Fabled (17 page)

“Shall we have tea in the garden?” he asked. “Adela, we’ll be in the garden for tea.”

He and I left the breakfast room and walked into a large indoor greenhouse. Vines and flowers crept up every wall, which was lovely, but the room’s humidity was stifling. Before long though, we were outside in the rose garden, the same one I’d admired while we ate. We walked down a meandering brick path and took in the smell and the beauty.

“They’re extraordinarily red,” I said while examining one in my hand.
 

“Yes, that was her favorite color.” He glanced at my dress and continued on the path. I ran my fingers along the ruby silk petal.

We came to an iron table and chairs. The chairs had over-sized cushions on the seats, and Carol motioned for us to sit. I noticed we were sitting in the middle of the yard. Several brick pathways led out into the garden; we were the center destination.
Beautiful.

We sat for a few minutes without saying anything, but the silence was killing me and my growing curiosity was driving me mad. I didn’t want to make him upset again, but I felt like I needed to know.

“How did she die?”

“No one ever truly dies in Mezzanine, you know that.”

“I know, but Adela said she died.”

“Death’s hold is merely magic, for now. He never takes his victory in Mezzanine completely, but is not the masquerade still convincing?”

I became frustrated at him talking in riddles.

“Why is that?”

“Surely you know the history?”

“Of course,” I blurted, realizing that I was seeming more and more like an outsider with every question. Questions that are common knowledge to the locals. He looked at me with a raised brow. I attempted to play it cool and went on, “I’ve just never heard anyone be labeled ‘dead’ before.”

“Yes, well, Adela is an old soul. She sees things like they were before the veil was dropped, and we were placed here.”

“I see. Tell me about the before. I haven’t been told much about it. Not very many people remember it,” I said.

He settled back in his seat and began, “Before, two worlds were one. Magic and physics coexisted to form a limitless world. Every individual had his or her giftings, and life was enchanted. The birds sang louder, the grass greener, and people lived fuller. The entireness of life was lived with a certain, unmistakable enchantment. People died, yes. But the magic of living an abundant life overshadowed even the sting of death. But as all good things do, it abruptly changed. There were people who craved more power, and there were people who saw magic as evil. The Anglos’ believed that people should be allowed to rule through conceptual representation and without the influence of magic. The Demos believed that people weren’t capable of leading themselves and believed magic a necessary tool to their absolute rule. The two ideas collided in a great battle for the world. The Anglos won, and the Demos lost. The world then split. A third of the people, chose at random were sanctioned to the Demos fate, which was to reside underground in what is now Mezzanine. The rest of the people remained in the world above.”

“It sounds like something you’d read in a book.”
 

He laughed. “It’s true. I lived to see it all happen, and so did you.” He eyed me and coughed awkwardly, like a question was tickling his mind that he refused to ask. “I was younger in mind than I am now, but after an eternity of reflection, I’ve realized that the real fight wasn’t between good and evil. It was over power. The Anglos and the Demos wanted the power over the people. In the end, they both got what they wanted in some ways. But not fully.”

The place finally started to make sense to me. The Demos wanted to know how I got into Mezzanine, so they would know how to get back to the world above − the world they once shared. They wanted to fight the Anglos again.

“Do you think the Anglos and Demos will ever meet again?” I asked.

“Let us hope not,” he whispered.
 

Adela came humming along the path holding a silver tray with three teacups on it. She joined us.
 

“Adela, Mr. Carol tells me that you are an old soul — that you remember things from the old world. Do you miss anything from there?”

“Of course, child! I miss the brightness of the sun, the vastness of Terra, and death.”

I felt myself sit up straighter in confusion of the word “death.”

“Why would you miss death?”

“It’s unnatural to be alive for so many damned years, girl. Haven’t you ever thought so?”
 

Of course, it hadn’t occurred to me that people would tire of being alive since I was only eighteen years old.

“Sure. But isn’t life a better alternative to death?”

“It depends on what your perception of death is.”

“So you believe that Julia is in a better place?”

“Ew, girl. There you go again. I don’t speak of the dead. I’ve already told you.”

“Julia is well where she is,” Mr. Carol interrupted.

We sipped our tea and spoke only about the garden after that. The tension of such a weighted subject had played its toll on our afternoon, and we all sat solemnly for the remainder of teatime. Afterward, we took another stroll through the roses. A large one drooped heavily on its limb. I decided to lighten the load and pick the rose from its bush. I pinched and snatched the flower away and felt it sting me.

“Ow!” I yelped and looked at the blood arising in a small bubble on my finger. Carol and Adela turned towards me suddenly.

A small drop of blood fell to the ground. I placed my finger in my mouth and sucked.
 

“Oh no!” Carol said frantically and leaped to my side. He took my finger in his hand. His face contorted into what I thought was absolute terror. Just then, the ground below us began to crack and abruptly grow something. A slight seedling sprouted through the dirt’s crack. It took another inconceivable breath of carbon and grew another foot. Within seconds, it was a full-grown white, blooming rose bush. We all stared in amazement.

“Get her inside!” Carol yelled to Adela. She took my arm and hurried me into the parlor.

“What just happened?”
 

“I knew it wasn’t no good idea bringing you here and then walking you through the garden too. That man ain’t got no sense sometimes,” she mumbled.

“How did that happen?” I raised my voice to get her attention.

“It’s complicated. And I’m not sure if I should tell you right now. You just lie down on the couch and rest a bit, you hear?”
 

I did as she said because I had already learned that no one could crack Adela’s will if she didn’t want them to. She left me there alone in the room. I watched the clouds through the windows morph from blue, to gray, to black.

Chapter 16

It wasn’t long before the wind began whipping on the windows. Rain misted inside the few opened ones. I closed them and stared out at the sudden storm. Adela and Mr. Carol still hadn’t came back. I didn’t know if they were even inside the house, which was too large to hear from room to room. The lightning struck a nearby tree and shattered it in half. Startled, I went back to the sofa and waited anxiously. My finger throbbed, so I continued to suck on it. I realized then that it may not be possible to get back to Chester tonight, and I wondered what he would think if I weren’t there.
What if the rain washes away my note to him?
 

A strike of lightning filled the space with a quick blue streak. My heart jumped. I closed my eyes in fear as the thunder rolled around the house. With every beat it shook the very frame and threatened the old wood walls. While my eyes were closed, I felt someone sit next to me.

“Are you alright?” he whispered.

“What’s happening?”

“It’s hard to explain.”

“Try,” I said as I sat up. He leaned into the sofa and appeared nervous. The storm continued popping all around us, and the rain beat on the tin roof.

“Julia — You know that she’s not really dead. She lives in the garden. That’s her garden. The roses. They are her. Julia was very powerful when she was flesh. She was a part of the resistance, the Demos. She’s an integral part of the split between the worlds. She was really a beautiful person, but power turned her into something else. It gave her an unquenchable thirst. After the worlds were split, there were several rebellions in Mezzanine. Many different families wanted the keys to this world. Julia held them for a long time, but she eventually lost. She was beautiful but brutal. People thought that a rose symbolized her best, so when the new reigning family came to power, they thought it’d be ironically fitting to lock her into a rose garden. This is where the last battle was held. She was changed where she stood. I had this home built and stayed here with my love. To be close to her. To sometimes feel her presence.”

A few more minutes passed, and I watch as his eyes reverted inward. It was as if he were watching memories replay in his mind.

“I still don’t understand why my blood hitting the ground made a new rose bush grow. And what about the storm?”

He glanced at me, suddenly torn from his memories. “There’s more. Julia’s magic had grown to an unbelievable strength before she was taken. It took great effort to bind her. She still retains some of her power. She still craves lives. She feeds on any blood that is ever shed in her garden. She grows stronger with every drop. That bush that your blood grew, she’s feeding on right now. Hence the storm. She’s done this before. I should have known better than to ever invite you here. Sometimes it gets so lonely, with just Adela and me. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“What’s there to forgive? Is something going to happen to me? From what you’re saying, she’ll just get stronger,” I questioned.

“She now has a piece of your life. It has been stolen from you and will forever be hers.”

“What does that mean?” my voice raised.

“It means she will have control over some part of you — at least partially.” His voice shuttered.

I sat there and dug my fingers into the velvet couch to steady myself. A mix of emotions washed over me, but the primary one was that of anger.
 

“How could you have let this happen? Why did you ever let me walk into that garden?” I yelled.

“I watched you admire it during lunch, and I wanted to share Julia’s beauty with someone. She’s only remembered for her gruesomeness, but there is so much more to her than that. I am so sorry.” His face looked genuine, sincere. But it didn’t matter to me. I was angry. “I didn’t think you’d try to break off a rose. Most people don’t touch them because of the thorns.”

I glared at him. “Most people don’t lead innocent people into a blood sucking garden,” I snarled.

I sat there for several minutes trying to process everything. He broke the silence first, “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

He led me into an adjoining room closed with a heavy ten-foot door. He pushed it into the wall, displaying an amazing personal library. A red woven rug centered the room. Large leather, tufted chairs sat in the middle with a lantern on a table between them. A massive desk scattered with books sat at the opposite side of the room. Mr. Carol went and pulled back the royal blue curtains. Books wallpapered the walls. It was beautiful. Between two shelves hung a large picture covered with black cloth. Mr. Carol lit the lantern and pulled the cloth off the frame. It was of a beautiful young woman with pale skin, brown hair that hung in large curls, and dark eyes. There was something mysterious, yet lovely about her. An engraved plaque at the bottom of the frame that read: “The Queen of my Heart.”

“Julia,” Mr. Carol said with a smile. I watched as his face contorted with grief. I wasn’t sure how long it had been since Julia left, but for Carol, it was obviously still a fresh wound.

“She’s beautiful,” I said with condolence.
 

“Your rose is white,” he said turning back to me but not meeting my eyes.

“What does that mean?”
 

“It means you have
or had
a pure soul,” he stuttered.

“You think Julia will make me something else?”

“Just know it’s a possibility.” He approached me, looked into my eyes, and grabbed my shoulders. “Question every thought. Does it align with who you really are? If not, take it captive and throw it out of your mind. Do you hear me?” he whispered.

His grave voice made me shutter. His eyes turned black and frightening. Lightning lit up the room with blue.
 

“Mr. Carol, I think you had better go lie down. It’s been a long afternoon,” Adela said from the library entrance.

He came back to himself, and jerked when he realized he still had ahold of me.

“My apologies, Roe. Please excuse me.” He hastily walked out of the room.

I looked at Adela. “The storm is dying down. I’ll get you some tea. Meet me in the parlor,” she said and disappeared. I walked back to the parlor in the dark. The tings of rain had stopped.

“Here you are,” she said handing me a cup and saucer.

“Thanks,” I said in reflex.

“Forgive Mr. Carol. He doesn’t know what he’s doing sometimes. A couple of centuries of loneliness will take its toll on anyone.”

“I’m scared what she’s going to do to me,” I blurted.

“Don’t be. Julia only has as much control as you allow her. If you fight for your pure, honest soul, she won’t stand a chance,” Adela reassured me.
 

“She was so young,” I couldn’t help but say it.

“Age ain’t nothing unless one lives in Time.” Her voice grew more serious. “Mr. Carol has always had an eye for the young and beautiful, even when we lived in Time. But he really loved Ms. Julia. He ain’t a pervert, if that’s what you’re thinking. Pure love ain’t perverse; it’s supernatural.”

I still struggled with the reality here — how one can look fourteen, and their soul be hundreds of years old.

I sat my empty teacup on the table and left. There were no good byes. I simply walked away from Adela, Carol, and Julia without a word. As I met the creek, I looked back at the Victorian mansion with its elaborate garden. I couldn’t see it, but I envisioned my white rose slowly fading into red.