The Haunting of Pitmon House (18 page)

Where?
Robert asked.
Where did he store them?

Marvin let him keep them in the attic,
Agnes replied.
But it was only
temporary. He was allowed to keep them there only until he could sell them off.

Do you know where in the attic?
Robert asked.

How would I know that?
Agnes replied.
I never go up there. It’s…

Her tongue slowly escaped her frozen lips, and her eyes
widened as she began to asphyxiate once again. As her hands came up to her
throat, Eliza dropped from the River, not waiting for the final moments to
replay.

“The attic,” Eliza said. “That’s where we have to go. Some of
the devices might still be there.”

“We’ll have to figure out how to get up there,” Granger
replied. “I don’t think it’s a smart idea to explore to find the way up.”

“I don’t suppose Nick mentioned anything about an attic in
his journals?” Eliza asked.

“No,” Granger replied. “He didn’t document anything above the
landing.”

“One of the papers we copied at the lawyers had a rough
layout of the place,” Robert said. “It was part of a title transfer.”

“Why don’t we check that out next,” Granger offered, “and see
if it indicates a way up into the attic.”

“Alright,” Eliza replied, frustrated that they couldn’t spend
the rest of the evening pursuing the lead inside the house, but knowing Granger
was right.

They carefully left Agnes’ room and descended to the ground
floor, Eliza on high alert for any appearance from Tena or Dominic. Once they
cleared the front door and began walking through the yard, the cool night air
lifted the tension she always felt while inside the house, and she began to
feel optimistic.

“What a relief,” Robert said, as they opened the iron gates.
“The pressure was becoming unbearable.”

“If we’re going to stay in there longer,” Granger said,
“pursuing something higher up in the house, we may face even greater pressure.
We’re going to have to mitigate that.”

“I wish I could help,” Eliza replied as they walked to the
car. “I don’t feel it at all; I don’t know what you’re going through.”

“You know when you have a sinus cold?” Robert said. “It’s
like that, but all around your head, not just in your nose.”

“That sounds unpleasant,” Eliza replied. “And it gets worse
in certain places?”

“I don’t feel it at all until we step inside,” Robert said.
“And it’s worse on the far side of the house, the landing side. Same for you,
Dad?”

“Same for me,” Granger replied. “If I didn’t know better, I’d
say it was a legend shelf, but that can’t be it.”

“We wouldn’t be able to get in at all if it were that,”
Robert replied as they got into the car and Granger began the drive back to
their place.

“A legend shelf?” Eliza asked.

“It forms a barrier,” Granger said. “Usually set up and
maintained by someone who’s gifted.”

“If it’s a legend shelf, something’s very wrong with it,”
Robert said. “We shouldn’t be able to get anywhere near it.”

“Maybe that’s it,” Granger said. “A legend shelf that’s
broken somehow. If that’s the case, someone who was gifted was trying to
protect something.”

“If that’s the case,” Robert repeated, “we’re not going to be
of much help to Eliza. The pressure in Agnes’ bedroom is already bad. I can’t
imagine what it’ll feel like if we go higher.”

“Isn’t there a way to counteract it?” Eliza asked. “Like with
protection?”

“A legend shelf wouldn’t be of much use if there were,”
Granger replied. “Almost all gifteds know how to take protection. A properly
set up legend shelf will keep most anything out; at least, it’ll keep out
whatever it’s been programmed to keep out.”

“I can go up there on my own,” Eliza said. “I don’t feel it.”

“No, not going to happen,” Robert replied. “We can’t let you
do that, alone. It’s far too dangerous.”

“We’ll have to figure it out,” Granger replied. “If it’s
broken somehow, we might be able to exploit it.”

“Why don’t I feel it?” Eliza asked. “Is there something wrong
with me?”

“Highly unlikely,” Granger replied. “It’s more likely that the
opposite is true. And that’s another thing we might be able to exploit.”

The opposite is true?
Eliza thought.
What does that mean?

Then she heard it, the faintest thought, rumbling around in
Robert’s mind:
she’s special.

She’s special?
she wondered.
He’s thinking I’m special?

And why can I detect what he’s thinking?

Chapter Fifteen

 

 

 

It was another long work day, and as Eliza drove from Spring
Green to Madison, she knew she was tired. In addition to not sleeping well,
worried about Shane and Rachel, she was putting in extra labor at work, trying
to lessen some of the guilt she felt for Rachel’s absence. It was catching up
with her and she knew it.

When she arrived at Granger’s place, Robert immediately
recognized what was going on.

“You’re not sleeping, are you?” he asked.

“Not very well,” she replied.

“It’s understandable, given everything that’s going on. I
hope you’re eating, and keeping up your strength?”

“Haven’t been good about that, either.”

“Have you eaten dinner?” he asked.

She paused. He took her lack of a reply as a no.

Granger came into the room, ready to go.

“She hasn’t eaten in a while,” Robert said to his father.

Granger took one look at Eliza and removed his coat. “When’s
the last time you ate?”

“I’m not hungry, really,” Eliza protested, watching as
Granger walked to the kitchen and turned on the stove.

“Answer my question!” he said. “Did you eat lunch?
Breakfast?”

Eliza thought. She honestly couldn’t remember the last time
she’d put any food in her mouth.

“We’re not going anywhere until you get something in you,”
Granger said, pulling eggs out of the refrigerator and starting up an omelet.

“I don’t think I can eat anything,” Eliza said, walking to
the counter.

“You have to,” Granger replied. “We made up a special batch
of protection, finely tuned for what we’re about to do. You can’t drink it on
an empty stomach. You’ll be three sheets to the wind. You have to eat first.”

She sat on a stool by the counter, and watched as Granger whipped
up the food.

“A special batch of protection?” she asked. “How does that
work?”

“I have a book,” Granger said as he stirred the eggs. “It was
given to me by my mother, and she got it from her father. It’s got the recipe
for the protection I’ve always made, but it also has recipes for some modifiers
to boost certain aspects. I’ve never had cause to use the modifiers before now,
but I figure this is as good a time as any to give them a go.”

“Modifiers?” Eliza asked. “Like what?”

“Like fire protection,” Granger replied. “I was surprised to
find that in the book. So we made a batch that included special ingredients
designed to provide extra fire protection.”

“And there are other modifiers?” Eliza asked.

“Lots,” Robert said, sitting next to her. “Well, dozens, at
least.”

“Why wouldn’t you just use a protection that involves them
all?” Eliza asked. “Why limit yourself?”

“What, like a super protection?” Granger asked, chuckling.
“People try. The problem is that certain combinations cancel things out. Once
you’ve got a good, solid base recipe, like we do, it works for most things. You
can get away with one or two modifiers, but if you add more than that, you have
to test them to see if they both still work. Sometimes they counteract, and you
wind up with no added effects. Some mixtures actually decrease the
effectiveness of the base recipe. So you have to be careful.”

“So complicated,” Eliza mused.

“We tested this one,” Robert said. “Very effective against
fire.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Eliza replied. “Do you think it will
be enough to get you upstairs, past the pressure you’ve been feeling?”

“There’s another modifier that might help with that,” Granger
replied, “but we didn’t have time to test them together. It won’t matter
anyway. We’re going to try something that I think might be a lot safer. To
start with, anyway.”

Eliza took the fork that Granger handed to her and began to
eat the eggs. Although she didn’t really want them, her stomach seemed to
approve of their arrival. “What?” she asked. “What are we going to try? Did you
find the map of the place?”

“Won’t need it for tonight,” Robert replied. “We’re going to
stay out on the front lawn, and explore the place entirely in the River.”

“We’ll bypass the second floor altogether,” Granger said, a
smile on his face. “We’ll rise up to the level of the attic, and pass through
the walls directly into it. That’ll keep our bodies outside, away from an
attack from Tena or Dominic, and we’ll concentrate our exploration directly on
the attic, rather than trying to find our way through the second floor.”

“We can do that?” Eliza asked, already knowing the answer.
She remembered drifting from her bedroom down to the barn while in the River,
able to pass through walls. Of course they could do it with Pitmon House.

“We should be able to,” Granger replied. “Unless there’s
something up with that legend shelf. They’re supposed to work on all levels,
keeping people out of places, including people moving in the River. We’ll just
have to see what we’re dealing with.”

Eliza increased the speed with which she ate the eggs. She
liked Granger’s plan, and was excited to try it out.

“Whoa!” Granger said, observing her. “Slow down. We’ve got
all night!”

“I want to know what’s up in that attic!” Eliza said,
speaking through the food. “There’s got to be something that will explain what
happened to Shane.”

They watched as she finished the plate and handed it back to
Granger. Then they left for Pitmon House.

 


 

The cool damp of the grass felt nice against the back of her
arms and neck. Granger was on her left, and Robert on her right, stretched out
on a section of grass that was far enough away from the main gate so as to be
out of sight of anyone passing by.

“Feeling it yet?” Granger asked.

“A little,” Robert replied. “Eliza?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I feel it. It’s different than what you
normally had us drink. Why didn’t we do this before? Lie out here and only go
in through the River?”

“When you’re trying to summon a ghost,” Granger replied, “you
need to be physically there. Tonight we’re not summoning anything.”

“Quite the opposite,” Robert replied. “We’d like to explore
and
not
run into anything, if possible.”

“OK, I get it,” Eliza replied.

“Alright,” Granger said. “If everyone’s ready, let’s give
this a shot. Straight up and then into the attic. Follow me.”

Eliza let herself slip into the River and rose from her body,
watching as Granger and Robert rose along with her. They floated upward until
they were level with the top of the house, and Granger began to move toward the
structure. It only took a couple of seconds before they arrived at the angled
roof. Granger passed inside, and Robert followed.

Eliza watched as their bodies passed into the attic, suddenly
wondering if this was all a mistake, if Rachel was right, and she should call
for them to come back.

No
,
she thought.
Don’t be afraid. Do this. Go in.

She pressed forward, and the wall gave way to a wide, open
space, covered with rough floorboards. Dust swirled in the moonlight that
poured through large dormer windows.

She turned to look for Granger and Robert, and found them
near the wall. They looked in pain.

Are you alright?
she asked.

The pressure is severe,
Robert replied, holding his head.

I still don’t feel anything,
Eliza replied.
I’m going to
search.

We’ll try to follow you,
Robert replied.

She walked toward the center of the space. The moonlight
spilled in from the right side, casting patches of light onto the ground at
intervals as she looked down the attic. It was long and large, with a high
ceiling. Furniture was stacked along the edge of one wall, with legs from
chairs jutting out awkwardly. Boxes lined another wall, and farther down more
boxes were stacked in batches in the center of the area. After walking several
steps, she turned to see Granger and Robert behind her, trying to follow, but
finding each step to be more difficult than the last.

She walked back to them, noticing a thin line of blood dripping
from Granger’s nose, running down over his goatee.

I think you’d better stop,
Eliza said.
You’re bleeding, Granger.

He raised his hand to his nose and pulled it way, coated in
the dark liquid.

You OK, Dad?
Robert asked.
Maybe we better pull back a little.

You’re bleeding too,
Eliza said, looking at Robert.

The pressure gets worse each step we take,
Robert replied.
We’ll go back to
the wall where we came in.

Maybe you should go back to the lawn,
Eliza said.

No, we’re going to keep an eye on you, at least,
Granger replied.
We’ll wait here.
Stay within eyesight. Check what you can. Be quick.

Eliza turned, looking over the large open space. Even walking
to the end of it would take a couple of minutes; examining all of it quickly
seemed impossible.

She closed her eyes and let herself focus on the automaton
she identified at The House on the Rock; she recalled the arm of the carved man,
moving over the lantern, making her feel ill. She felt a tug inside her chest as
something pointed her in a particular direction, and she opened her eyes. In
the distance just past a dormer window, a brick wall jutted out from the regular
walls of the attic. She thought for a moment of stopping to consult with
Granger and Robert, but decided instead to pursue it on her own, not wanting to
waste time.

Accelerating over the floor, she arrived at the dormer within
seconds, feeling the same ill she remembered from The House on the Rock.
It
was here,
she thought, looking down. Against the wall were two items
covered in dust cloths. She couldn’t lift the cloth to see what was underneath;
instead she allowed her face to pass through the cloth to try and inspect what
was there.

She came face to face with a small woman, not more than
twelve inches tall. Her upper body was that of a human, but her legs were green
and bent, like a frog’s. Eliza pulled back a little finding a pane of glass;
she’d gone inside a display case holding a grotesquerie.

It must be fake,
Eliza thought, looking again at the small woman. She tried
to examine the join where the doll’s body merged with the amphibian skin, but
it was smooth and gradual, completely seamless. If it was fake, it was
magnificently done.

She pulled out of the drop cloth, back into the attic.
This
has to be where he stored his stuff,
she thought.
This display is
probably something he never sold, and it’s been up here ever since.

She turned, looking at the brick wall that jutted out from
the side of the attic. It seemed incongruous, unlike the rest of the space.
Maybe
it was added after the attic was complete,
she thought. She closed her eyes
again and felt the tug once more, pulling her toward the wall.

She wanted to pass through it, but she stopped for a moment,
knowing it would take her out of the eyesight of Granger and Robert.

Just my head,
she thought.
I’ll just stick in my head and look around.

She moved toward the bricks and slowed as she hovered next to
it. She leaned forward, pressing her head down, and felt the sharp cold of the
bricks and mortar pressing into her hair and the flesh of her scalp. Surprised,
she pulled back.

Wanting to try another approach, she extended her arm and
pressed it forward, trying to pass through the wall to the other side. Her hand
met the bricks and was stopped.

Interesting,
she thought.

She walked around the wall. It stuck out eight feet from the
side of the attic, and rose all the way to the roof. She turned the corner, and
it ran another eight feet along one edge before ending and continuing back to
the attic wall. It effectively carved out an eight by eight space.

She tried to press her hand into the wall here, at the far
corner, but the bricks held firm. As her hand scraped over their rough surface,
she sensed something else; a smell. It was floral. She’d smelled it before in
her life, but couldn’t put a finger on it.

She turned to look back at Granger and Robert. They were both
watching her, about fifty feet away. Behind them she saw movement; something
was approaching them, and they were unaware.

She sped back to them, moving rapidly over the floorboards,
passing through stacks of boxes and furniture on the way. As she got closer,
she saw the red eyes and the ignition of the flame in Dominic’s hands. This
time there was no black fog hiding him; his lean body was fully on display. In
his hand was a blowtorch. He cracked an igniter and the flame roared to life.

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