Playing With Fire (11 page)

Miss Moreau smiled. "I didn't take it that way." She glanced at Sylvia. "I'm not so sure your friend likes dining with spirit mediums, however."

"Don't mind her. She likes things to be easily explained."

"That must make life difficult for her."

I grinned then felt positively awful. Sylvia may not be clever or open-minded, but she was my friend and very sweet. Most of the time.

"Cara," Mrs. Beaufort said, breaking off her conversation with Jack and Samuel, "do you remember the name of the new teacher we employed at the school? I've quite forgotten, and she said she knew Mr. Langley here."

"She did?" I blurted out then bit my lip when everyone looked at me.

Jack's eyes twinkled. Damn him.

"Miss Charity Evans," Miss Moreau said.

The twinkle vanished. He stared at her, and a slight blush infused his cheeks. "Charity," he muttered. He half turned to Tommy, standing by the sideboard, and I got the feeling he wanted to say something to his old friend, but refrained in the company of our guests. They might be kind, but they were nobility and speaking informally to the footman wasn't something people of their class did.

"How did she say she knew me?"

I could see Jack was apprehensive about the answer, but I doubted anyone else noticed. I understood his concern. Just as I didn't want them to know that I'd been kept in an attic, he probably didn't want them to know he'd lived in the alleys of London until the age of fourteen.

"She didn't say," Mrs. Beaufort said. "It only came up because I received your message about the demon when I was visiting the school. Jacob sought me out when it arrived due to its urgent nature. I happened to mention that it was from a Mr. Langley of Frakingham House to Cara who was with me at the time, and Miss Charity overheard."

"She said she used to know you," Miss Moreau said. "The message was from the elder Mr. Langley, but she wasn't to know that."

"I haven't seen her in a year or so," Jack said wistfully. "How is she?"

"I would say she looks well," Mrs. Beaufort said. "She's quite the beauty."

"Indeed," Miss Moreau agreed. "She's very tall and has the loveliest golden hair."

Or course she did. I suppose she also had a sparkling wit, kind nature and no freckles. Jack's eyes had a faraway look in them and a small smile teased his lips. I wondered when he'd last seen her, and what their relationship had been. Certainly not one of mere friendship. He never grew dreamy when he thought of Tommy or any of the orphans he'd left behind when he moved to Frakingham.

"You called her
Miss
Charity," I said, looking down at my plate. I was afraid if I met her gaze she'd realize how important her answer was to me. "I take it she's not wed?"

"No," Mrs. Beaufort said.

"Any beaus?"

"Many, but none she encourages. She's quite married to her work."

"I can't imagine her being a teacher," Jack said, a small smile on his lips. "The Charity I remember was very, uh, spirited."

"She may one day become the headmaster if her devotion to the children and school continue."

"But she's a woman!" Mr. Culvert protested.

"So?"

"The very definition of headmaster is that the position must be held by a man."

"Good lord, George," Mrs. Beaufort huffed. "You can be so ancient in your thinking sometimes. Women are doing all sorts of marvelous things in positions once reserved only for men."

Mr. Beaufort chuckled. "Has being in the company of Adelaide and Emily over the last few years taught you nothing, my friend?"

Mr. Culvert held up his hands in surrender. "I apologize to the ladies present. I can be a little old-fashioned in my thinking at times."

"That's quite all right," I said. "I do agree with you on the point of headmaster. Perhaps she could be called headmistress instead."

We talked some more, thankfully not about Charity's numerous qualities, then adjourned back to the parlor to discuss demons.

"What is a demon exactly?" Samuel asked.

"It's an otherworldly creature," Mr. Culvert explained. "It has no true form here until it takes over the form of something from this realm."

"I don't understand," I said. "Jack could see it, and Tommy too. Samuel and I could not, nor any of the builders."

Mr. Culvert frowned. "You'd better explain. Tell me the sequence of events."

Jack told him about the hole in the trench, the death of the builder, and how he and Tommy had found the demon again in the woods.

"So Tommy wasn't with you when it first made its presence known?" Mr. Culvert asked.

"No," Jack said.

"Do you think if I had been I wouldn't have seen it either?" Tommy asked.

"Most likely not."

"But I could," Jack said. "Why?"

Mr. Culvert shrugged. "I don't know. All of my research tells me that when a demon comes into this world it has no form. It may be seen as a smoky haze or a ripple of air, but nothing solid."

"We saw the air shudder as it moved," I said.

Samuel nodded. "So you're saying it took on another form between then and later when Tommy saw it in the woods?"

"I see." Jack leaned forward. "It did look different to me that second time too. Remarkably so."

"What did it look like when you first saw it, Mr. Langley?"

Jack described the hairy creature, the claws and a face that was neither human nor animal. I shuddered at the image, thankful that I'd not been able to see it. I would have been terrified out of my wits.

"What about later, in the woods?" Mr. Beaufort prompted. "What did it look like then?"

Tommy and Jack glanced at Sylvia then me. "Why do I get the feeling you're about to say something I won't want to hear?" she asked.

"They avoided answering this question directly at the time," I said to our guests. "Go on, Jack, you'd better tell us now."

"Perhaps the ladies should leave the room," Samuel said.

"Gladly." Sylvia rose. "Come Hannah, Mrs. Beaufort, Miss Moreau. We'll find something more suitable to do."

I could see that Mrs. Beaufort and Miss Moreau weren't too keen to leave and nor was I. "The demon concerns all of us, Sylvia," I said. "We need to listen to what Mr. Culvert has to say about it."

She pouted and sat back down.

Mrs. Beaufort gave Sylvia a comforting smile. "I know it's a disturbing topic, but after what I've seen, I don't frighten easily. You get used to it."

Mr. Beaufort patted her hand, and she turned it over, palm up, and clasped his.

Sylvia picked up her embroidery and tugged hard on the needle. "I doubt I'll ever get used to it. Continue, Tommy. You were about to describe what you saw in the woods."

"I'm not sure I should," he said, watching her. "I don't want to upset you, Miss Langley."

"I'll describe it," Jack said. "Syl is always upset with me so it makes no difference. The demon had changed markedly since the first time I saw it. It walked and ran upright like a human, and it had lost all its fur. It sported skin and the body was definitely that of a human. Of sorts."

"Was it clothed?" Sylvia asked.

"No."

She screwed up her nose. "How awful."

"That's not the awful part. Its face was human, albeit…odd. Like the features didn't fit together. Its nose was too small, its mouth a mere slash, its eyes a strange yellow color, and the face much too big. It was difficult to tell if it was male or female."

"How tall was it?" Mr. Culvert asked.

"About as high as my waist when I'm standing."

Mr. Culvert sat back in his chair and rubbed his chin. "Interesting."

"So what do you think?" Jack asked. "Does it sound like a demon you've seen?"

He blinked. "Oh, no, the thing about demons is that no two look alike. Not when they
become
visible, that is."

"When they become visible?" I asked. "I don't understand. How does it become visible?"

"I don't think George has explained it very well," said Mr. Beaufort patiently, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "He has a habit of leaving out important details that he forgets the rest of us aren't aware of."

"I have a lot on my mind," Mr. Culvert said. "Go on, Jacob, you explain it since you think you're an expert now."

"Very well. There are several types of demons, but they don't all become visible to us immediately upon entering our realm. In some cases, it just takes time before it makes an appearance in its true state. For others, it may take exposure to extreme cold or extreme heat. Those types do not change form. They are what they appear to be, neither human nor animal, but something else entirely. That sounds like what you described when you first saw this demon in the trench, Langley. Except yours changed, and that's the other type of demon. Those
do
change form, but usually only once. They may turn into an element—fire or water—or even an inanimate object if they've accidentally consumed one thinking it's sustenance. There is a small but deadly sub-set of the species called shape-shifting demons. They can become multiple things and can change constantly, depending upon what they've consumed."

"Consumed, sustenance," Sylvia echoed, looking a little gray. "I don't think I'm going to like this."

"Probably not," Mrs. Beaufort said with sympathy.

"Most form-changing demons, however, can only alter their appearance once and that change occurs when they first consume the essence of something. The demon then turns into that thing and becomes visible to us in that form. It won't change again, no matter what it attacks."

"When you say consume, do you mean eaten?" Samuel asked.

"In a way," said Mr. Culvert. "Perhaps feasting is a better term. A demon can feast on souls or energy as well as flesh."

"So if it took on the form of the first thing it consumed," Tommy said, frowning, "why didn't it look like the builder? He was the demon's first, uh, meal."

Sylvia pressed a hand to her stomach. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Mr. Culvert shrugged. "I don't know."

"Spirits," I said and everyone looked at me. "You said it can feast on souls, Mr. Culvert. Perhaps the demon consumed something
before
the builder, and that's the form it took and kept. It came from the dungeon," I said to Jack.

"The spirits of the children," he murmured.

Sylvia gave a little cry and dropped her needle. "The deformed Frakingham children. Yes, of course."

We told our guests about the children one of the Lords Frakingham had imprisoned in his dungeon—the same dungeon that had been uncovered during the building repairs and from which the demon had emerged.

"They were said to be imperfect," Jack told them. "Lord Frakingham didn't want the world to know about them so he kept them locked away."

"How awful," Mrs. Beaufort said, tears in her eyes. She seemed far more shocked about that than she did about the demon. "If only I'd known, I could have spoken to them before…"

Her husband put his arm around her shoulders and held her close. She in turn reached for Miss Moreau's hand and when she found it, gave it a squeeze. Both women looked utterly bereft.

To me, the story of the children being locked in the dungeon resonated because of my own situation, but it was still only a story of events that happened a long time ago. The passage of time had lessened the effect on me somewhat. To Mrs. Beaufort and her aunt, however, it must be different. Spirits were real to them, like lost people, and being children must make it so much worse. As mediums, both women helped spirits cross over to the otherworld, but the poor souls of those children might never make it now.

"Mr. Culvert," Tommy said quietly, "are you saying that by the time we saw it in the woods, it had taken on the characteristics of the children from the dungeon?"

"The characteristics of their spirits, yes. Unless we're dealing with a shape-shifting demon, this demon has somehow consumed all the souls of the children together. My guess is that they'd been down there so long, they'd become a single spiritual entity. The demon was able to consume them altogether, but it didn't change form immediately. They don't always. Some do, but others may take a few minutes."

Jack shook his head. "None of this explains why I saw it in the trench when no one else could."

Mr. Culvert looked at his friends and shrugged. "I don't know. I've never known anyone able to see a demon in solid form immediately upon arrival in our realm. Emily, you didn't, did you?"

Mrs. Beaufort shook her head. "I saw a shape-shifting demon many years ago," she told us. "It looked smoky to me until it took on its first human form."

"Let me do some research," Mr. Culvert said. "It's a mystery to solve, and not the only one."

"What is the other?" I asked.

"How did it get into the dungeon in the first place? Was it summoned by someone or did it fall through a portal accidentally, and if so, how was the portal opened?"

"There is another mystery to solve too," Jack said. "How to send it back."

"Or kill it," Tommy said.

"Sending it back will depend on how it got here," Mr. Culvert said. "If it was summoned, then another incantation will banish it. Killing it, on the other hand, is also possible by removing its head with a blade forged in the Otherworld."

"Did you bring one with you?" Sylvia asked.

He chuckled. "Unfortunately I don't have one in my possession here or at home. They're not easily found in this realm. Let me get my books and see what else we can discover about this particular demon."

He fetched his books while Jack sketched what he'd seen. When he returned, Mr. Culvert handed out the books and we paired up to pore over them. Even Tommy leaned over Samuel's shoulder, propriety forgotten. Nobody seemed to care that he'd taken himself off duty, and I suspected I'd been worried all this time for nothing. The Beauforts seemed perfectly at ease with Tommy around.

Jack and I sat very close to one another, but did not touch. When Mr. Culvert handed out the books, it seemed natural that Jack and I would be together. We read in silence, but gradually the temperature surrounding us increased. I could feel heat vibrating off him and my blood began to throb. I moved away and went to sit by the window, as far from the fireplace and the circle of readers as I could get without leaving the room.