Serafina and the Twisted Staff (The Serafina Series) (22 page)

Slipping out through a side door, she darted along the columns at the front of the house, beneath the strange creatures carved into the tops of the columns and the gargoyles mounted along the
edge of the roof. Few people seemed to notice them, but she had always been fascinated by the menagerie of Gothic carvings that adorned the house – weird dragons and chimeras, seahorses and
sea serpents, bearded men and fanged beasts, strange girls with wings, mysterious figures in cloak and hood, and a hundred other fantastical creatures of the imagination. She had always wondered
where Biltmore’s stone carvers had come up with their ideas.

She ran down the steps to the long, wisteria-covered pergola that bordered the south terrace – a flat, open, grass-covered courtyard with a picturesque view of the river valley and the
mountains beyond. Braeden and Lady Rowena stood on the terrace alone, gazing out at the scenery. Serafina had been hoping that Lady Rowena’s father had finally arrived and taken her away, but
clearly that hadn’t happened.

Serafina desperately wanted to talk to Braeden, to warn him about what she’d learned in the mountains, but she couldn’t do it with Lady Rowena there. She ran down the length of the
pergola, came up the steps that approached from the other side and then peeked across the terrace.

Lady Rowena wore a peacock-blue walking dress with an elaborate triple lapel, a black-laced throat and a collar that stood high round the back of her neck, as if holding the tumble of her red
hair. She carried a matching parasol casually over her shoulder to protect herself from the sun. She reminded Serafina of the girls depicted in the hand-coloured fashion plates of the ladies’
magazines. She seemed to have a new dress or outfit for every activity and time of day.

But the sight of Braeden and Lady Rowena together wasn’t the most startling thing. What surprised Serafina was that Braeden was carrying a large bird of prey on his leather-gloved left
hand.

That must be Kess, Braeden’s peregrine falcon with the broken wing
.

Kess was a strikingly handsome bird, with blue-grey wings and back, and a pale breast streaked with dark bars. Her throat was pure white, but much of her head was black, like she was wearing a
helmet and mask, ready for aerial battle. But what Serafina loved most of all were Kess’s powerful yellow talons with long, curving black claws, perfect for raking her prey from the sky.

‘It’s a rather menacing-looking creature, isn’t it?’ Lady Rowena remarked to Braeden.

When Serafina heard Lady Rowena say this about such a beautiful bird of prey, she struggled to keep herself calm. She wanted to yell,
That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever
heard!
but she was pretty sure that at least one of them would figure out who it was hiding in the bushes.

‘I think she’s beautiful,’ Braeden said calmly.

There was something about his tone that caught Serafina. He didn’t seem angry or annoyed like she thought he should be. If anything, he seemed a bit distant, like he had other things on
his mind. But then he seemed to slowly bring himself round and focus on the moment at hand.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘let’s see what she can do today . . .’

Braeden had told her that the falcon would never be able to fly again. She thought it was kind of him to bring Kess out into the sunlight, at least, so that she could look around and remember
better days. But then, to Serafina’s amazement, Braeden lowered his arm and threw the falcon up into the sky. Kess didn’t just fly; she flapped up into the breeze and soared, calling
out in pure joy. Serafina could see the smile on Braeden’s face as he pointed to the bird and talked to Lady Rowena, excitedly sharing all the different facts he knew about hawks and falcons.
Kess’s flight had changed his mood entirely.

The flying peregrine had long, pointed wings that pumped her through the sky, and a long tail that she used for steering and braking. Serafina could tell that she was still favouring her damaged
wing, but she seemed so happy to be in the sky even for a little while. But it bewildered Serafina. How did Braeden fix a broken wing that could not be fixed?

Lady Rowena watched the flying falcon in silence as if nothing she was seeing impressed her. Serafina wanted to scratch her eyes out more than ever. But right at that moment something
extraordinary happened. A red fox ran up the steps, brushed past Serafina and trotted across the south terrace towards Braeden and Lady Rowena. The fox had a beautiful red-and-silver coat, with
black legs, a white underside and a huge, puffy red tail. Its ears were perked up, its nose pointed and its eyes alert.

When Lady Rowena saw the fox coming towards her and Braeden, she screamed, ‘An animal!’

The startled fox paused and sat a few yards away from them as if he were sorry that he had scared the girl in the fancy dress.

But Braeden squatted down and faced the fox. ‘Come on, little guy. We won’t hurt you,’ he said, stretching out his hand. ‘You’re welcome to join us. How’s
your paw doing?’

The fox walked up to Braeden and sat at his feet.

Serafina watched in amazement. A dog or a horse was one thing, but how could Braeden befriend a wild fox?

Keeping low, she crawled up a few more steps to get a closer look.

The falcon continued to circle in the open air out beyond the wall where Braeden and Lady Rowena were standing. When Braeden whistled, the bird tilted her wing and looked at him.

Braeden smiled. ‘Did you see that? Did you see how she looked over at us? She’s so happy!’

‘Well, I must say, it does seem to like you,’ Lady Rowena said with a smile, finally giving in to Braeden’s enthusiasm as she watched the bird fly around them.

‘She’s a girl,’ Braeden said gently. ‘Her name is Kess.’

He seemed to be so willing to teach Lady Rowena about animals and show her a better way of thinking, like he understood that she was from the city and didn’t understand animals the way he
did. Serafina thought he was far more patient than she could ever be.

‘Can you get it to do whatever you tell it to do?’ Lady Rowena asked. ‘Does it follow your commands?’

‘No,’ Braeden said. ‘She’s my friend. I do things for her and she does things for me.’

‘I see . . .’ Lady Rowena said thoughtfully, looking up at the bird. Suddenly, this interested her. She turned and pointed towards the ridge of the house. ‘Can you have it kill
one of those pigeons up there?’

‘Actually, those are mourning doves, not pigeons,’ Braeden said, but he looked towards the doves and then looked towards the falcon. ‘I suppose,’ he said uncertainly,
‘but I don’t want her to stress her wing. And I don’t think she’s hungry. I fed her some
chicken à la crème
this afternoon, and she seemed to like that
very much.’

Serafina smiled. Classic Braeden. Stealing gourmet meals from under the nose of Biltmore’s French chef to feed to his animal friends. When Serafina’s stomach growled, she realised
she wouldn’t have minded some of that chicken something-something herself.

‘So it can’t actually do anything useful, then,’ Lady Rowena said. ‘You haven’t taught it any tricks.’

Braeden quietly knelt down and petted the fox’s head and ears. He finally seemed a little discouraged by Lady Rowena’s words. ‘I have an idea,’ he said, standing once
more. ‘Let’s try this . . .’ He walked a few feet and picked up a stick.

‘What are you going to do with that?’ Lady Rowena asked.

‘Kess’s wing is still on the mend, but let’s see if she wants to play a little.’

Braeden hurled the stick up into the sky, then gave a long, whistling call.

The whistle and the flashing, somersaulting stick caught the falcon’s attention immediately. She rolled, tucked her wings and plunged into a stoop. She dived, plummeting at high speed
through the air. At the last second, she pulled back her wings, thrust out her talons and grabbed the stick.

‘She got it!’ Braeden exclaimed.

Serafina’s heart leapt with the thrill of seeing the bird in action.

‘Well, look at that,’ Lady Rowena said.

Even Miss Hoity-Toity is impressed
, Serafina thought with a smile.

But then the falcon came gliding towards Lady Rowena at head level.

‘What is it doing?’ Lady Rowena asked, cowering back and shielding herself with her parasol. ‘Why is it flying at me? Tell it to stop!’

The falcon flew over her head and dropped the stick on her. ‘Help! It’s attacking me!’ Lady Rowena screamed as the stick bounced harmlessly off her parasol and fell to the
ground. The fox darted in, grabbed it and trotted over to Braeden as if they were all playing a grand game of fetch.

‘They’re just playing with you,’ Braeden assured Lady Rowena.

As he knelt down and petted the fox again, he gazed up at the flying falcon. ‘She’s such a wonderful bird,’ he said. Serafina could hear the admiration in his voice, and maybe
a little sadness. ‘Once her wing has healed all the way, she’ll be ready to fly long distances again, and she’ll continue her migration to South America. Can you imagine flying
all the way to the jungles of Peru?’

‘Well, I have to say, it seems a shame to let it go after all the work you’ve put into it,’ Lady Rowena said. ‘You don’t want to lose it. Perhaps you can use a rope
to tie it to a branch so it can’t get away.’

‘If you tied her with a rope, she couldn’t fly,’ Braeden said, horrified by the thought.

‘A string, then, or a steel wire, something to control it. A steel wire would definitely work.’

As Serafina fumed over Lady Rowena’s horrible suggestion, Braeden whistled a low warbling call.

The falcon turned and flew towards him.

‘Watch out!’ Lady Rowena cried.

But the bird came in for a nearly perfect landing on his arm.

‘Kess is my friend,’ Braeden said. ‘Friendship is more powerful than the strongest wire.’

As the fox trotted into the woods, and Braeden and Lady Rowena walked back towards the house, Braeden carried Kess on his arm. ‘Would you like to come to the stables with me while I put
Kess away?’

‘Of course not,’ Lady Rowena said, wrinkling her nose.

‘Come with me,’ Braeden urged her. ‘I’ll show you the mew we built for Kess.’

‘I don’t go into stables of any kind. I might get my clothes dirty,’ Lady Rowena said haughtily. ‘I shall go upstairs and change for our stroll.’ With this, Lady
Rowena separated from Braeden and went into the house.

Serafina quickly followed Braeden as he walked towards the stables. She hoped she could talk to him alone. But as she came up behind him, her stomach felt like it was spinning. What could she
say that would make any difference to him? How could she explain what happened? Before she could work up the courage to say something, the stablemen came into view and she lost her chance.

A few minutes later, as the sun was beginning to set, Braeden met Lady Rowena out in front of the house again.

Serafina was surprised to see that the English girl had completely changed her appearance in a short amount of time. Her hair, her clothing and her accoutrements were all different. Apparently,
going for a walk on the wooded paths of the estate required a completely different outfit from what she’d had on while standing on the terrace.

Lady Rowena now wore what looked like a girl’s hiking outfit from a grand shop in London, with a formfitting buttoned jacket, a long dark skirt, and jaunty leather ankle boots. And, of
course, the outfit came complete with a matching hat, a small pair of opera glasses, presumably to better enjoy the natural scenery, and a fancy, obviously useless feather-adorned hiking staff.

Braeden and Lady Rowena walked side by side down the estate’s wide, perfectly manicured paths. These were just the type of fancy folk that Mr Olmsted had designed the paths for, to give
them the feeling that they were in nature, that they were in the deep parts of the forest, but without the inconvenience or discomfort. Serafina followed at a safe distance, trying to figure out
what to do. She needed to talk to Braeden, but here Lady Rowena was again, blocking her way! As they passed through a grove of hemlock, oak and maple trees, she couldn’t quite manage to hear
what they were saying, but they seemed to be deep in conversation about something.

As Braeden continued to talk with Lady Rowena, Serafina felt an itch creeping up her spine. At first she thought it might be the aggravating tone of Lady Rowena’s high and mighty accent or
the annoying tilt of her overly stylish hat, but she slowly realised that it was something far more serious than that.

Serafina scanned the forest. She spotted a dark shape on a branch, high up in a nearby tree. The sight of it put a lump in her throat and she became very still, not wanting to move another inch
lest it notice her. It was deep in the cover of branches and difficult to see, but from its silhouette it appeared it might be an owl or some other type of large bird. She couldn’t make out
the details or colours of the creature, but she could see that it had a rounded head and no ear tufts. Owls normally slept in the day, of course, but, as night came on, this one seemed to be
perched there in the canopy of the trees, silently watching Braeden and Rowena on the forest floor below.

Serafina decided that she could wait no longer, whether Rowena was there or not. She had to talk to Braeden.

As she rose to approach him, she remembered Braeden on his knees crying in anguish in a pool of blood at Gidean’s side and Rowena screaming at her to get out of Biltmore. She remembered
biting the footman and running away in shame. A hot flush flashed through her body. Her legs wobbled beneath her. But she pushed herself on. She stepped out of the bushes, walked up behind Braeden
and Rowena, and spoke.

‘Braeden, it’s me . . .’