Page 12 of The Unseen Hour

And I couldn’t deny that focusing on this instead of the season made me feel more adventurous than I ever had. Except perhaps when I was with Pellix.

I couldn’t give that up, and I wouldn’t give up on my father.

It was that thought that had me leaning down, wiping the dust from the drawer’s interior, when my handkerchief caught on something. I tugged, then cursed when the thing came back frayed. I detested needlework, and it would be my responsibility to mend it.

“Blasted fabric!” I scowled at the offending handkerchief.

Grabbing a candle off the desktop, and determined to find and remove the offending splinter from the wood lest I prick myself on it, I leaned back toward the open drawer. Cut into the wood was a tiny notch, so small it would be missed if someone wasn’t looking specifically for it. I reached down and placed a finger in the groove, then pulled.

The bottom of the drawer came away, revealing a hidden compartment beneath. Inside were a couple of folded pieces of paper, tied up in a blue ribbon. I reached in and retrieved them. I recognized the ribbon as one my mother had worn in her hair in the past. Careful not to drip wax on my discovery, I pulled the ribbon loose and unfolded the pages. They were torn along one edge, and I greedily devoured the last words my father had for me.

The key is the Thipp’s.

That single sentence was scrawled across the top. Below it was a list.

– Retrieve Thipp’s

– Test on next hour (away from family – physician’s?)

– Results to Her Majesty

– Replicate

*Only at the brink of death can I greet Death

My heart was a hammer inside my chest as I read over the list several times. He had left us on purpose; at least, that’s what the writing indicated.

Thipp’s root was something I’d seen referenced in Holmes’s diary as well. The brothers had been taking it prior to their own disappearance, to help with the insomnia brought on by whatever ailed them. It struck me because Thipp’s was now known to be dangerous sedative. It was still used, but only by medical professionals during surgery. It was never given out as a mere sleep aid. Which meant, if my father had gone looking for it … was this what I needed if I wanted to follow him?

The first portion of the writing looked more like a plan, but the final section read like a diary entry, my father spilling his thoughts onto the pages.

I don’t need the money, or a reward, that awaits if I achieve this. I’ve sworn secrecy, but there can be no harm if I’m only telling myself.

Her Majesty is determined to retrieve her husband and to fight the hour. She thinks, as I have come to as well, that there is a way past this side to whatever waits beyond. If she wants to retrieve the king and send an army to fight gods, that is her business.

Monarchs think everything can be solved with the strength of an army. Even death.

I seek a solution to protect my family. Each year, this wretched hour takes even those who think they are prepared.

My children are almost all of marriageable age. What of Celia? How can I protect them when they aren’t under my roof?

Something must be done, and for them I will sacrifice anything.

The paper wrinkled in my hands, and I jumped, unclenching my fist. He’d disappeared for us. If he had succeeded, he was wherever or in whatever lay beyond the hour. If he had failed? It had been because he wanted to protect us.

The Unseen Hour and its lost souls were a terror for everyone, but to the most unlucky in Emrys and all of Rayus, it was personal. My father had lost his only brother to the hour, delayed on his way home during a winter storm. He’d never have risked the same happening to us, not if he thought he could prevent it.

The extent of the queen’s involvement was interesting, but I was most intrigued by the Thipp’s. That was the key. Holmes had mentioned it, and now Father had indicated that’s how he’d done it. I would do the same.

I just had to come up with a way to get my hands on the stuff, and then wait for the hour.

From out in the hall, a telltale squeak sounded. It had to be one of the housemaids, awake early and preparing the manor for the day. I tucked the paper into my pocket.

Taking care to remain quiet, I stood on tiptoe on Father’s office chair and blew out each candle, then slid all the drawers shut before peeking out the door. Seeing the coast was clear, I slid out and shut the door behind me. I made my way to the foyer and then sprinted across to the kitchens.

Tilly, one of the housemaids, was straightening a vase of flowers on an entrance table when I emerged back into the foyer.

“Good morning, Tilly.”