is why your grandfather is anxious that you marry a Silenti, and not a human—even if you were to produce a male heir, he wouldn’t be able to read what was on the portal if he were human.”

Oh, my God…Thomas…

“Lena,” Howard leaned forward, so that he was closer to her. “There’s no proof. He may be a bigot and an asshole…” Hearing Howard use this word made Lena’s eyes go wide, “…but you shouldn’t automatically blame him for something he may not have done. You’re a Daray; I’d be equally as unfair to say you’re anything like your mom or grandfather. Innocent until proven guilty.”

He had a point. 
But what about my mom, couldn’t she have more kids? I mean, isn’t she just as big a risk as I am?

“There were complications with her pregnancy. She won’t tell anyone exactly what happened, but we do know that you and Thomas were delivered via cesarean in a hospital that wasn’t spectacularly well prepared. She can’t have any more children, and that puts you in a complicated situation.”

Lena stared at him. Yes, that did put her in a complicated situation. She could possibly kill a whole religion by merely refusing to have children.

“But to get back to the point, that’s why I have to enforce the decisions. I’m the lucky moderator between both sides of the argument. The Old Faith believers have agreed to let the dispute go as long as the Darays remain in power, and the others agree to leave the Darays in power as long as they’re not trying to open the portal. So here I am, enforcing the agreements so you, your mother, and your grandfather can live with as much freedom as is allowed.”

Lena met his eyes. She probably owed him thanks, but couldn’t see how a life at Waldgrave could be called freedom. 
And Mr. Astley?

“Well, Daray wanted him dead, but because he didn’t actually manage to kill you, he got away with banishment. He’ll never be allowed back into this world.”

That hardly seems fair.
 Lena would gladly have traded places with the “unfortunate” Mr. Astley.

“For a Silenti, it’s torture. The human world is hardly adequate to meet our needs—with no other Silenti to interact with, he’ll be trapped in his own mind. It’s very much like serving a life sentence in seclusion. He will suffer.”

Lena sighed. It wasn’t fair. She wanted to rant, but she was tired again. She finished her oatmeal, and was about to doze off when Howard started speaking again.

“There’s one more thing.” He sounded worried, as if he were telling her something he didn’t really want her to know, but was sure she would find out eventually. “Griffin saved your life, no matter what his motive was. We’re all thankful for that. Frankly, he took quite a beating from Astley to ensure your safety before finally subduing him. So, don’t open that letter in front of me. Don’t tell me what it says, or who it’s really from. As long as it’s nothing more than letters back and forth, I don’t want to know. But if you ever hear of something that I need to know, I do expect you to be responsible enough to tell me, now that you understand. Now get some sleep.”

Lena watched Howard leave the room and close the door. She looked down at the letter, but was too tired to open it, and fell asleep with it still clutched in her hand.

“Breakfast started ten minutes ago. Up!”

Lena squinted as Mrs. Ralston threw open the shades of her bedroom with a clap and light flooded in. She pulled the comforter over her head.

“Up! Up!” Mrs. Ralston yanked the covers off of Lena’s bed.

“It’s my birthday…that means I get to sleep in.” Lena pulled the pillow out from under her and hid her head underneath it. She mumbled into the bed.

“What?”

Go away.

“I’ll let you out of school early. That’s all the birthday you get.” Ralston grabbed the pillow as well, managed to harass Lena into getting out of bed, and then went back downstairs.

School. The last several months had been a rude awakening; with Griffin gone, and visitors restricted, Mrs. Ralston had been the only company Lena had. She had started out years behind on math and science, but thankfully, her reading and writing skills were above average. With all day access to her pupil, Mrs. Ralston had put her on an accelerated program. While Lena had resisted at first, she quickly found that attempts to tune out lessons were futile—when she became too distracted to listen or read, Mrs. Ralston was promptly talking inside her head, and it was impossible to ignore. In just a few months she had nearly completed the required curriculum.

Lena rolled out of bed, showered, brushed her teeth and hair, and dressed. She even found it in her heart to put on some eyeliner and mascara, in Hesper’s honor. She looked at herself in the mirror. In a time span of less than a year, she’d done some serious rearranging in her life. Her reflection hadn’t changed since the day before, or the day before that, or the day before that. But since one year ago, when she’d looked at herself in a mirror in Brazil, she had grown a full inch. Her face was filling out, she wore makeup at the urging of a friend, and she’d finally enjoyed the luxury of sleeping in. It was the same mirror she’d be looking into next year, she reminded herself solemnly. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. It hadn’t been a very good year, but a year good for growing up nonetheless.

Every year for her birthday, her father had given her the same thing. It was usually in conjunction with something else, but there was always a new pair of shoes. Shoes wear out in about a year, and Lena looked forward to the new sneakers; her father had said they were a symbol of moving forward. They were the vehicle of the journey of her life; this year, though, there would be no shoes. It was part of the journey forward. It was part of saying goodbye. Moving around the Waldgrave house didn’t wear shoes out the way her previous lifestyle had, anyway.       

She walked down to the dining room, as she habitually did, and sat in her usual spot at the table, with her mother and Howard, who both wished her a happy birthday.

“You’ve got cards.” Howard pushed a stack of envelopes at her. She thumbed through them briefly, noting that Hesper’s was thickest—notes from the Hesper were frequent, and usually contained more than one letter. Howard pretended not to notice, but Lena knew he did because he gave her a very serious look every time she received one. Today, even though he had to know there would be a card from Griffin, he only smiled and scratched behind his left ear.

After breakfast (Mrs. Ralston stuck a candle in her pancakes, which was somewhat cliché but still appreciated), in the living room, Ava gave her daughter a small box wrapped in brightly colored paper. It contained a necklace, which looked suspiciously like a bracelet she already owned. It had a silver leaf pattern with a jewel rose pendant.