The Lamplighter (Lamplighter Saga Book 0) Page 4
After the brief panic of the giant demon’s death, the swarm of demons had resumed their pursuit of Pearl, surging through the trees and rushing up the hill. The man didn’t move to stop them as they drew closer, and his grip on Pearl’s shoulder trapped her next to him. A feline-shaped demon bolted to the front of the swarm and leapt high into the air from halfway up the hill. Pearl struggled to escape as the demon descended towards them, a dark blemish growing on the moon, claws the size of sickles pointed at them.
The man’s rifle, the only weapon capable of killing the demon before it reached them, laid broken and useless on the ground. Pearl considered throwing her sword, but that would leave her defenseless and she lacked any confidence in making a lethal throw. The man remained statuesque, prepared to die steps from the safety of his house. Then, a stream of light, gold with a red core and wider than the rifle’s beam, shot out from the miniature sun on the roof and disintegrated the feline demon on contact. Multiple rays fired out as demons got too close to the house, none coming closer than twenty strides away.
Pearl flinched at the sizzling-cracking sound the demons made when they burst from the beam, and each time she did, the man would laugh. The demons didn’t relent in their impossible approach, and soon, both Pearl and the man numbed to the spectacle. With his grip on her shoulder, the man spun her to face the house and pointed inside. “Wait inside while I gather your horse. Thought I saw the beast run round back.”
He kept close to the house as he disappeared around the corner. Pearl didn’t hesitate to get inside, stepping into a small parlor so warm and comfortable, Pearl forgot she didn’t live here. Despite the exterior’s similarities to the houses of New Bethlehem, the interior looked like no building Pearl had ever seen. Polished wood planks floored the room, stretched down the hallway to her left, composed the staircase to the second floor, and continued into the room to her right through a wide opening. A forest green, circular rug laid in the middle of the floor, the sole furnishing in the room.
She searched for the source of the abundance of light she had seen from the outside, but saw no candles or fires burning. Instead, she noticed glass tubes glowing with golden light running along the ceiling, down the hallway and through the wall into the room off to her right. The glass tubes in the parlor traced the edges of the ceiling, providing the whole room with illumination. All of the glowing tubes on this floor connected to a thicker tube running up to the second floor and down the center of a metal, spiral staircase in the back corner of the room. What caused the tubes to glow, Pearl couldn’t even guess. Like the rest of the house, it seemed magical.
The door clicked shut behind, followed by another click as cold metal pressed against the back of her head. “Don’t move, girl. You may not be who I thought you were, but doesn’t mean I won’t put you down all the same. Who are you and why are you here? Unless another colony sprung up over night, you’re from New Bethlehem, right?”
“It’s not there anymore,” Pearl blurted out. “When I left, it was on fire and overrun with demons. I’m only alive because Father Alexander sent me. I’m supposed to give you this.”
She reached for her pocket, but the man stopped her. “Ah ah ah. Stop. No sudden movements. Slowly.” She nodded and slid her hand into her pocket. A groan of disappointment escaped her when she felt a disk instead of an orb. The orb’s gold plating hadn’t protected it from her fall off the horse. Tiny crystals and metal strings poked out of the broken device. The man snatched the orb out of her hand and studied the damage as he lowered his pistol to his side. “Quite a beating this took, but no doubt it came from Alexander. What did you say your name was?”
“Pearl Chaucer.” The man stopped fiddling with the orb for a second, then resumed turning it over and over again.
“So you’re George’s girl. What happened to him?” When Pearl described her father’s final battle, the man chuckled. “Just like George. Great man, but not much of a fighter. Relied on magic a bit too much, but that’s what happens when you become an exorcist and a warder.” The frown on Pearl’s face stoned his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to speak poorly of a dead man. Merely reminiscing. And your mother?”
“She died giving birth to my brother when I was young. He didn’t survive either,” Pearl choked back her sobs, her loneliness overwhelming her. “Please. Just tell you’re Theseus. Tell me I’ve made it to Lightholme.”
“I am, and you have. Theseus Aeker. Welcome to Lightholme, my home.” They shook hands, then stood in silence, both unsure of what to do next. Theseus studied her, his eyes jumping around her face. “Sorry about before. You looked like someone else in the dark. Same brown hair and everything…you said your mother was dead?”
“Yes.” Pearl bowed her head and mumbled a brief prayer for her mother and brother, a daily practice she had learned from her father. Theseus scoffed in annoyance, but said nothing. “Did you know her?”
“No,” he spat in disgust, then saw Pearl’s hurt confusion. “Apologies. It’s a tad late and looking at this flat orb, I know I’ll be up for a few more hours repairing it. Not to mention everything your arrival has brought. My thoughts are scattered, and need time to come to gather, so we’ll discuss matters in the morning. No doubt your journey was tiring. Even on the fastest horse, the trip is a long three hours.”
A yawn escaped Pearl’s mouth at the word ‘tiring.” Without anything to fight or run from, the energy in her body crashed. Theseus waved Pearl to the stairs and led her to the second floor. He walked her past the shut doors at the top of the stairs and on the left side of the corridor, to the door standing ajar at the end. Someone had prepared the simple room for an anticipated occupant, polishing the wood of the dresser and making the bed with clean linens. The lone window in the room looked out onto the clearing around the house and the forest threatening to swallow them whole. Moonlight alone illuminated the room, until a globe of light on the ceiling came to life when Theseus touched a small white button-like switch on the wall next to the door.
“Take anything you want from the dresser. Most it won’t fit. We’ll gather what does from the other room in the morning. Did you bring anything with you?”
“I did, but something ripped them off the horse.” More things the demons had taken from her. “All I have now is my sword, this lantern, and these clothes.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Theseus assured her. “It hurts, losing that which we care about. One can only take so much…If you need something in the middle of the night, my room is at the end there. Though, I doubt I’ll be in there anytime soon. If that’s the case, you saw those stairs going down in the corner downstairs? Just shout for me from the top. Here, let me take that lantern. It will be hard to sleep with the light. Do you need anything?”
Pearl looked around the room given to her. Her intrusion discomforted her, and the events of the day tearing at her soul. She wanted to curl into a ball on the bed and cry her eyes raw. But she told Theseus, “I think I just want to sleep.”
Theseus waited for more, but when she said nothing, he bowed his head, said his goodnights, and closed the door behind himself as he left. She listened to his footsteps descending the stairs, and once he left ear-shot, she hit the button-switch as Theseus had done. In the dark, she changed into the clothes she pulled from the dresser, none fitting proper, all tailored for a large man. She laid down in the bed, but sleep would not come. The immensity of the day’s event crushed her spirit and she wept into the pillows so Theseus couldn’t hear.
When Pearl was younger, and had trouble sleeping, her mother would sing to her. It was the only thing Pearl really remembered of her mother, time having eroded every other memory away. Once her mother passed, Pearl’s father would sing the lullaby to her when she needed to hear it. But now she had no one, save herself, to comfort her. So, through her softer sobs, Pearl sang herself asleep.
Good night, sleep tight.
Until the morning’s light.
Rest on your head on the pillow.
Your warm, comfy pillow.
***
Pearl awoke in a bright room, confused when she rolled onto her back and stared at the dark globe on the ceiling. It dawned on her that the light came through the window and, judging by the sun’s position, she had slept to late morning. The pants she wore kept falling, forcing her to catch them every time she let go. The shirt dropped to her knees like a white dress. While in the dark, the size of her new clothes hadn’t concerned her, but in the light of day, they embarrassed her. Gutting the dresser proved less than useful. Every shirt and undergarment she changed into hung loose on her, but she managed to find a pair of pants that stayed at her waist, so she considered it an improvement.
“Theseus,” she called as she left her room. The wooden floor warmed her bare feet as she walked towards his door. An indistinguishable call from Theseus echoed out of the large opening in the foyer below and she followed it into the largest kitchen Pearl had ever seen. Waist high cabinets on the ground lined the walls in front of her and to her right, forming an “L” shape in the corner. Another row of cabinets, suspended above the rest, paralleled them, with a break among them on the far wall for a window looking out the side of the house. An island of counter space filled the center of the room, with two water spigots facing in opposite directions above two metal tubs embedded into the island, though Pearl didn’t see any pumps to draw water. Two sets of double doors composed most of the wall to her immediate left, while a large window made from a single sheet of glass comprised the leftmost wall. The light from this wall flooded the room, washing away any trace of shade. Theseus sat at the table in front of the window-wall, his back to her. Their carpenter had used a dark wood for the table, the six chairs surrounding it, and every other wooden structure in the kitchen. Theseus heard her approach and turned towards her, a fresh green apple with a single bite taken out of it in his hand.
“Morning.” Theseus waved his apple at the two double doors. “Food’s in there, if you’re hungry.”
The rumble of Pearl’s stomach answered him and she turned away with an embarrassed smile. A burst of cold air surprised her when she opened the leftmost set of doors. The cupboard remained chilled within and Pearl shivered as she eyed all of the food inside, shelves of cheese, milk, fruits, meats, and breads. She searched, but couldn’t find the ice cooling it all. “How is it so cold?”
Theseus didn’t leave his chair and waved his apple at the doors. “On the inside of the door frame. Nordic runes carved into the wood cool the air. Don’t touch ‘em or you’ll freeze your damn fingers off. And just grab something already. There’s something we need to discuss.”
Apples sat in a wooden bowl on a shelf at eye-level and she took a greedy bite of a green one, its tartness puckering her mouth. She snagged a small block of white cheese on her way out, nudged the doors shut with her foot and took a seat across from Theseus. The sun shining through the window warmed her back like a blanket. The gold orb, once again an orb, albeit dented and cracked in places, rested on the table between them. With a bite of his apple, Theseus tapped the orb and it hummed to life. Pearl opened her mouth to ask a question, but Theseus silenced her with a finger to his lips.
After a few seconds of humming, the top plates of the orb parted, revealing several chipped crystals embedded within. Again, Theseus had to silence Pearl. The crystals glowed and an image of a miniature Father Alexander materialized above the orb. Theseus glared at Pearl, and she kept her questions screaming within her. She reached out and, when Theseus did nothing to stop her, poked the tiny Father Alexander, her finger going right through him. And then it spoke.
“Greetings, Theseus. Greetings, Pearl.” Pearl gasped, but forgot to close her mouth afterwards, and stared at the spectre of Father Alexander like a simpleton. “If you’re listen-chchzzzzzz-periment a failure. We’ve been unable to contact London, so relay-bzzzzz”
“What’s happening?” Pearl couldn’t help but ask. Theseus sighed in resignation.
“I fixed it as best I could, but some of the damage was irreversible,” he explained. “The crackling we’re hearing is because the orb can’t decipher the broken parts of the crystals. The message is clearer further along, but we won’t be able to hear any of it if you keep asking questions.”
They hadn’t missed anything important, as the image of Father Alexander buzzed, hissed, and crackled his way through a recount of the events leading up to Pearl’s awakening in the chambers beneath the church and her receiving the orb. Pearl shrunk in her seat at the mention of the deaths of Mrs. Graham and Pearl’s Lamplighter peers in the forest, even more so when Father Alexander reported how the town laid blame on Pearl. But Theseus said nothing and didn’t even glance at her.
“With my death, you’re in command of the Brotherhood’s operations in the new world and I charge you with two final tasks. First, if she is willing, Pearl is to be trained and made a member of the Brotherhood. You are the only two people equipped to undertake the second task: traveling to the Black Hill to destroy the Black Heart within. A heavy burden, I know, and a contingency reserved for the worst situations, but it is a threat to the whole of existence and must be eradicated. Understand, were you a lesser man, I would not leave such a task in your hands. You are as fine a Brother as any man or woman I’ve had the honor of working and fighting beside.”
Father Alexander stopped and lowered his head. His shoulders shook once, but then he picked his head up and continued. “There is one more point I need to mention, which I passed over earlier for the sake of the narrative of past events. Based on-cahzzzurrr-“
“This is the last break,” Theseus informed Pearl. “Though it seems to have corrupted a large portion of information.”
“—raises some alarming possible explanations. One, they are not truly immune to the power of Chaos. Two, some other party has them under their sway. Or three…” Dread burdened his words. “Our weapons have discovered themselves. Gods know what would happen if it turned on London.” Father Alexander fell silent again and Pearl could make out a tear smaller than an ant falling down the elder priest’s tiny visage. “I know you abandoned your faith long ago, with the losses you have endured, but may any god that favors you bless you and protect you. I’ve always been proud of you. You and Gen may not have been my flesh and blood, but I took as much pride in you as any father would his sons. Good bye, Theseus Aeker. I…Godspeed.”
Theseus tried to turn away and hide them, but Pearl saw the few tears rolling down his face. He wiped them away with a rough brush of his hand, then glared at the small image of Father Alexander with glistening eyes. “Stupid, old man.”
Chapter 4
Layers of dust coated the room between Theseus’s and Pearl’s, and as Theseus opened the door, the freshest layer rolled away from them like smoke in a breeze. Four bunkbeds stood in wait, their sheets flat and long undisturbed.
“Who slept in this room?” Pearl followed Theseus inside, and looked back at the footprints they left behind. In front of each bunk sat a footlocker, all four coated in dust. Theseus knelt in front of the closest footlocker on the left, the cleanest one by the look of it, though it still had gone untouched for years.
“No one.” Theseus threw open the footlocker and dug through the piles of clothes within. “The only guests Lightholme has had prior to you, with the exception of Father Alexander and Brother Gen, were seven elders of the Brotherhood and a battalion of the Brotherhood’s warriors, all of whom arrived before this level was complete. Here, try these on.”
Pearl took the pile of clothes Theseus handed her to her room to change into them. Odd enough, they fit as if tailored for her, from the shoes to the jacket. When Pearl asked about the coincidence, Theseus explained, “The room is stocked for any member, male and female, of any size. Not too strange to find clothes that fit well. Now, head to the foyer. I’ll join you shortly to give you a tour.”
The hallway opposite the kitchen remained the only part of the first floor unknown to Pearl,
so they started there. A narrow hallway, they walked single file with Pearl leading towards a dark brown door at the end. A door partway down the hall led to a small privy, with a metal sink, toilet, and tub inside. The door at the end of the hall refused to budge until Pearl planted her back foot down and pushed with all of her weight.
Warm air escaped through the opened door. The room beyond stretched from the front of the house to the back, much like the kitchen. Shelves covered the walls, each packed with, and some bending under the weight of, more books than Pearl ever thought existed, in a variety of color and size. Theseus stepped in front of her and gestured to the entirety of the room with a sweep of his arms. “Welcome to the study. On these shelves are the records of the Brotherhood’s history as well as some of the greatest pieces literature the world has ever seen. Though none of these are the originals. Those the Brotherhood safeguards in London.”
“How many books are in here?” A small fire burned in the corner fireplace, though most of the room’s light came from the ceiling high windows on the far wall. The green carpeted floor cushioned Pearl’s feet like soft grass.
“I’m not sure. When I first built the study, I didn’t have enough books to fill one set of shelves. During my travels, I acquired more and more books, and sent them here. Never thought to count them though.” Theseus leaned against the ornate, wooden desk in front of the windows and stared at one of the bookshelves, his eyes looking through and beyond it. “There was a time when I didn’t think I would return here.”
“Why is that?” Theseus didn’t hear Pearl’s question. He had lost himself in a memory, a smile sneaking onto his face. He returned to the here and now, and the smile disappeared.
“I’m sorry. My past seems to be haunting me.” He took a moment to register his surroundings. He tapped his hands on the desk. “I made this. The desk and the chair.”
The chair looked more like a throne, larger than the leather chairs in front of the fireplace and as decorated as the desk, both constructed from the same dark wood as the kitchen. Pearl ran her fingers over the polished surface. Though impressive, the desk and chair failed to hold Pearl’s interest. “It’s…very nice. Didn’t you also make the rifle that broke last night?”