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“See? We’ve all got exciting evenings planned.” I grinned as I speared a Brussels sprout and popped it into my mouth. “Oh, by the way, what was that object you gave to Morrie?”
“What object?” Quoth flicked a strand of obsidian hair over his shoulder.
“When you came in the window earlier, you had something in your mouth. I think it was a metal object?”
“Oh, that. The birds gave me back the strap to Morrie’s watch. Apparently, it wasn’t shiny enough to interest them.” Quoth nuzzled my cheek. “Stop worrying about my nonsense and eat up. You don’t want to be late.”
* * *
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Quoth asked forty minutes later as we walked down the stairs. “Having your work critiqued can be pretty harrowing. I’ve had to sit through some awful group sessions at art school.”
“It’s fine.” I flashed him a smile. “If I’m going to be a published writer, I need to get used to reviews and critiques. And I’m happy with what I wrote today.”
My stomach squirmed. I was lying to myself. I didn’t particularly want to go back into that room with today’s writing and listen to everyone bash it. But being critiqued was how artists learned to be better. I’d given a few people my manuscript to read – Heathcliff, Quoth, and Morrie, of course. Mrs. Ellis. Jo. Grimalkin. They all loved it, except for Grimalkin, who declared that the mother of the most famous poet to have ever lived wouldn’t stoop to reading anything unless it was written in Homeric Greek, and then she threw up a hairball on top of it.
But that wasn’t the same as getting feedback from actual writers. And I was not going to let Hugh and Charlie get to me. I’d decided that once I finished the course, I would make a complaint to Red Herring Press. Hugh may be good at spotting a thriller, but he definitely shouldn’t be able to behave the way he does. It was the right thing to do.
“We believe in you.” Quoth kissed my head. “If you need me, I’ll be in the art suite. Just send me a text and I’ll come running.”
“And I’m locking Heathcliff in the meditation room,” Morrie said, dragging Heathcliff in the direction of the spa. “He won’t be anywhere near the library this evening.”
“Good. Thank you.”
I hugged the copies of my new chapter close to my chest and directed Oscar to head in the opposite direction, toward the library. Halfway there, I stopped beside one of the arched gothic windows to peer out across the estate just as lightning forked across the sky, illuminating the bedraggled gardens. Rain pelted down and the sculpted trees bent so far over in the wind that they looked like they would snap in half.
Another flash of lightning, and I caught sight of an enormous black bird soaring past the window. With the other ravens locked up in the aviary, it had to be Quoth. And he was carrying an object in his beak. I wondered if he was bringing more of Morrie’s prized watch collection to his feathery friends.
Be safe out there, birdie.
It really was an awful storm. Even though I didn’t like Hugh or any of the other writers, I did love being inside the ancient castle during this horrible weather. I felt safe and protected by the old stone walls and the cozy fires everywhere.
The door to the library was closed when I arrived. I tried the handle, but it was locked. I knocked again. “Hello, are we still doing the—”
The door flung open, and Donna stood on the threshold. “Oh, Mina, good. We didn’t know if you were coming. I’m locking us in while we do our critique, just to avoid any…disturbances.”
“That’s completely fair. I’m so sorry for Heathcliff’s behavior. It was completely uncalled for.”
“Please, I’d like to have a swarthy, magnificent hero like that to defend my honor! Besides, it’s far from the craziest thing that’s ever happened here at Meddleworth,” Donna said with a smile in her voice. “Just ask Jonathan – he’ll tell you some stories. His knowledge of this place has been absolutely invaluable for my book. Although you and your fellows may merit a mention. I went to find Heathcliff earlier and talk to him about his behavior, only to have one of my staff members tell me that she found all three of them huddled under a pile of towels in the laundry cupboard, holding a secret meeting.”
“They were?” That was odd. I thought Heathcliff said that he texted Morrie and Quoth, but Donna is saying that she saw them together?
“Yes. They looked quite guilty when I shooed them out. And Heathcliff took his tongue lashing well.” Donna stepped aside. “Anyway, let’s put it behind us and enjoy our evening.”
Unsettled by the strange story she’d told me, Oscar and I followed Donna inside. The library lights were dimmed, with only a couple of lamps near the fire casting low shadows. But the fireplace burned with a bright orange fire, flames leaping and dancing, casting eldritch shadows across the walls. I was drawn to the fire immediately. My eyes loved dancing light and my body craved the crushing warmth of a fireplace in the middle of a storm.
I sat down in my same seat from earlier, beside Christina on the couch. I twisted myself and could just make out the edges of people where the light touched them. Everyone was in the same places as earlier.
No one spoke.
Hugh strode in just as thunder rumbled through the old castle walls. “Donna, I think you’d better call the police. We have a thief in our midst.”
Donna leaped to her feet, her voice concerned. “What are you talking about, Hugh? Has something been stolen?”
“It certainly has.” Hugh slammed his fist down on the tiny table next to his chair. “I had my lucky pen with me during this morning’s lecture, and after that brute attacked me, it disappeared. Someone in this room stole it.”
“Now, now, I’m sure it just rolled away in the tussle.” Donna snapped her fingers. “I’ll call Jonathan to look for it after we’ve finished our critique session. In the meantime, I’ll get you another pen. We have hundreds in the staff supply cupboard.”
Donna left to get him a pen, and Hugh slumped down in his chair. “I can’t believe I’m expected to work in these conditions…” he muttered. “First, I’m attacked by a crazed psychopath, and now I’m stuck in this creaky old castle during a storm with a rotten thief who stole…hey, what’s this doing here?”
