[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
dragon buried deep in my psyche, but luckily, portal travel didn t discommode me much) and returned
to the others, Pavel was feeling much more like himself and announced that the cars were waiting.
Baltic picked up Holland. Brom, you may open the car door for me. Holland will travel with
Pavel, while you will stay with your mother and me.
The rest of us shuffled out of the portalling office after them, Maura still protesting that she couldn t
be in Latvia; it just wasn t possible, and why couldn t we understand that?
She complained the entire way through town, and into the outskirts.
Seriously, there has to be a way to get these handcuffs off, she said, still going at it when Baltic
pointed to a dirt driveway. I turned up it, trying to think of some way to calm down Maura when
Savian took care of the matter for me.
You re making my head hurt with your endless bitching, Savian said, rubbing his face.
I m not bitching; I m complaining about this unnecessary abduction. And tough toenails! was her
reply.
He cast her a glance that had her opening her eyes wide. It hurts so bad, I may vomit. On you.
Savvy?
Silence reigned in the car for a whole thirty seconds before Brom, his nose pressed to the window,
asked, Is that my lab? It looks kind of crumbly.
The drive was long and straight, the rich chocolate earth covered in golden leaves from the aspens
that lined the drive, their branches arching over us in a lovely way that had me thinking warm thoughts
about Pavel s house-finding abilities.
To the right, a shimmer of water could be seen through the trees, as well as a ruined red stone wall
with still-intact Gothic windows.
Oh, I m sure that s not it. That s not much more than a shell of a building. Surely Pavel would
have found us something with a basement, or a completed outbuilding. I glanced at Baltic, beside me.
Wouldn t he?
He shrugged. He showed me the information about the house. It is an eighteenth-century mansion
with five standing outbuildings, on twenty-seven acres. It has power and water. That is all I know
about it. It was up to you to approve it or not, but he did not have time to show you the pictures.
An eighteenth-century mansion, I said, a little thrill of excitement making me shiver. It sounds
wonderful.
It sounds full of mice, Maura said in a subdued voice.
Pessimist, Savian told her.
Realist, thank you. Emile has an eighteenth-century house in the north of France that is mouse
central. I grew up there. She shuddered.
Another ruin, Brom said, pointing to the other side of the drive.
That looks like it could have been a barn or something, I commented as the trees grew denser
around us, the track making a sweeping curve to the northeast. Oh, I think I see the house through the
trees! It looks big. Yes, that must be it. How excit The words dried up on my lips as we rounded a
dense clump of trees that lurked at the far end of a large pond, revealing the three-story mansion in all
its glory.
If you could use that word. Which I wasn t about to.
Sins of the saints, I swore, letting the car roll to a stop a few yards away from the closest end of
the house.
Baltic squinted at the house for a moment before opening the car door. It needs some work.
Needs some work? My mouth hung open as I stared at the looming monstrosity before me. Oh, it
was a mansion all right, and it looked as though it had seen every single moment of time that had
passed since it was built three hundred years before.
Told you it has mice, Maura said with grim satisfaction as Savian, wordless at the sight of the
house, slid out of the backseat, pulling her after him. Probably rats, too. And given the state of the
house, I wouldn t be surprised to see badgers, foxes, and bears inhabiting it, as well.
Cool, Brom said as he stared wide-eyed at it. It looks haunted. What s behind it? That looks
like a building back there. I m going to go see.
I closed my eyes and rested my forehead on the steering wheel for a moment, wondering if it was
possible to gather everyone back up to whisk them away to England and civilization.
Mate? Baltic stood with my door open, his hand outstretched for mine.
I looked up at him, then over to the house. I have no idea what the original color of the paint was,
but now it was basically the color of putty. Mildewed putty on which a dog had thrown up. The
ground-floor paned windows had tall, elegant dimensions that you see in homes of its age; the second
floor bore gabled windows of a lesser stature, but topped with ornate hemispheres. The upper floor
had more gabled windows, but without the prettiness, obviously belonging to the servants quarters.
The roof, dotted with chimneys of varying colors, was solid green with moss, as were the gables.
Unkempt, scraggly grass the color of straw surrounded the house, along with some depressed-looking
bare trees that drooped claustrophobically over the far end of the house, no doubt making the rooms at
that end of the house extremely dark.
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]