A Nightingale's Tale

Chapter Four

The church was dark and silent when she finally got back. She half expected Arabella or Marcus to have followed her, but to her delight, she was completely alone. She fumbled against the pews and walls, since all the candles had gone out. Her knees ached as she ascended the spiraling stone staircase leading to the singular room at the top of the tower. She hadn’t let the pain of the last month’s nonstop training affect her, until now. Every bone shook, and every muscle tensed, even her skin was sore. She collapsed on her tiny bed as soon as she entered her room. The room was too chilly, from the open window, to enjoy it for long. She threw in two, red, coin-sized stones into her fireplace. Red salamanders unrolled and left tiny footprints of fire everywhere they stepped on the wood in the hearth. Once they were done setting the flames, they curled in the center, like miniature cats, and fell asleep among the fire.

Lydia felt the cold, infant autumn air brushing against the tops of the waves as they crashed onto the broken shore below. The window in her room, was the only one on the entire island that overlooked the wall. Parts of the wall were painted with sea, forest, and field landscapes to give the illusion of not being surrounded by stone, but it wasn’t the same as the view Lydia had, especially first thing in the morning. The granite floor was cold on her bare feet as she leaned over the edge of the window. She pulled herself up onto the stone ledge and stared out at the vast sea. She let her toes mingle in the chilled breeze coming from the waves. On the floor beside her, was a bag of peaches she had traded a few days ago for soap Ara had made her. The juice dripped down her face as she bit into one. She hadn’t eaten all day. She was too nervous this morning to eat and after the tournament the day ran away from her. She looked back at the door to her room that she had already made sure was locked twice plus the runes she had drawn to magically keep anyone out. She tied the bag of peaches around her cloth belt, so she could use both hands. She inhaled deeply and swung her body around the side of the window frame. Vines that ran up the stone walls were her only help in descending the tower. Her feet found the familiar holes in the rocks she had made the dozens of times sneaking off the island.

On the rocky shore, she moved a yellowing fern, which hid her makeshift raft that she used to get to the mainland. The water was colder than it had been last week, autumn was certainly on its way. She sat on her knees and used a piece of driftwood as an ore. As she breathed in, the taste of saltwater almost choked her. Her eyes began to adjust to the darkness and the shore of the mainland changed from a mixture of blacks and purples to actual shapes of trees and rocks. The bottom of her skirt was soaked by the time her feet touched the sand. While trying to keep herself as dry as possible, she misjudged the distance of the shore and fell into the water. The peaches tied to her waist weighed her down as she spat out sea water and clawed for the shore. After pulling the raft out of the water, and stuffed it into a bush, she rung out the excess water and started toward the dark forest.

The forest was pitch black but a light in the distance kept her direction. The light was bouncing up and down the trees as she weaved between them. The echo of a fire cracked like bones against the trees. She was cold now, covered in seawater and not dressed warm enough for the unseasonably cold night. It was always slightly warmer inside the wall of the island than outside of it but she enjoyed the forest and being surrounded by everlasting trees. One never realizes how great endless space is until they are kept inside a wall all their life. Soon, she came to the source of the light. A fire was lit in a circle of rocks with an elderly woman sitting close to it. A great gothic styled house loomed in the background of the woman. The dancing shadow from the fire brought the house to life by making it seem to breathe.

“I brought you peaches,” Lydia said while untying the rope.

“Lydia! I found you two new books,” Edna said, “I wasn’t expecting you back so soon. I wanted to go to the library tomorrow to get more.”

“I didn’t think I would be able to get away this soon.”

Lydia looked around at the cars in the parking lot, his was there.

“He’s inside making tea,” Edna said with a smile.

Lydia sat in the chair next to Edna and they exchanged gifts. They had been doing this exchange every other week, or so, for almost two years. Lydia would bring Edna fruits and vegetables that couldn’t normally be grown on sandy shores and Edna brought Lydia books from the library. Lydia held “Gulliver’s Travels” and “The Bell Jar” in her hands. She was always so glad to get new books. Books were strictly illegal in Covet.

“The tournament was today,” she whispered to Edna.

Edna knew about Lydia’s life on Covet but he didn’t, she just never found the right time to explain to him that she was a magician living on an invisible island out in the ocean only a few miles away from Edna’s house.

“And?” she asked, rubbing a peach in her wrinkled hands.

“I won.”

“Well, congratulations honey, I know how hard you’ve been practicing with umm...what's his name?”

“Marcus,” Lydia whispered.

“Oh yes Marcus,” she said. “The upstairs roof is caving in, I’m going to have to do something about it before the whole house caves in.” Edna never stayed on one subject long.

Edna and her late husband had been the caretakers of the dilapidated mansion since they were married at 18. Edna’s husband had overseen the upkeep of the house while Edna cooked and cleaned for the family that owned the house. She had been doing all the work alone, once her husband passed away a few years ago. That was until he showed up.

Thunder echoed over the sea and brought in storm clouds that covered the stars. A shiver of cool air slid down Lydia’s spine. She huddled closer to the dimming fire trying to dry her soaked clothes.

“Let’s move inside. I made some desserts from those berries you bought me last time,” Edna said dumping a bucket of water on the last remaining flames. The logs crackled and whistled as the water removed the last bit of warmth.

Lydia always enjoyed being in the old house, but she hated to see it becoming dilapidated. In the grand front room, she could hear the trickle of water from the second story roof’s holes. Lydia could imagine what the house must have been like in its greater days. There were ladders and soiled sheets around the house where he had begun fixing the house. Edna started a new fire in the hearth. The light from the fire made the grand room seem much more massive. A large, stained map of the state of Louisiana was framed above the couches. She sat on one of the leather chairs that framed the hearth. The leather smelled sweet like cigars. She wrapped herself in a quilt that hung on the back of the chair. A high-pitched whistle came from the kitchen. The tea was ready. She heard his footsteps in rhythm with the clanging of cups on a tray. Onyx Lagren entered the room wearing black slacks and a grey button-up shirt. He normally had on a wool coat when she saw him even in the heat of summer nights. Tonight, she could see the muscles pressing through his shirt.

“We’ve moved inside I see,” Onyx said with grace and a quick smile to Lydia.

“It’s getting cold,” Edna said.

“Lydia, I’m glad to see you. I didn’t think you would be visiting again so soon.”

“I made some time.”

“You’re soaked. Let me give you something else to put on.”

“I’ll be fine.”

He sat the tray down next to Edna and took Lydia by the hand. Edna had moved some of her clothes into a spare bedroom. Onyx dug through an old blue trunk, with brass locks, at the end of the bed. He shifted through the trunk until he found a baby blue dress.

“You’re quite small, hopefully, this fits,” he said with a wink. Everything he did set her emotions ablaze. She didn't know someone like him could exist and know that she knew he did, she couldn't get enough of him. he brushed a finger against her arm and she was no longer cold.

He left her alone to change. The dress was short and blue with a large white bow in the center. It was very small as if it were for a child. In fact, it looked like something a doll would wear. He must have seriously misjudged her size. She was skinny but too tall to wear something this short. She dug through the trunk until she found a white nightgown that suited her much better.

They were flipping through a photo album when she entered the great room. The smell of ginger and lavender tea warmed Lydia’s senses. This was her happy place, aside from battling.

“You look just like him,” Edna said pointing at a picture.

Onyx looked up at her when she walked back in. He just looked at her completely, taking her entire being into focus. She was suddenly very aware of her body and how he was watching her.

“Oh, I’m so glad those old clothes fit you. You are much smaller than I was when I was your age. Come look,” Edna said.

Lydia stood behind the chair Edna sat in. Onyx placed his arm around her waist and she sunk into him. She couldn’t see the image of his father from that angle but she assumed he had been just as handsome as his son.

“Your father was such a wonderful man. I wish you could have met him I really do. Did I tell you the story of the time he tried to make alligator soup out of specialty meat he bought at the market but it was just chicken!”

Edna cackled and coughed into a handkerchief. She most certainly had already told this story and many other stories of the house's former owner, Onyx’s father William Grant, and his tragic life. His wife died in childbirth and their daughter was extremely ill. She had to stay at the hospital so much Edna didn’t remember what the little girl looked it. Edna and her husband kept the place up and running for the few times over the years the owner was home. When one day he came in so distraught, throwing things around his home, searching for something, then he was never seen again. Edna and her husband stayed in the home hoping for his return. She never saw him again. That was until his doppelganger, actually, his son, came through the door, almost twenty years later, and nearly gave Edna a heart attack. Luckily, Lydia was there that night and was able to tend to Edna. Edna had said, when she regained composure, that he had looked as if William had frozen in time all those years ago and was now walking through the door like no time had passed. Onyx had explained his mother had been a lover of William’s in New York before he met his wife and moved to the mansion on the coast of Louisiana. William didn’t know about Onyx, hence the different last names, until his later years and left everything to his only remaining child. Onyx had a successful business in New York but was interested in restoring the old house to its former glory. When he realized someone had been living in the house the entire time he insisted Edna stay.

“Oh, he was a terrible cook! Great hunter. He brought me all sorts of strange meats cook,” Edna chuckled while flipping through more pictures. Edna’s laugh was contagious and they sat on the couch and listened to her relive her glory days, when “the sun always shone and rainy days didn’t exist.”

Edna was snoring comfortably in the leather armchair in no time. Onyx removed the album from her lap and tucked a blanket over her. He stood and took Lydia by the hand. He made his way up the stairs, teasing Lydia with a finger gesture, begging her to come to him. Lydia followed, she would always follow him. He went to the balcony above the front door and was staring up at the stars. It was a cold, stormy night and she reached for his chest to hug him from behind. He was humming a low melody. She could feel the vibrations of his song in his chest as they swayed back and forth. In this place she felt safe, no one from Covet could get to her with Onyx standing in between them. She laughed at the thought of a human trying to keep back the magical army of a coven.

“What are you laughing about?” he said and spun himself around to face her.

“Oh, nothing,” she said breathing his distinct smell in; fire, tea, and charcoal.

She thought back to the months of passing glances and secret touches. The hours of conversations that led deep into the night. The evenings he taught her to cook with the produce she brought from the island. He would talk about New York and her lust to leave Covet grew more intense daily. He had brought her a silver necklace that she kept in his bedroom on the nightstand. He had asked her about her life but when she was resistant he didn’t push. He didn’t even ask about the strange black glove she had on her right hand, even though he examined it often with both his eyes and fingers. What she did tell him was a lie, that she lived in a house a few miles through the woods. She didn’t even know if there were any other houses out here. She hated lying to him but she couldn’t get herself to tell him. she figured he would think she was mad and he made her feel so sane. This life, here with him and Edna, was the one she felt truly at peace with. She couldn’t risk it, so she made herself seem like a normal human, like him and Edna.

He tucked her loose hair behind her ear and cradled the back of her head in his hands. He always coddled and held her like she was a child. He even changed his tone when he spoke to her as if she were too delicate to be talked to as an adult. If only he knew the things I have been through, she thought.

“Tell me what’s going on in that mind,” he said touching her nose with his index finger. At first, it was endearing having someone taking care of her so diligently. He cooked for her, read to her, and even helped her bathe. It was pleasant since no one had ever really taken care of her. But sometimes, it made her uncomfortable and she wished he treated her more as his lover instead of a paper-thin girl. If he only knew what she was like in Covet, she thought to herself. She knew she probably needed to talk to him about this. She leaned back against his hand holding her head. Before she could push him off her, he pulled her head into his and kissed her passionately, as he had many times before. He slid his fingers under her nightgown. His hands traced the familiar curves of her hips. It set her skin on fire and she enjoyed the burn. She had never wanted to fall in love and yet here she was or what she had always assumed love was. It was a constant needing of another person that at times she felt was unhealthy. She had always watched people her age at Covet falling in love foolishly without realization of how desperately they would, more than likely, be torn apart by marriage pacts. She promised herself she would never succumb to that. But she knew if any of the boys of Covet ever made her tremble, the way Onyx did, she would have given in just as they had. Her thoughts became more incoherent the longer their lips were pressed together. He grabbed beneath her butt and lifted her on the edge of the balcony. The cold stone felt good pressed against her bare skin. They swayed back and forth against each other until they physically couldn’t get any closer without him being inside of her so that was exactly what he did. Even with the chilled night air, she felt as if she were a great blaze burning into the sky. The fire consumed all of her thoughts and torched her limbs until they were numb with desire. She felt like a woman more than she ever had every time they entangled themselves in one another. She didn’t mind if he was condescending every now and then, as long as he made her feel like she was anyone other than Lydia Nightingale for the night.