Plagium (Keepers Book 1)

Chapter 15 - In Which Plagium Occurs

"Spot on," Mittie confirmed.

"And then we begin our search for Mr. Porter," Tracey said.

"Right," Mitie replied. "And since Harriet and Charlie know her home so well, we should have no problem finding him."

"Sounds like a plan!" Harriet cheerfully said.

"The performance is about to start, let's go inside," Bentam said. They joined the crowd filtering into Stateshire Theatre.

Inside, the ceilings were encrusted with ornate gold, patches of fine art painted between. The chandelier caught the glittering details and illuminated the brilliant gold that followed down the walls. The carpet was a lush red, muting the crowd's murmurs to a pleasant hum. They weaved through the crowd, made their way through ornate wooden doors, and down the theatre's aisle. Down they went, past the hard wooden economy chairs, the slightly more comfortable economy chairs (equipped with steam-powered binoculars), and the standard plush chairs, before stopping beside a row of luscious, red velvet seats that were as encrusted in gold as the ceilings. They filed into the row.

In front of the first row was a golden railing, blocking guests from the drop to the orchestra pit below. Slightly above that was the stage, just low enough so that the front row had the optimal view, and not so high that it couldn't be seen.

"Polished chrome!" Charlie said in awe as he sunk in the seat.

"It feels like clouds!" Harriet sighed.

Mittie beamed at the stage. "I can't wait for it to start!"

"You won't have to wait long," Bentam replied from his end seat as the audience filed into their respective seating. The gas lights dimmed.

Behind herself, Tracey felt someone tap her shoulder. She quickly turned, startled. "I'm sorry, ma'am, didn't mean to disturb you," an older woman whispered, her mouth curled into a small smile. "But I would just like to compliment you on your family!"

"My...family?" Tracey echoed.

"Oh, yes! Your two children and husband, and oh! Look at her hair, how lovely," she said, admiring Mittie's hairstyle. "Is she a family friend of yours?"

"Ah...," poor Tracey sounded, uncertain of what to say.

"Yes, she is," Bentam said, turning around as well. "She's a very good friend of ours and we wanted to treat her to a performance of Jon Starr."

"Marvelous!" the woman gasped. "You have very good friends," she said with a friendly tap on Mittie's shoulder.

"Oh...thank you kindly!" Mittie haltingly said.

"Enjoy the show," she replied, settling back in her seat.

Tracey turned back to look at Mittie and down the row to Charlie, Harriet, and Bentam. "So we're a family now?" she whispered as the orchestra began to tune their instruments.

Harriet looked enthusiastically between the two of them. "Are we really?" she asked.

"If it helps our narrative," Bentam evenly said, his gaze fixed on the empty stage. "The guise of being a family makes us less suspicious, don't you think Ms. Higgenbottom?"

Tracey grit her teeth at the sharp tone of his saying her name, but said nothing. "Look, they're startin'!" Mittie said, excitedly tapping Tracey's arm.

The tuning of the instruments fell silent, and a quiet buzz of anticipation filled the room. Even Tracey could feel the tinge of excitement as the lights dimmed even more. The curtains raised.

There, in the center of the stage, with the spotlight shining upon him, was Jon Starr. He wore the same attire that Tracey had seen him wear when they last met. He stood at the center of the stage, his eyes fixed to a point past the audience. Slowly, silently, the music began. "Is the summer's eve the time of utmost joy?" he quavered. "For I..." Jon paused and leveled his eyes to the crowd. "I find it as the time of utmost sorrow. Of whence one dizzily stumbles upon lines... of grief and betrayal, joy in the dawn yet...shunned by friends and called shameful by the day's end. By the summer's heat and the sweat of the sun, once words were given it could not be undone. Never was forgotten, never forgiven. Yet in the summer's eve—ah— cries of remorse then."