❖❖❖
The morning sun shone through the open windows and brightened the parlour room with glimmering golden beams. Flowers embellished the walls and similar designs scattered along the chairs stationed around the room. The table remained empty save for a white embroidered tablecloth and a couple of marigolds that sat comfortably in a vase. On the wall hung a beautifully carved wooden clock with hands frozen in time. Beneath lay the fireplace, left barren of any heat.
Reddish-brown strands of hair lay scattered carelessly on a plump beige cushion. The light of dawn brought out the faded freckles that ran along the bridge of her nose and raced across her cheeks. Soot stained her waistcoat and breeches. The legs were propped to the side of where she lay on a chair. One arm limply hung off the side while the other dangled above the backrest. She slouched on the chair in her sleep. Snuggling into the cushions. An old leather book remained abandoned on the floor.
Laura stirred from her rest. Back aching from its twisted position. She remembered reading her father's copy of 'Patrick Bestiary: A Collection of Monsters and Creatures'. His notes were scribbled on most pages. Ink blotches dribbled onto others. The leather binding was scratched by constant use and age. Laura fumbled to find the book, her hand connecting with it on the floor.
Noticing movement in the corner of her eye, she dropped the bestiary and spun towards the unknown figure. The book tumbled onto the floor. Landing with a loud thud.
Her eyes focused on the supposed intruder. An easel and canvas covered their face from view. Wings spread out on either side. Feathers gleamed a glossy green and blue with the longer wing feathers being coloured a dark mauve. A hand holding a palette kept popping in and out of sight before finally, the painter's head popped out instead.
"How was your nap?" Cecília asked as she fixed the shawl that loosely hung from her shoulders. Her wrinkles were more prominent on her brow. The edges of her lips turned up in mirth. She was trying not to laugh, likely having seen Laura's earlier distress.
Calming herself, Laura tried to crack the bones in her back. Stretching her body to rid herself of the cramps that plagued it. To Cecília's comment, she rolled her eyes and replied jovially, "I found it quite fulfilling."
Cecília chuckled as she could no longer hide her amusement. Stepping around her easel, her face began to display a more serious tone. Her temple scrunched in apparent frustration as she brought her index finger and thumb up to Laura's temple. With a gentle thump, the sylph flicked her.
"What's that for?!" Laura cried out. Rubbing her forehead in mock pain.
"You came home late last night, covered in soot and fell asleep in the parlour room. Mind you, without even letting me know you were alive and well. Did you even remember your little friend?" Cecília glared pointedly at Laura before moving back to the easel to finish her work. The shawl slipped from her back as her shimmering feathers ruffled. The long wings stretch out in freedom.
"Friend?" Laura asked and tried to recall what she meant. Then it clicked. "Oh, the salamander. Is it okay?"
"Of course it is," Cecília assured. "I have relocated it to your room. In the morrow, I will send word to the sanctuary in Rosmertía. It will likely take a week for them to arrive. Until then we will care for the salamander."
"Thank you, Cecília."
"You're welcome. Now come along. Your complexion pales. You are in need of some fresh air and sunlight," the sylph reasoned. Retrieving the fallen shawl and returning it to cover her shoulders.
"I am in no need of sunlight. I'm always pale."
"You take after George with your stubbornness," Cecília wistfully said before huffing in annoyance. "Now come along. I wish to paint outside amongst the greenery."
Having attended to their morning routines of breakfast and readying themselves for the day ahead, the two women moved outside. Cecília repositioned her easel and stool before she got herself ready to paint. Her sharp talons gripped the stool below as her body leaned close to the canvas. Her bird-like legs bent at the heel as she steadied herself atop her perch. The jewellery around her ankles glistened in the glow of the morning sun and the constant flick of her wings threatened the strenuous position of her shawl.
Dipping a brush into the paint from her palette, she began to amass a new image that she wanted to create. One of their little garden.
The garden was surrounded by an aged wooden fence blanketed in vines and shrubbery. The flower beds were flooded by pink tulips, pearl white hyacinths and deep purple lavenders. They were her father's favourites.
Laura lounged on a rug that Mrs Hanks had laid out. An older woman who had served the Winters family since their arrival in Idrimis. Mrs Hanks was currently focused on her work in the garden. Her lined hands meticulously shaped and groomed the plant life. Snipping away withered stems and chewed leaves. Laura drew her focus to the bestiary. Flicking through pages of notes in search of what the Caelum had seen in the fire. The mysterious silhouette. If it had been a creature it would likely be in this book somewhere.
A thought struck Laura. Her curiosity led her to ask, "What had you been painting before I awoke?"
From behind the canvas, Cecília responded, "A simple image of the dawn through the window. Don't worry, I wasn't painting you drooling."
"I don't drool."
"No, dear. Of course not," Cecília teased. A muffled chuckle came from Mrs Hanks leading to Cecília giving the old woman a sly toothy grin. The feathers that surrounded her face ever so slightly rose at the movement.
Laura rolled her eyes.
"All of you are against me."
A loud knocking came from the front of the house preceded by silence. They gazed at each other confused as if to ask who could that be?
Laura moved to get up from the ground however, Mrs Hanks stopped her.
"Worry not Miss Winters, I shall get the door."
The older woman placed down her gardening equipment and hobbled into the house.
Going back to her previous task, Laura dragged her eyes back to the leather book in hand. She was struggling to find any creature within that connected to what the Caelum had witnessed in the fire. A silhouette of unknown origins. She needed to know what it was.
Curious, the sylph asked Laura why she was reading from her father's old bestiary. The girl explained what had happened the day before.
Cecília commented, "He was likely in a delusional state of being. One that was possibly incited by the smoke and fire. Unable to comprehend the reality of his surroundings."
"But he saw the fire salamander," Laura reasoned.
"That doesn't mean he was in the right state of mind. No matter the severity of the situation, at times the mind will attempt all manner of self-preservation. In some cases, one will even sacrifice those attempting to save them. Not that I am implying he sacrificed someone but rather that his mind had created a fictional threat to incite a response to flee the area."
Laura admitted, "I see where you're coming from but I still must seek a definitive answer. There was most definitely something amiss about that fire. It was abnormal to be caused by a lone fire salamander."
Cecília nodded. The brush renewed its path along the canvas as she resumed painting.
"You wouldn't happen to have any insight into what might have caused this?" Laura inquired. Snapping the sylph's attention to her.
"There are a number of possible suspects," she remarked. Smearing pink paint onto her brush, she added the finishing touches to the tulips. "Chimaera is the worst-case scenario but it is highly unlikely to have been present in the city. A boggart is a possible culprit, nasty little things and common enough too."
Cleansing her brush. She began to add clouds to her creation. She continued, "If we are focusing on something that could cause flames, mayhaps even a species of drakon could have achieved such a feat."
Laura shook her head stating, "I don't think so. What the Caelum saw had a humanoid shape."
"Before you said he saw a silhouette," Cecília argued. "You also said he couldn't tell if there was even someone who passed by. It is unwise to rule out a lead simply because you don't think so. Begin with the impossible suspects and narrow it down from there."
Before their conversation could go any further, Laura noticed Mrs Hanks returning with a nervous expression.
The older woman wearily approached the two ladies.
"Lady Flores," she hesitated. Voice uncertain as she continued, "I don't mean to alarm you but there are two bobbies waitin' outside the front door. I says to them that they must wait for the Missis but they seemed very adamant on wantin' to come in."
"Are they still outside?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Thank you, Mrs Hanks. Please go and continue with your previous work. I shall attend to this myself."
Stepping down from the stool, her ankle bracelets cast an attractive shine to her every stride. Cecília fixed her dress before signalling for Laura to follow her as she strode into the house. The girl left the book on the rug, trailing after the sylph.
When they were out of sight. Cecília stopped abruptly. Laura halted her approach to prevent herself from bumping into the woman's wings.
Chestnut-coloured eyes cut to her. The sylph asked, "Why are there two bobbies outside our home?"
"I'm just as confused as you."
It was the truth. There were too many reasons and too little information as to why two officers of the law would decide to approach this house, on this street, at this time of day. A possible explanation might be her having entered the Artemisia Mansion but she was sure she hadn't been seen. Besides they wouldn't have known who she was. Laura was somewhat recognisable to those who knew her father but on her own, she was practically invisible. The arrival of bobbies is troubling. The cause of their appearance was entirely unknown to Laura, and just like the mystery of the silhouette, her ignorance of the matter bothered her.
Taking Laura at her word, Cecília said for her to go back to the garden as the sylph approached the door and opened it. The girl decided otherwise as she hid somewhat out of sight within a corridor connected to the entrance hallway. Seeing just the sylph's wings and the light from outside that struck through the open doorway.
"Who might you be?" A high-pitched nasally voice asked. The bobby.
"Cecília Flores. The owner of this house," she replied.
"What's your relation to Laura Winters, you her exotic pet or something?"
The woman inhaled sharply. Laura could imagine Cecília's pupils the size of pins as they stabbed the rude officer. The feathers of her wings trembled at the bobby's notion.
Her accent coursed through her words like a torrential downpour that washed away any possibility of kindness. She seethed, "It would appear my person is not known to you. As such, if you wish to keep whatever dignity remains, I suggest you mind your manners."
A new person joined the conversation. "Wait, you're the Widow of Winters. Cecília the Vampyre Slayer."
The second bobby.
"I go by my maiden name and have retired from that profession."
"They're all walking corpses anyway. What's left for one to hunt, bones?" The first bobby chuckled.
At the bobby's words, Laura shivered and stumbled back. Accidentally bumping into a nearby table. Thankfully her presence went unnoticed by Cecilia and the two bobbies. She sighed in relief and listened back into the conversation.
"Let's not talk about a topic you clearly know nothing of," Cecília said to the first bobby before turning to the second. "You wanted to meet with Laura Winters. As she is not present and as her parental guardian, I can pass the message to her."
The second bobby explained, "We've come to inform her that a good friend of Mr Winters has passed away. He left in his will to deliver this letter to the home of the Winters family."
"What was the name of this friend?" Cecília asked as she warily took the letter from the officer.
This time it was the first bobby who answered.
"Was a member of the fire brigade. Caelus Bastion Jones."
A pause. Laura watched as Cecília subtly moved a hand to the inside doorknob and clamped her fingers around it. Her hand shaking under the strain. The sylph had recognised the name but from what she could recall, Laura never said who the Caelum was.
"How did he pass?" the sylph inquired.
The second bobby replied, "It's not in our jurisdiction to say."
Cecília nodded.
"I will pass on your message," she calmly said. "I only ask that the next time you visit, you don't bring the git."
Saying farewell to the two officers, Cecília stared at the bobbies as they vacated the premises before she proceeded to unabashedly slam the door. The house shook at the commotion. She sighed. Her feathers ruffled. Out of shock, anger, or perhaps grief. Laura was unsure.
"I'm sorry."
The words spewed from Laura's mouth alerting Cecília to her presence. The girl barely registered she had spoken at all.
"You have nothing to be sorry for, Laura. Let's go back to the garden."
A quiet enveloped them as Cecília wandered past and towards their little garden.
"You recognised the Caelum," Laura trembled. Voice shaking, she persisted, "He knew my father. Is his death connected to Father's murder?"
Laura was faced by Cecilia's back. It was difficult to know what emotions flickered through the sylph. Even her wings remained unreadable.
"It would be best if we went back to the garden."
The day moved on. Morning to evening. Evening to night. Cecília remained quiet and Laura was lost in her thoughts. She now sat at the desk in her bedroom.
Too many threads tangled together forming a knot that Laura couldn't unravel. No matter how hard she tugged her brain, she couldn't find answers. A Caelum who knew her father, who had helped her capture the arson, was now dead. He had seemed reluctant to speak to her initially. Could this possibly be linked in some way to the silhouette? Whatever he had seen, could it have killed him? Was it because he had helped her?
Laura didn't even know how Caelus Bastion had passed. Maybe this was all a coincidence. Him knowing her father. Him seeing the silhouette. Him passing a day after speaking to her. She was overthinking again. Picking up breadcrumbs from the forest floor.
Lounging into her chair, she gazed around the bedroom. Shadows danced in the glow of the magic-powered lights that ran throughout the house. They sparkled in embers of light that were expelled in small quantities from brass cylinders around the room. Powered entirely by magic. The light reflected on a metal box situated on a wooden dresser.
A knock sounded from downstairs. The noise resounding through the house. Had the officers returned?
Making her way down to the front door, Laura saw that she was the only one to have heard the knocking. Likely everyone else was sleeping or preoccupied in their rooms. She nearly jumped as another knock was heard from the front door.
Cautiously her fingers gripped around the handle. The slight jingle of the knob sounded almost eerie in the dead silence of the night. With a huff, Laura opened the door. On the other side, she was met with a strange sight. A towering man dressed in a rather dapper suit stood at the steps of the entrance and was illuminated by the light of the two moons that gazed down at them.
Unsure of how to greet the stranger, Laura spoke awkwardly, "Umm hello?"
"Apologies, I am here to give a message to Madam Winters," the stranger said. Their face was slender and somewhat gaunt. Watery eyes looked down at Laura and gave an unsettling glow, mirroring the twin moons. From his attire and manner of speech, one could assume him to be a servant of a noble.
"What do you need?" Laura asked.
"My master, the kind and benevolent Lady Artemisia wishes to employ the services of the acclaimed consulting detective. Further details are written within this letter along with this package my master wished to gift you."
The envelope and paper-wrapped package were placed into Laura's hands. The brown package was tightly woven by a thick string that ended in a bow at the top. Placed alongside the bow was the envelope sealed by a large red blob of wax.
"Good night, Madam." The messenger said, giving a slight bow before leaving the residence.
Closing the door behind her, Laura took the package and letter up to her room and placed them on her desk alongside the letter delivered by the bobbies earlier. This day had gotten more bizarre. Not only had someone died but now the person whose house Laura had technically broken into had sent her a letter with a package.
Two letters were laid before her. Both of equal significance. One, a letter from a dead man. A man who knew her father and whose death smothered her heart with dread. The other was a letter from a noblewoman whose house had burned down and the culprit remained on the loose. Said culprit nestled snugly in a containment box found on top of Laura's dresser.
She did not dare to read both letters. Bad news more than thrice in a day would bode poorly. Laura will choose to open merely one. Letting her fingers slip around the envelope. Red wax sealed its contents from sight. Her name was eloquently written in black ink across the envelope's back. Picking up the chosen letter, she sliced it open and began to read.
❖❖❖
Hope you liked the chapter. Thanks for reading and appreciate any feedback.
Background Facts: Bobby (plural: bobbies) is a British slang term for a police officer. It originates from the mid-19th century and derived from Sir Robert Peel (aka the guy who helped establish the London Metropolitan Police Force).