Ledgers and Letters
An Inkling of Magic - Chapter 7
In typical fashion of how her whole week had been going, Elspeth had searched through every drawer in the desk and the wall of antique, wooden filing cabinets and she still hadn't found Mr. Grimmlich's inventory logs yet. Frustrated and feeling a little bit woozy from searching like a madman, she collapsed back into the office chair and closed her eyes for just a moment to catch her breath and clear her head.
Her stomach gurgled gently, reminding her that it was now well into the afternoon and she hadn't had anything to eat or drink since breakfast that morning. Hoping that she'd be able to think better if she ate something, Elspeth picked up a small object from off the desk. To anyone else, it looked like just a brass inkwell – pretty enough and old enough, but nothing of tremendous value. Inside, however, was where Elspeth knew Mr. Grimmlich liked to keep a few of his favorite licorice candies.
Popping a couple of the black candies into her mouth, her eyes strayed to the telephone sitting in the right hand corner of the desk just beside the old, Art Deco desk lamp and shook her head. Like everything else in Grimm and Barrett, it had long been passed by as being in any way 'en vogue' or up-to-date with the latest technology or style. In fact, the whole store felt like walking onto the set of a period drama. The only question was, which period, as it proudly displayed furniture, nick-knacks, and styles ranging everywhere from the early 1600s to about the 1940s, many of which were the genuine article as opposed to being a reproduction. The phone in question being no exception. It was a brass and black, dial-tone phone from the 1920s that Mr. Grimmlich had had rewired and was a twin to the one at the front desk of the store.
She'd remarked on them once after she'd watched him hang up from a call, wondering why he still used such antiquated phones when much newer ones, and ones that could identify who it was on the other end of the line before you ever picked up the receiver, were available. It had resulted in her being given a lengthy exposition on how those phones were no ordinary pieces of outmoded technology, but were, apparently, rare grab-a-phones which he passionately insisted would continue to run far beyond the high-tech flapdoodle that was already obsolete from before the time you took it home and got it out of the box, but that at least his were obsolete with style.
Elspeth doubted she had ever laughed so hard in her life as she had listening to him defending his choice of phone. Graciously retracting the question, she never questioned him about it again, and still had to suppress a laugh whenever she saw him use them.
Fond amusement of the memory slipped away as it dawned on her that anyone had yet to report the break-in. She started to reach for the phone, but stopped – her fingers poised just above the phone's handle.
What exactly are you going to report? Her mind whispered. That someone broke in and there's this weird pool of liquid you had to step over that Derek insists is from a mythological, reptile-bird hybrid creature that doesn't exist? That, as far as you can tell, nothing appears to be missing, but that you can't find either Mr. Grimmlich or his log books to find out for sure?
She let her hand drop to the desk.
“They'd probably just laugh and call me crazy anyway,” she muttered with a self-deprecating sigh, her other hand coming up to pinch the bridge of her nose as she tried to think of what to do. Lost in thought, Elspeth's eyes drifted shut.
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Elspeth jolted upright, gasping sharply. She blinked rapidly, her vision still blurry from having been asleep, and tried to bring her erratic breathing under control. As the room came into focus and the fog lifted from her brain, she recognized her surroundings. She'd only meant to close her eyes for a minute or two to help her think, but her body had clearly had other plans. One moment she'd been wracking her brain for ideas of where else Mr. Grimmlich might have stored his inventory logs, and the next something was startling her awake.
Wondering how long she'd been asleep, Elspeth pulled out her phone from her jeans pocket and checked the time. It read just after three thirty meaning she'd been asleep for at least an hour. There were a couple of texts from Kieran and Niamh respectively and a missed call from Farren.
Farren she'd check-in with later, but Elspeth wasn't sure what to do about Kieran and Niamh. They were likely asking if she was free to come over some time that weekend and, ordinarily, she would jump at the chance but Mr. Grimmlich's unusual absence and the break-in changed everything. She was still hovering over the messages and considering whether to read them right then or deal with them later when she heard something – a scratching noise – from the other room. She froze where she was and listened, but there was nothing.
“It's nothing Els, you're just feeling a little jumpy,” she said as she returned her focus to her phone. Typing in her pin, she went back to contemplating her text messages.
She was about to tap on one of them when she heard it again, only this time it was louder. Her messages forgotten, she shoved her phone back into her pocket and hurried out into the store – jumping over the mystery liquid on her way out.
Elspeth's heart began to pound as she heard the scratching yet again, though it sounded a bit fainter now like it was moving away. It was the same sound that Elspeth had heard earlier that week when she'd visited the store after school and could have sworn she'd seen a tail disappearing behind one of the bookshelves.
“That was just your mind playing tricks on you. This is Massachusetts, not Florida, reptiles aren't generally found in bookstores around here,” Elspeth said, trying to reassure herself in order to keep from panicking.
Her eyes scanned down every aisle as she continued to weave her way through the store in pursuit of the source of the scratching noise. So far, her search had turned up nothing.
Perhaps that's a good thing, Els. The more logical part of her mind whispered at her. She knew that was probably true, but her curiosity was burning. Though, admittedly, it was laced with a healthy dose of fear.
After a few more fruitless attempts, Elspeth decided to just give up the search and went back to the back office to do a quick bit of tidying up before she left. The damage wasn't too bad, most of the piles having been there before her and she'd made a concerted effort not to turn his office into a disaster zone, and only had a few things on his desk to straighten up.
Elspeth carefully gathered up the few loose papers she'd disturbed during her search, but as she tapped them against the desk to straighten them, a small scrape of paper fell out of the pile. Setting the pile down, she picked up the piece of paper. She recognized the writing as that of Mr. Grimmlich. In the most elegant calligraphy she'd ever seen, he'd written: Feed Evangeline.
I didn't know he had a pet. Elspeth thought with surprise. He'd never mentioned it before and she had never seen any signs that he owned one.
Setting the note back on the desk, Elspeth wondered what sort of animal 'Evangeline' was and whether Mr. Grimmlich was more of a cat or dog person. He didn't strike her as the exotics type, but, then again, perhaps he was, having a rather exotic personality himself. With one last glance at the note, she left the room, turning the lights off on her way out.
She didn't hear the scratching noise again as she navigated her way through the store, but, had she chanced a glance back at the front counter after turning off the lights, she just might have noticed the fiery, green-gold eyes that watched her in the dark from its favorite place on the old counter.
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Back at home once more, Elspeth carefully crept up the stairs to her room. She'd seen Hayleigh, Kayleigh, and Aiden running amok in the back of the yard, though they hadn't seen her what with the two girls running about screeching while Aiden chased them with goodness knows what, but it was Farren and Maelyn that she was really hoping to avoid.
Though they were speaking in hushed tones, Elspeth could hear them talking in the other room and self-preservation told her she didn't want to hang around long enough to find out whether or not it was her they were talking about. She'd have to face Farren at some point to explain why she'd missed his call, but, until it became absolutely necessary to do so, she had every intention of evading her brother and his questions. At least until she could say more than that she'd fallen asleep in Mr. Grimmlich's office as that might lead to questions of whether he was back and, not being able to answer with an affirmative, that would lead to asking how she came to be in his office when the store was supposed to be locked.
Yes, she still had the keys and could easily have unlocked the store herself, but she hadn't and, while she was perfectly happy to practice evasive maneuvers with their questions, she was not inclined to lie to them. Any sort of questions would inevitably lead to telling them about the break-in and that would lead to a right scolding by both Farren and Mae.
“Safe at last,” Elspeth sighed with relief when she'd made it to her room without being noticed.
She leaned against the closed door, her head leaning back to stare at the ceiling before she closed her eyes to take a deep breath. It had been a very weird and very tiring day and Elspeth had the niggling feeling that it wasn't over yet.
Pushing off from the door, she half-stumbled across her room to flop down on her bed. Slowly reopening her eyes, they fell on the book laying beside her on the unmade covers of her bed. It was the book Mr. Grimmlich had given her. The way it was laying there, it was almost like it was taunting her – daring her to open it.
“I must be out of my mind,” she said with a humourless laugh before she reached out and picked up the book.
With the book clutched against her chest, Elspeth pulled herself the rest of the way onto her bed and propped herself up against her pile of pillows. With her knees bent and the book resting against them, she hesitantly opened the book. She carefully thumbed through the pages until she found the one she wanted and started to read.
The Basilisk:
Born of a serpent or toad's egg and hatched under a cockerel, the 'King of Serpents' is one of the deadliest magical creatures known to exist. It is said it can fell its victims with only a single glance, though the truth of this claim has not been verified as few who are unfortunate enough to have encountered the creature have lived to tell of it.
The precise size of the basilisk remains somewhat of a mystery. There are reports that it is a large and hideous beast marrying the features of both reptile and bird, while other reports claim it is small, no longer than 12 fingers in length. There also appears to be some confusion with its cousin the Cockatrice, another chimeric creature but with the reverse origin of the Basilisk......
The folio had much to say about the creature Derek claimed had produced that noxious, yet oddly beautiful, liquid they'd found dripping from the back office door and onto the floor. Against her better judgment, Elspeth kept reading, hoping to find any mention of its venom. Though she wasn't exactly sure what it was that she hoped to find: something that refuted Derek's claims, or proved them?
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Page after page, Elspeth read about the varying accounts regarding the basilisk's appearance. She found it interesting though that the writer didn't seem to consider them as conflicting at all, but rather as different species of basilisk and discussed each in turn.
So far though, she had been disappointed in her search for information on the creature's venom. There had been a few mentions of it, but they'd largely been vague, sweeping generalities about how dangerous it was and none of the specifics for which she was looking for. Still, she pressed on as she was now too engrossed to even consider abandoning the book for other, more rational, activities.
As she turned the next page to continue reading, Elspeth found a folded up piece of paper tucked away between the pages. Curious, she opened it.
Elspeth gasped and nearly dropped the letter when she read the first words that were written there. It was a letter addressed to her.
Elspeth, my dear fraulein, there is much I wish I could tell you, but, alas, I cannot. Instead, I will say this: do not let fear cloud your senses, you are more sane than you think you are. When you stop fighting yourself, you will understand what I mean. Until then, read this book with the innocent excitement of the child you once were and let your imagination do the rest.
Your friend always,
Edwyn A. Grimmlich
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Elspeth stared in shock at the words before her, her hand trembling slightly as her fingers tightened their grip on the letter. Over and over, she read them, always pausing over the same line.
“What on earth does he mean by 'when I stop fighting myself?” Elspeth cried, her voice a volatile mixture of confusion and frustration and edged with a hint of anguish.
You know exactly what he means. A voice that sounded far too much like Derek's echoed in the roiling chaos of her mind. Why do you deny what you have seen?
“Because what I've seen can't possibly be real!” Elspeth blurted angrily in answer, the letter making crinkling sounds as her hand fisted tightly around it.
With the book lying abandoned in her lap, Elspeth shut her eyes and raised her hands to her ears as if they could somehow block the voice of her tormentor. Even when he wasn't there, he could still get under her skin and threaten her carefully built up walls against the madness. Because it was madness, wasn't it?
Tears streaked down her cheeks, leaving glistening trails in their wake. It was like the path left behind by snails in a garden and just as sticky. Slumping over to lay on her side and face the blankness of her wall as if she could turn her back on the world, the book dug into her arms as she tucked her knees up against her chest and wrapped her arms around them – trapping the book in between. Her whole body shook as she swallowed the frightened wailings that longed to tear from her throat. Despite her emotional turmoil, she was still very much aware of the need to remain as silent as possible in her anguish. Otherwise, she would bring Farren and Mae to her room in a hurry; she was lucky that her solitary outburst against the traitorous voice in her head hadn't already brought them running to her door.
The eruption of tears lasted for only a moment. After spilling out like lava in burning flows down her cheeks, they just as quickly vanished – leaving behind the devastating evidence of their existence and the faint tremors of her body as her breathing slowly evened out and finally stilled its shaking. Sluggishly, she raised a hand to her face and wiped away the sticky, stinging mess of tears. An overwhelming sense of resolve washed over her, brushing aside her fear and pain. She'd never known Mr. Grimmlich to be cruel before and she refused to believe that he was being so now.
Unfolding her body, she quickly shut the book and rolled off the bed. Her feet had barely made contacted with rug before she was off and running out the door with the book still in hand.
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Elspeth flew down the stairs, her feet taking her to someplace her mind hadn't caught up with yet. Wherever it was though, they were in a hurry to get her there. She was in such a rush she didn't even notice her brother standing by the foot of the stairs until she heard his voice coming from behind her.
“Elspeth? I didn't even know you were back yet, when did you...?”
“Sorry, Farren, can't really talk now. Bye!” Elspeth called back to him, her words running together until they were almost indistinguishable.
“Wait, where are you going!” she heard him ask as she swung open the front door with her free hand, but Elspeth ignored him and just continued out the door – careful not to let it slam shut too hard and risk damaging any of the stained glass that adorned it and the surround. She would be in for a world of trouble from their parents if they came home to found Elspeth had damaged any part of the Victorian farmhouse.
Inside, she could hear the muffled cries of Farren calling her name, but Elspeth just shut her eyes and blocked it out. With her hand still gently grasping the ornately decorated bronze doorknob, she took a deep breath. She could feel her control slipping again, but she couldn't let that happen, not when she had questions that needed answering.
“I wish I knew,” Elspeth whispered beneath her breath, at last answering her brother's question. No sooner had the words left her mouth when a name flashed through her mind: Granny O'Rourke. If there was anyone in Hydendale that wouldn't laugh and have her carted off to the funny farm, it was the lady that left treats in her yard for the faeries and believed trolls were after her chickens.
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The walk from her house to where the O'Rourke's lived just outside of town was a fairly long one and, had she been thinking straight, she would have biked there instead of walked. However, apart from her destination, the only thing that had been on Elspeth's mind when she'd resumed her frantic race from the house had simply been to get away from there as quickly as possible before the stunned Farren that she'd left behind in her wake snapped out of his daze and came looking for her. It hadn't occurred to her until she was already at least a mile down the road that biking would have been much easier, or, at the very least, if she'd thought to grab her backpack and spare her arms from the cramps she was now feeling from continuing to carry the book with her.
Elspeth shivered as she trudged down the old dirt road that led to the O'Rourke's house. There was a sharp wind as, despite May being around the corner, winter still refused to release its grip on the weather. It had, at least, given up all attempts to reblanket the landscape in snow, but the rain they'd had off-and-on for the last two weeks had been just as bone-chilling. For the moment at least, the rain appeared to have stopped, settling instead into a persistent mist that clung to the air. It wasn't much of a relief, but it was better than getting drenched clear through to the skin and the squelching feeling of water running inside one's clothing, so Elspeth would take what she could get.
Her legs ached as she walked the last stretch of the gently winding road before it would begin its climb up into the hills that ran along the west side of Hydendale. Ahead of her, she could see the sprawling form of the O'Rourke's house coming into view where the fields met the surrounding woodlands. It had once been a small Colonial home, but with multiple additions made on to it over the years, it had grown to have a significant, if oddly arranged, footprint.
With her destination finally within reach, Elspeth's feet seemed to fill with lead and she had to force herself to take each step.
Are you sure this is a good idea? The seeds of doubt asked, creeping into her mind like poison. The two town crazies meeting like this?
Elspeth swallowed the rising apprehension she felt about going to see Granny. With each step that she took, it grew harder to take the next one; yet she still pressed on until, at last, she stood at the bottom of the stone walkway and stared up at the O'Rourke's pumpkin orange door.
“Now or never,” she laughed shakily and without humour, it was the desperate, half-crazed laugh of someone at the end of their rope grasping at anything that could save them. It was a laugh punctuated by the broken sob of a person so overwhelmed, it felt like they were drowning.
Closing her eyes, Elspeth took a deep breath and made her first step onto the stone path before she could change her mind and turn back. Her arms hugged Mr. Grimmlich's book tightly against her body, now vaguely damp from the moisture in the air that had condensed like dew on the folio's cover. In her head, she could almost hear his voice chastising her for taking it out in such weather.
Well, it's your own fault. If you hadn't disappeared on me, I would be at your store right now asking you these questions instead of out here risking pneumonia chasing my own white rabbit. Elspeth argued with the phantom bookstore owner.
She almost hesitated again when she reached the steps of the wrap-around porch, but fought through it and slowly closed the last few feet that lay between her and the front door.
“This is just silly,” Elspeth muttered at her hand's reluctance to grab hold of the brass door knocker and giveaway her presence outside, “I've been here dozens of times, there's no reason to be so skittish.”
Except that this wasn't anything like her previous visits. She wasn't there to spend time with Kieran and Niamh and to distract herself from her problems. Just the opposite, she was here to try and face them head on – something she had been diligently avoiding since her sanity had first come into question.
“You can do this,” she whispered under her breath.
Swallowing her uncertainty, she reached out her hand towards the heavy door knocker and jolted back for just a second when her fingers grazed the cold, wet surface of metal before stretching it out again. Her fingers wrapped around the smooth, metal handle of the knocker – it was large and filled her whole palm, but plain, unlike the knockers from more prominent homes of the period. With a deep breath, she raised the knocker and brought it down hard against the knocker's back plate – knocking loud enough that there was little chance that it would go unnoticed except on the chance that no one was at home. There was no turning back now.