The Secret of the Emerald Sea (22 page)

Chapter Fifty-Four

Blake made his way to the Crown of Thorns that evening, carrying with him some books of poetry and plays to read to Liesel. He did not feel the same excitement that made his belly churn and his cheeks flush when he thought of seeing Jane, but he put it out of his mind. Liesel was always there for him, and if she was not as bright or beautiful as the fair Jane who had abandoned him, so be it. At least she was a friend. Blake had trouble making connections in the village, especially now since his father had died under such mysterious circumstances.

He felt that the villagers were somehow leery of him, as though he brought bad luck. They were friendly and sympathetic, but he was of another class, and they did not try to get close to him as they used to. He was lonely and sad. Only at night, when the tea Liesel gave him soothed his weary nerves and his emotions, could he rest and feel at peace.

He knew his mother was wary of Liesel, and felt that the tea was unhealthy for him. She had spoken to him about it, asking him to stop drinking it, but he could not. He remembered the sleepless nights when there had been no tea for him, when he would cry in his bed and toss and turn, haunted by memories. Only the hot tea would make these feelings disappear, but the peace never lasted.

* * * *

Liesel prepared for him in her room, rouging her still smooth cheeks.
How much longer will I look this way
? she wondered, blending the rosy stain into her skin. The fear was always with her, pushing her forward. Blake was so handsome, so sweet. She had her love potion, which would always lead him back to her, despite his misgivings and worries, but she must not...change.

The sky outside her window was dark gray and dreary. Night was coming on, and she wore her warmest gown, in royal blue, against the late winter chill. Her hair was polished smooth with repeated brushing and fragrant pomade. Her ears displayed small rubies—or perhaps they were garnets; the seller could have lied—that dangled and danced in the dim light.

Today, I will kiss him
, she thought dreamily, staring at her reflection.
Today I will touch his soft hair, so soft, and hold his hand
. She knew she must act quickly, for she had been here for days upon days, and the magic could not last. Hecate would wait perhaps for a little while longer, but the time would come when the price would need to be paid.
There must be some way out of this
, she thought feverishly
. Some way to escape
.

She remembered the sounds of Sisyphus, his terrible groans, as he pushed the huge boulder upward. Her magic was so strong now. She knew that Hecate had interfered and given her more power. She would use it tonight to seduce the young man, and then she would try to find a way,
any way
, to avoid her fate. In her heart, she felt terror for she knew that Hecate and her dark lord, Pluto, were stronger than she could ever hope to be.

I could go to the gods, and ask them to spare me this
, she thought, her eyes filling with tears.
But Minerva, that wretched Minerva, would never let me be free
.
And I have killed, now
.

Blake knocked on the plain wooden door that led to her simple room, and she wiped her eyes on her sleeve and pinched her cheeks. She smiled at her reflection, almost certain she could see the crone that hid behind the bright eyes and pink cheeks. She shuddered, then walked slowly toward the door.
It must be tonight
, she thought wildly
. It has to be this night, for who knows if I will ever have this chance again?

* * * *

The villagers had smiled knowingly as young Lord Stirling climbed the stairs to the rooms above the pub. They whispered among themselves, and Blake’s cheeks burned scarlet as he imagined what they must have been saying about him, and about Liesel.
It was wrong of me to come here
, he thought in despair
. It is shameful and wrong to visit a girl in this manner
.

“I need the tea,” he whispered, calming his mind. He stood for a moment in front of her door, hidden at last from the jeers of the people downstairs, and collected himself, letting his heartbeat slow and his high color retreat. The urge to flee was strong, so strong. It was like his father’s voice...loud and commanding.

He would be ashamed of me
,
coming here
, Blake thought,
and so would my mother
. He knew he was only visiting, but no one would believe it. It was improper to see Liesel without a chaperone, and before this, there had always been others present when they were together. Nonetheless, he banged on the door and, in seconds, was ushered into the room, which had the same lovely smell as the tea he drank at night. Only stronger, almost cloying in its floral sweetness.

He felt his head cloud with the heavy scent, and he saw Liesel smile at him in welcome. She offered him a cup of tea and he sat on the edge of her bed—for there was no other place to sit—watching her fuss with her gown, a bit nervously, or so it seemed to him.

They talked for a while, of Jane, of his father, and of all the things that had come to pass since Blake returned to the village. The only thing he did not tell her was that an arrow had pierced his side at the Christmas pageant. He would never tell anyone else about this. Only sometimes he longed to speak of it with Jane, who was only a memory now..

As he drank his tea, he started to relax, his eyes growing languid. He felt the delicious peace creep over him like a shadow, blanketing him in comfort, albeit a dark comfort, like oblivion.

* * * *

“Relax,” Liesel whispered comfortingly, moving toward him and sitting beside him.
I mustn’t give him too much, or he’ll sleep
, she thought, and so she took his mug from him and set it aside. It was empty, but the tea was weak enough that everything should be all right.

She had scented the room with oil made from the same flower; its properties were legendary. She felt peaceful in herself, if a little weaker, as the tea she had also drunk acted upon her own body. They sat in companionable silence, and she took Blake’s hand as the sky grew black outside the window. She had pulled the shade, but still, it was full night now, she knew, and the perfect time for spells and magic. She took the boy’s hand and held it gently, smiling at him.

He looked back at her with warm, brown eyes that seemed hazy and unfocused. He did not squeeze her hand, or reach for her to kiss her. He only sat with her passively, neither returning more rejecting her overtures. She felt her heart pound hard as she stared at his handsome face, so close to her own. He was beautiful, like her own true love, which had lived on in her memories all of this time.

She closed her eyes for a moment—for the tea made one dream, and that was why she had indulged in it—and she felt she could almost see
his
face in the features of the young man. She moved closer, running her lips along his jaw line, barely touching his skin, which smelled so pure and clean, as though he were a child indeed. He did not resist, only stirred slightly beside her as if wakened from his own dream, of someone else.

He thinks of her
, Liesel thought, amused.
And I think of my own true love, but we shall find comfort in one another instead
. And she moved her lips toward the boy’s, and leaned in to kiss him deeply.

A loud knock on the door, harsh and unrelenting, woke them both from their respective dreams. Liesel pulled away from the boy, misery filling her body.
Who is it
? she thought angrily, for the moment was ruined now, and it had been much effort to prepare things, to make the room perfect, the tea the proper strength, and all the rest of it. Blake shook his head and stood up slowly, as though he were sleepwalking, and he let her go to the door as he moved toward the window, staring out from the shade he raised up.

Liesel opened the door and saw that no one was outside. But the knock had happened only seconds ago. She headed down the hall, walking fast, feeling her face go hot with rage. She looked all about the back stairs, but no one seemed to be there. She stared down into the pub from the upper level from an alcove, looking for the person who had disturbed her plans, but everyone there seemed to be content and comfortable in their chairs, as though they had been there for hours.

Liesel walked downstairs and out the back door and she ran down the road, remembering the creature in the sky and thinking about all the things that could still go wrong for her—the way things had gone wrong tonight.
I’ll look for five minutes only
, she thought,
and then go back to him
.

The urge for revenge, and also a strange sort of fear, was pushing her out into the night. She saw the boy watching her from the window, and she held up her hand to indicate five minutes. He nodded passively, for he was under the spell of the tea, and the room’s scent, which was everywhere, and she knew he would sleep while she searched, at least for a while.
I heard that knock
, she thought.
I know I did, and he heard it, too...but who was it
?

She felt cold as she walked away, staring toward the edges of the town and the dark forest, which was almost invisible in the darkness. She glanced up at the sky, but there was nothing, or no one, there. She felt the rage build in her body like a disease, spreading and multiplying, and she could almost taste it like poison trickling down her throat. Even the tea could not make her feel better, though it would be in her system for about an hour.

She turned toward the old farmhouse where Jane had lived, and she reached into her pocket where her iron dagger was always ready, tucked in a leather pouch to protect the honed blade. If the knock had been an enchantment, she knew that someone else was about, toying with her, and she must find out whom.
I will search the farmhouse while he sleeps
, she thought,
and, if anyone is there, I will kill them.

* * * *

Blake lay down on the bed, falling into sleep almost immediately, a small smile on his face. He did not care that Liesel was gone. In fact, he was glad, for he only wanted to sleep, and to dream. But the tea did not work as it might, for he was soon beset with nightmares so different from the peaceful dreams he usually had. He woke moments later, drenched in sweat and fearful, for he had dreamed there was a demon under his bed, dark red and glistening, and that it would kill him and drag him to the gates of Hell.

He stood up, feeling alert again, and wondered how long he had been asleep. The room felt cold now, for the fire had died, but the embers were still glowing. Blake looked under the bed, feeling foolish...but the dream had been so real.

He crouched down and poked his head under the bed frame, seeing nothing but some glimmering sphere, like a large pearl, near the other side. There
was
something there, but it wasn’t a demon or a monster. Blake stood up, walked around the large bed, reached down and grabbed the thing, which was only a glass ball. It seemed to be full of curling smoke, white and gray. It glowed opalescent against the darkness.

The ball felt so hot to his touch he thought he might drop it and shatter it. Quickly, he laid it gently on the mattress, watching the cloudy glass carefully. He turned to glance outside of the window. He knew what these balls were, and this was Liesel’s.
Only crones have these things. They are of the dark arts
, he thought, feeling chilled and afraid.
I must get out of here
. His head was clear now. His hands were shaking.

Grabbing the ball with his thick linen handkerchief, he put it in the biggest pocket of his cloak and, forgetting even the books he treasured and had brought along, he walked downstairs and calmly left the pub, not even glancing back to see the expressions of the villagers. He watched the streets carefully for any sign of Liesel, and he headed toward his home to be sure his mother was safe. The ball felt warm through its covering, even through his heavy cloak, but it did not burn anymore. Instead, his side stung, badly now, and he tried not to cry out for he was terribly frightened.

She only came to town just after Father was...hurt
, he thought with dawning horror.
And she gives me this tea, which must be some potion, after all, and she sees me alone in her room
. He wondered who had knocked on the door, that heavy, almost crashing knock that had roused them out of... He dared not think about it.

He almost ran toward the big house. He had never been so glad to see his home. He would have run as fast as he could, but he needed the ball, for he had read that you could look into it and see the future, or secrets. He must not break it! He wondered what the ball would tell him, although he knew it was an evil thing. He would throw it into the fire...but not before he discovered all of its secrets.

He snuck into the house through a side door and quietly let his own butler know he was home. “How is my mother?” he asked, his eyes boring into the older man’s. “Why, my lord, she is fine. She is ready to go to her bed, I think.”

“I need you to stand watch over her tonight instead of guarding my own chambers. She has her maid, but I need you to stay close to her room, watching for...anything unusual.” The butler blanched as he heard the boy’s words. All the servants feared that the black magic would be visited upon the house, and that they would be turned to stone just like Lord Stirling.

“Yes, milord,” he muttered, hastily turning to go to Lady Stirling’s rooms.

“And don’t let Liesel in this house, under pain of death,” Blake added in a fierce whisper.

Blake went to his father’s gun cabinet and got out his rifle, wondering what good it would do against spells and the blackest witchcraft, but he loaded it and put it on a chair, then closed his bedroom door and sat upon his bed. He pulled the ball out of his cloak and watched the ribbons of smoke inside twist and writhe like serpents.