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That put me off asking any more questions. “I’m sorry for distressing you, Mrs. Gallagher.”
“Della.” She gave me a watery smile. “Call me Della.”
“Thank you, Della. Please call me Vincent.”
“But don’t call him late for dinner,” Margaret said, making all of us laugh. Mrs. Gallagher – Della – said she had to draw water to start the supper, and Margaret volunteered to help.
Feeling more awake, I took a moment to think through what we’d learned. Della clearly mourned her husband’s death, and she believed Martin had tried to protect his family, even after death. Neither she nor Rafe had mentioned the Ferox Cor, but logic told me Martin’s threat to cross the veil must have something to do with that magical object. No matter the reason, what Martin proposed could only end in disaster.
Rafe was a piece that didn’t fit in the puzzle. I needed to examine him more closely, though the very idea made me blush.
To distract myself, I decided to look into that room on the ocean end of the building. For all we knew, Martin Gallagher’s body was being kept there, which didn’t disturb me as much as it should. The burn on my wrist felt quite comfortable, though the bandage snagged on the sleeve of my overcoat. Still, the sun shone weakly, enough to let me know I wouldn’t get rained on.
I left my hat in the house and the wind whipped my hair into a disordered mess. Keeping close to the building, I crunched along the gravel path surrounding the house. The bank of dark clouds in the west had moved closer, and I had to give the sun credit for shining despite that ominous bulk.
Before trying to enter the room, I walked around it. There were three windows; one each wall, with a door on the south side. Cupping my hands on either side of my eyes to cut the sun’s weak glare, I attempted to look through the south window.
Clutter. Boxes, tools, and some sort of detritus, small objects covering the flat surfaces. No Rafe, which I took as a good sign, and no Martin either. I couldn’t make out any further detail, so I moved to the door. Locked, as I assumed it would be. I picked up a stone and stared hard at the lock, as if I could see into its inner workings.
With a small push of power, the rock turned into a key, one that fitted neatly into the lock. I cautiously opened the door, still worried I’d find either Rafe or Martin hiding in the shadows.
The sight before me took my breath away. I’d stumbled upon a workshop, a place where an artist plied his craft. The jumble of small objects I’d seen through the window were, in truth, small carved creatures. Animals, mostly, horses with delicate hooves, sea birds with their wings stretched in flight. Some had been painted, intricate decoration with fine detail. It was as if Noah’s Ark or some magical circus had set up shop here at the end of the world.
Once I could breathe again, I entered, moving slowly so as not to disturb anything. The Ferox Cor could well be in here, hiding amongst all the stuff. The artist’s tools hung on the wall in neat rows and the floor was clean of shavings and sawdust. A small chair had wheels on its legs so someone could move from one desk to the other. I picked up one of the creatures, a tiny mouse. The surface of the wood was silky and polished to a faint shine. Fine whiskers had been painted on its little face, the tail a fragile curl and each small foot tucked against the body.
I’d never seen anything so breathtakingly fine. I set it down and picked up another, a goat, its expression so lifelike I expected it to bleat. There were barn cats and proud lions and fish of unimaginable colors. Was Della the artist, or had Martin made them before he passed away?
I soon had my answer.
A shadow blocked the thin light from the door. I glanced up, managing to set down the conch shell without breaking it. “Rafe?”
“What are you doing in here?”
If this morning he’d been angry, now his voice had a deadly calm that frightened me even more. “I’m, uh, sorry.” There were too many possible weapons hanging on the wall for me to say anything else.
“Please leave. No one is allowed to enter. No one.”
His words fell on me like stones. My heart beat fast, then faster, and my breath grew short. “But,” I gasped, gesturing at the creatures on the table. “These are so beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like them. Who made them? They’re so very good.”
Perhaps my sincerity appealed to him because he let go of a deep sigh. “I made them.”
I took a moment to respond. The Rafe I’d seen so far – cold, hard, angry, and threatening – was also capable of creating beauty. “You’re…amazing. But how…?”
He stiffened, then sighed again. “I allow the Mother to show me.”
Quite obviously the Mother he referred to was someone besides Della. So, like his father, he was a proponent of earth magic. I had no rebuttal for that, sure that my ability to turn a rock into a key didn’t come from some mystical Mother Earth. His creations, however, were lovely.
“I’ll ask you again. Please leave.” His voice held tension, as if he’d have yanked me out more roughly if doing so wouldn’t threaten to break things. “You should not have been able to enter in the first place.”
“My gift is in transformation. I simply turned a rock into a key that would fit your lock.”
“And how did you get through my wards?”
“Not deliberately, I assure you.”
“There must have been a flaw in the spell,” he murmured, reaching for one of the little carvings. “Leave this place and don’t come back.”
I did as he asked, though I had to carefully edge around him to reach the door. I confess his scent, smokey and herbal, drew me in a way I couldn’t explain. I glanced up, intending to apologize, only to find him leaning toward me. His gaze seemed to glide past me, those pitch-black eyes burning through the amber glass.What could he see?I froze, locked in the moment for a heartbeat too long.
