The Haunting of Skylark Manor (Part 1)
Blood and Starlight Chapter 3 Part 1
Blood and Starlight: A conjurer, a vampire, and a mechanical demon embark on a rescue mission.
Audience: Adults (contains violence, strong language, and sexual content)
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Chapter 3
The Haunting of Skylark Manor (Part 1)
The moon swelled full over the jagged ridges. Brush and vine twisted a violent chokehold about the stone, the air thick with dust and sweet mildewed decay. Ely pressed on well after nightfall. It was more than just the promise of food and merry company that lent vigor to his stride. He had almost forgotten the way the stars whispered here. The air shivered with magic.
The way to Mondacca lay halfway up the second ridge at the edge of a dreamy lagoon. Ely recalled his first glimpse of that rupture, glimmering like a haunted mirror where pale spirits drew up from the inky depths to gaze at the hazy shadows of the city beyond. Seventeen. Maybe give or take a year. Still headstrong and audacious to the brim.
“What's beyond the shimmer?” an ethereal voice trembled in the air.
The being it belonged to appeared as no more than a white mist that swirled above the surface of the lagoon, making gentle ripples in the black water.
“I don't know yet,” Ely said. “But I’ll tell you what I find.”
The spirit made a sound like a gasp as he summoned his black armor about him.
“You're shiny too,” they laughed. “Tell Fiera all you see, conjurer!”
Ely stepped through. One foot landed in refuse heaped in a dingy marketplace alley. He took in the cacophony with grinning wonder. Wading among stalls, he dodged bawling hawkers and gaily painted women beckoning from street corners. This seedy, sinful port was unlike anyplace he had laid eyes on.
When he returned, he found Fiera waiting, eager to hear every detail about the food, the pleasure houses, the Caj tables. Gaudy women flaunting voluptuous merchandise and rough characters that drew pistols at the slightest disagreement.
It was a balmy spring night upon his next visit. He strode through the red-trimmed doors of a brothel, carrying a knapsack full of ancient gold. No one seemed to observe the nervous flutter of his hands or the subtle tension in his brow. Raw nerves hidden behind a mask of vigor. Corseted beauties, shining hair aflutter, bosoms overflowing, surrounded him, all eager to befriend the young man with the overburdened purse.
“What’s your name, handsome?”
“Elyssandro? Sounds foreign. Are you from up north?”
“You like what you see, brown eyes? You’ll like it better unlaced.”
“Who’s that playing? Sure thing, sugar. Charlaine! Give this fine gentleman a serenade.”
The raven-haired siren with the green tiger eyes caught his gaze from her seat at the piano. She delivered the rest of her song to him like she meant every word. Then she left her instrument and approached. A cat stalking very willing prey.
Her smile worked potent, unfamiliar magic that brought blood to his cheeks. He followed her upstairs to discover a new kind of spell. Fiera listened to the story, fascinated, though they didn’t quite grasp the concept of physical sensation.
Ely returned to Mondacca often, widening his radius of exploration at the insistence of his spirit friend. The swollen Gateway River divided the city into two distinct walks of life. On Portside, tumbledown shanties and open air markets stretched all the way to the bay, wrapping about the coastline as far as the eye could see. Across the bridge stood Kingsbank where decadent villas peered out over the gulf from the bluffs. Below, elegant shops, restaurants, and theatres bustled with a well-dressed patronage. There Ely collected tales for Fiera of princesses and promenades. Grand balls. Horse races. Operas.
Wherever he turned up, people welcomed his presence, a little too warmly at times. A curious side effect of death magic. In one memorable incident, a baker's wife lured him into the back kitchen with the promise of pie only to drop her dress by the blazing oven. In another, a wealthy baron with a penchant for painting promised him a villa by the sea if he would stay and become his muse. Fiera laughed and laughed when Ely told them the stories.
Then one day, Ely approached the Mondacca rupture, and Fiera did not appear. He called to the other spirits that stirred lazily beneath the surface of the lake. They ignored him. He closed his eyes, mind submerged in the dark water. Fiera was not there. They were gone.
“Where is Fiera?” he demanded.
He sent blasts of sparking ether into the lagoon until finally a voice hissed, “Fiera went through the shimmer.”
Ely’s blood ran cold. The city of Mondacca stood completely modern. It had no room for the unexplained. In all his travels there, he had not encountered even a whisper of magic save for the stars. He hurried through the portal, tuning out the noise and bustle as he searched for his friend. Had they even survived the rupture? Were they lost in the fold between?
Then he felt it. The slightest tingle of a familiar presence.
Ely set out, searching, calling their name until the road changed from hard-packed dirt to pristine pavement at the bridge. He caught a ride across to Kingsbank on a cart of filigreed panels just offloaded from a ship and ready for delivery to a spice merchant's mansion.
His quest led him along a meandering road to a palatial house far removed from the city. Each wing was constructed of a different material. South corner: rustic wood. East wing: thin layered shale. West cupola: tan stucco. North suite: red brick caped in thick green ivy. A gleaming metal dome protruded from the central hub, its polished surface reflecting the sunlight like a great beacon. With their fixation on all things shiny, it was no wonder Fiera had found their way here.
Ely marched up to the sprawling domicile’s front door and rang the bell. A young woman with a sweet round face, eyes like sapphires, and hair as red as a summer sunrise answered.
"Not who I was expecting, but you'll do," she said, then ushered him inside.
He found himself in a grand foyer with marble floors and columns. A skylight high above streamed vibrant light through stained glass.
“I’m Leanora,” she said, bell-like voice echoing.
“Elyssandro,” he returned, swiveling his head to take in the statues, plants, and curiosities that filled the cavernous space.
Leanora led him through an angled doorway into a dim, lamp-lit hall. No, not lamps. Glass-enclosed lights that burned without flames. They looked like the magic-fueled crystals that Dr. Faidra illuminated back home, but they hummed with strange currents that vibrated in his teeth. Lightning? Electricity! He remembered talk of electric lights in the ballet box.
They entered a library with shelves spanning rounded walls. Leanora led him up a spiraling staircase to a platform where a long brass telescope adorned with gears and nobs extended toward a high, sunny window.
"I have all the calculations, but I can't reach the blasted lens cap," she fumed. Despite her bold demeanor, the top of her head barely reached his chest.
Ely smiled and unscrewed the cap. She laughed with delight then adjusted the telescope, gasping as she looked into it.
"There it is! It looks close enough to touch. Come see!"
She pushed Ely to the eyepiece. He broke into a grin at the sight of the silver comet, its glorious flag ablaze behind it.
"Incredible," he exclaimed.
“Corrigan’s Comet,” she said, once again peering into the telescope. “It can only be seen by the naked eye every ninety years, but from where it is presently in its orbit, I was able to tune the scope for a perfect view. It just needed a few adjustments.”
“Remarkable,” Ely smiled.
“So.” She straightened up. “What brings you to Skylark Manor? A friend of Victor’s, perhaps? He said he was inviting a few from South Sea, but I didn’t think they were arriving until next week.”
"Victor is your…?" Ely led.
“Brother. Can’t you tell? Are you a student?” she questioned.
Ely nodded. That was true enough.
“What subject? No. Don’t tell me. I have a knack for reading people.” She scrutinized him carefully. “Fashion forward. Too avant-garde for science. Literature? Philosophy? I’ll sniff it out. Your accent is interesting. You’re not from Mondacca, but you don’t sound like a midlander either.”
“I–” he began.
“Don’t tell me, Elyssandro.”
He chuckled. “Alright then, tell me about you.”
“I am an Astronomy Fellow at Jade Hill,” she told him.
“Where is that?”
“You're joking.” She waited for him to laugh. “You're not joking. You really are from far away. Good gracious, you're from the Protectorate aren't you?”
“Saint Lucio,” Ely nodded.
“I knew it!” she crowed. “Well, then, my foreign friend, Jade Hill is the premiere institution for scientific research on the continent. It's located in the heart of Zantos about six hours by train.”
Ely was about to ask her what "train" might be when the doorbell clanged.
Leanora beamed. “Excuse me a moment, Elyssandro. I have Fellows to greet.”
Ely followed her back down the stairs. When her footsteps died away in the hall, he called out quietly, “Fiera?”
He closed his eyes, seeking their presence in the vast house.
“Come on, Fiera, this is no place for you!” he hissed.
No response.
Ely sighed then occupied himself with the rows upon rows of books all neatly cataloged by author and topic. It reminded him of the University library, except far less dust and not a single mention of magic.
Voices buzzed in the hallway, and Leanora reappeared with four companions, all young, bright-eyed, and neatly dressed.
There were Étienne and Javier who studied Art and Literature respectively at the Classics Academy in Mondacca. They appeared as flamboyant peacocks in bright satin and patterned silk. Ada and Yves attended Jade Hill with Leanora. Ada was pale as Yves was dark, but with their matching gray suits and contemplative expressions, they resembled one another more than they did the other guests. The arriving Fellows eyed Ely with curiosity as they entered the observatory.
“Elyssandro is a guest of Victor's,” Leanora explained.
“Where is Victor?” Étienne asked before Ely could set her assumption straight.
“He'll be along. He stopped in Brightwater to see some girl,” Leanora replied with a roll of her eyes.
“Damn, is it serious?” Étienne inquired, taking a neatly rolled cigarette from a gold case.
“Victor is never serious. Don't smoke in here, Teensy. Father will have my head.”
The bell jangled again, and they were soon joined by another group of Fellows. Jamien, Hannah, and Roan studied at Jade Hill. Nireen, Gregoire, and Clara hailed from the Judicial Academy in Montalbany.
As their discourse soared, Ely sensed the frantic pulse of a frightened spirit. Fiera had never been around so many fleshly beings before, much less the din of conversation. The study lights began to flicker. No one noticed at first, but as the flashing grew more insistent, all eyes turned upward.
“Looks like you have a ghost, Lea,” Teensy tittered.
“I'll have to get Stephens to see to the wiring,” Leanora commented.
With that, the Fellows disbursed, floating off to pursue conversation in more intimate corners.
Leanora caught Ely's eye and shook her head with a good-natured smile. “Ghosts indeed. Can you imagine? That's an Art Fellow for you.”
Ely laughed, unsure what else to say in response. She was charming, and he did not want to dampen her smile with the news that she did, in fact, have haunted wiring.
“Of course it would happen on my turn to host the Fellows,” she lamented. “We haven't had a spot of trouble even during the storms.”
“Fate has a sense of humor, they say,” Ely offered.
“Fate,” Leanora snorted. “You're funny, Elyssandro.” Her eyes narrowed in thought. “Which means you're not a Fellow of Arithmetics.”
Ely shook his head, confirming her deduction.
“I'm sorry my brother isn't here to keep you company,” Leanora continued. “Typical Victor. I'll find some way to entertain you once I've called Stephens for this electrical disaster.”
“I'll be fine,” Ely assured her.
She scrutinized him again. “Independent and confident. Histrionics? No, you're too reserved. I will figure you out.”
Ely watched her flutter away, her kitten heels tapping on the marble floor. His smile faded to a sigh as he considered that she probably would figure him out all too soon.
A blinking light caught his eye near one of the bookshelves. Ely approached.
“Fiera?” he whispered.
The light sputtered then fell dark.
“Fiera, flash twice if you can understand me.”
The light blinked to life then fell dark, then again once more.
“Fiera, this place is not safe for you. You have to come back with me.”
The light shuddered and flashed as though desperately trying to tell him something.
“Are you stuck?” Ely asked. “Flash twice if you're trapped.”
Blink. Blink.
Ely nodded. “Alright. Stay calm. I'll figure something out.”
The light buzzed so violently that the glass burst. Ely threw a hand in front of his face. A shard stung his palm. When he opened his eyes again, he caught sight of a distinct trail of flickers racing away down the hall.
“Damn it all,” he hissed.
“Everything alright, Elyssandro?” Leanora's voice spooked him.
“Yes, fine,” he replied, forcing a smile. “That light shattered. It was…startling.”
“Oh dear, you're bleeding!” she exclaimed, taking his hand.
“Just a nick,” he shrugged. “I've had worse.”
“Have you?” She eyed him. “Culinary Arts?”
Ely laughed. “I wouldn't test that theory.”
Leanora flashed a saucy grin. “Come on, let's get you fixed up, shall we?”
She took him to a cozy study and sat him in a stiff-backed chair. After a moment's disappearance, she returned with a walnut case that contained bandages, ointments, and various medical supplies.
“It looks like there's still a bit of glass in here,” she assessed.
Leanora found a pair of tweezers in the case and gingerly probed the cut.
“Does that hurt?” she asked, brow furrowed with concern.
“Not at all,” he replied, chuckling to himself at how gentle a nurse she was compared to Dr. Faidra.
Leanora plucked out the glass shard and wrapped his hand in a bandage.
“There,” she said. “I apologize for my misbehaving lights. I'll make it up to you, I promise.”
“That is very kind of you,” Ely smiled.
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