The Strangely Beautiful Tale Of Miss Percy Parker (20 page)

Partially hidden behind the headmistress, Percy turned to glimpse the beautiful woman she had first seen at the ball. Something exploded within her. A rebellious part of Percy wished to proclaim that she and Alexi weren’t in the midst of a tutorial at all, but rather discussing the correct manner in which to commence a scandalous affair—and could they please be left to it? But staring at Alexi with a fierce mixture of panic and confusion, Percy simply shook her head.

Alexi, seeming similarly at a loss, hesitated. “Miss Thompson, would you allow us one further moment? I am advising Miss Parker on a personal matter in regard to a return to the convent. As she has no family to answer her questions, I con
sider it my duty to finish my appraisal. Would Miss Linden be so kind as to wait upon the bench outside? Miss Parker will send her in as she departs.”

“Well, then,” the headmistress bristled. “Good evening to you both.”

The door shut behind the two uninvited women. Percy turned again to Alexi, and words tumbled forth before she could stop them. “Thank you for giving me a moment. I know that that woman outside is far more beautiful than I could ever hope to be, Alexi, and so I beg you not to trifle with my heart. If there should be something between you—”

“Percy, truly!”

She could not help herself. “So much is secret about you, Alexi. I’m wary of your silence. However…whatever may happen here between you and her, should you advance similarly upon her as you did me, remember, there are witnesses.” She gestured to a floating figure near the phonograph. The spectral boy smiled and waved. “And remember, I can speak with them.”

“Why, Miss Parker!”

“I only now realize that there are times when timidity must be abandoned, Alexi, and that there are things worth a fight. I’m weary of spending my life afraid of what I do not know.” Percy sighed, weary beyond her years, and rose to her feet. “I wish we could’ve gone to the opera tonight, but then again, I never thought I could. Good evening, and I’ll await your next instruction.” She gave the window a glance and added, “Make it soon, Professor, as I’ve no idea how quickly those horsemen outside may advance.”

She curtseyed lightly and glided to the door, where she turned. “Lastly, yes—in my opinion, you are worth a fight.” Then she exited, leaving him staring after her, slack-jawed.

As she proceeded down the hall, Percy thought about the scarf around her head. Steeling her courage, she whipped it off and strode down to the dimly lit rotunda at the center of the second floor. There she found Miss Linden on a small
marble bench, sweeping skirts a sea of emerald around an irritatingly beautiful physique. Her eyes as bright green as her dress, Miss Linden’s attention snapped to Percy, and when their eyes met Miss Linden gasped. A threatened fascination began to work its way over her beautiful, creamy-skinned features, and the look gave Percy a jolt of satisfaction.

She held her head high. If this was indeed a rivalry, she would stake a strong claim. “Good evening, Miss Linden, I am Percy Parker. Professor Rychman will see you now. The professor is very kind to me and spends a great deal of time concerned with my welfare, as would any truly gifted…tutor.”

“Of course. I’m certain he’s very talented,” the beauty replied.

“Yes. I owe him much,” Percy stated, flashing a smile and politely inclining her head. “Have a pleasant evening, Miss Linden.”

The woman’s eyes suddenly clouded. “Forgive me, Miss Parker, but…are you human? The professor seems to keep strange company.”

The words cut to the quick, but Percy mastered herself. “I assure you: while I look like a ghost, I’m no spirit or demon. I’m nothing but a girl struggling to make her way in an intolerant world. I bleed, I love, and someday, I’ll die. And you?”

Miss Linden smiled. “Much the same.”

“Indeed. Good night.” And with that, Percy swept off. But she could not help but turn her thoughts again to Alexi.
Strange company?
What would this woman know about it, or about him? To feel so close to someone and yet have no idea about his soul or his thoughts…Percy clenched her jaw and fled to her room.

Alexi shook the lingering effects of Percy’s presence from his mind and opened the door to find the exquisite Miss Linden. “A pleasure to see you again, mademoiselle,” he stated with a polite bow, gesturing her inside. “Do have a seat.”

His visitor took her time evaluating his office and finally sat, turning to offer him a winning smile. “It is wonderful to see
you
again, Professor.”

He nodded. “You’re looking lovely as ever.”

“Thank you, Professor.” Her eyes sparked as she smiled. “Appearances are so important, are they not?”

“Perhaps,” Alexi replied, uncertain if she referenced his being closeted with a student. “I trust you are well since last I saw you at the ball? I regret that work prevented me from bidding you a proper good evening, I hope you’ll not find me hopelessly rude.”

Miss Linden’s smile remained flawless, but she spoke with crisp efficiency. “Professor, I have no doubt we could continue charming pleasantries for quite some time, but might I propose that we set such delights aside and press right on to the point?”

Alexi raised an eyebrow. “I did not know you and I had business.”

“As a matter of fact,” the woman promised, “we do.”

“Well, then, Miss Linden, please be so kind as to enlighten me.”

The beauty leaned forward, her green eyes both inviting and mesmerizing. “It would appear, Professor, that you need me.”

The door of the café burst open and an impressive whirlwind of black fabric and wild dark hair made a direct line toward an unsuspecting Elijah Withersby. Lifting him from his seat by a thin arm, Alexi dragged the startled Elijah to a corner of the café and bent over him, transfixing him with
an arctic gaze. The few patrons remaining at such a late hour who did not belong to The Guard looked on in titillated interest, while Alexi’s friends looked on in alarm.

“Hullo, Alexi, fancy seeing you here—”

“What did you tell her?” Alexi hissed, inches from Elijah’s nose.

“What?”

“What did you tell Miss Linden?”

“Oh, her.” Elijah smiled nervously. “Well, she failed to take to the wipe, Alexi; we thought she was clean—”

“She wasn’t. She watched your entire little dance with that shrieker.”

“Well, yes, we gathered that.”

“Just a few moments ago she told me all about it, in immaculate detail. I thought she might present me a dainty watercolour rendition of the scene. Now she wants to help. It came to my attention that you let on we were looking for an addition. Did you?”

Elijah squirmed.

“Did you?”

“Alexi, let go of me, and let’s not make a scene, shall we? Sit down and I’ll tell you what was said. Quietly.”

Alexi reluctantly released his grip, and Elijah rubbed his arm. The two joined the table where Michael and Rebecca sat watching. Alexi glowered at them all.

“Alexi, listen,” Elijah began. “Miss Linden has been so intrigued—particularly by you, if you’ve been paying any bloody attention. She’s been taking refuge here at the café from God knows what, always inquires about you and feels connected to us…and, Alexi, we all feel it, too.” He looked at the others, who nodded. “When I found out that she could see everything we did, I drew her aside and inquired more of her. She confessed that disturbing things have always happened to her, and she wanted to know if we could shed light on her condition. I said my friends and I enjoyed a good haunting, and would be happy to hear her experiences—”

“And that you were looking for someone! Someone like her! You had no right to impart our secrets!” Alexi snarled.

Rebecca’s eyes widened. “Did you tell her that, Elijah? Without consulting us first?”

“I was terribly vague! I didn’t share any secrets!” Elijah hissed. “I believe in nothing more than the subtle nature of our work, but she
saw
—”

“Did you ever mention me as anything other than a friend?”

“Well, other than my usual sarcasms…no,” he replied.

“Whatever you may have hinted at, Miss Linden has without a doubt pinned me as your leader,” Alexi stated. “I told her she was a lunatic for giving me such credit, though I couldn’t fault her taste.” An amused grin hitched at his lips.

“Alexi, open your damn eyes. She’s who we’re looking for!” Elijah snapped, emboldened by the sudden glimpse of levity. “The strength of my conviction is the reason I spoke of things I’d never, under any other circumstance, dare to reveal.”

Michael and Rebecca stared anxiously at Alexi, who took a measured breath. He was careful to make his next declaration a calm one. “I would not be so sure.”

“You just wait. I would bet the Withersby estate that we’ll see a portal door any day now.”

Alexi set his jaw. “But it is not the time to be loose-lipped.”

It would not do to discredit Elijah’s beliefs, for Alexi understood his friend’s reasoning. Yet he himself had a different notion, needed Prophecy to be otherwise, though he had only corollary proof. He glanced at Rebecca, who simply stared at him in silence.

“Why are you so hesitant, Alexi?” Josephine asked, moving to join the group at the table.

“There is…something else,” he replied.

Michael adjusted his vicar’s collar and pressed, “If you have strong presentiments, you must share them. We have a right to be privy to your thoughts on this matter.”

“Of course, and you will hear them,” Alexi agreed.
“Eventually. But for now you must not speak of anything to anyone outside of this group. Until you see a door as Prophecy decreed, I want you to keep Miss Linden at bay and in the dark. There may be plots afoot. We cannot know whom to trust.”

The Guard nodded, though it was clear they were all on edge.

Alexi offered to accompany Rebecca back to the academy. A carriage awaited them at the corner, so he helped her into the cab and took the seat across from her. The ride, save for the clatter of wheels over cobblestones, was silent for quite some time.

He felt Rebecca’s eyes bore into him, and he waited for her to speak.

“So, after that meeting you remain fixed. You stand by her as your choice?”

“Hmm?” Alexi kept his eyes on the passing alleyways of the dark city.

“Miss Parker. She remains your choice. I mean, you had her in your office after hours and on a weekend! For God’s sake, did I not tell you to be cautious? I’ll ask you again. Not that it has anything to do with Prophecy, but will make things more complicated: do you
love
her, Alexi?”

He heard the words and could only turn to stare at his friend for a long moment. Finally he admitted, “I’m not sure I would know it if I did.”

Rebecca’s eyes narrowed with weary skepticism. “You would know, Alexi.”

“No, I don’t know that I would,” he insisted, his broad shoulders tight with worry. “I forbade myself the very thought for so long, thinking only of that ethereal goddess we saw once in our youths…I forbade myself all sentiment until the time was right.”

“And now the time is right.” Rebecca sighed. “Is
she?
”

Alexi closed his eyes and leaned back into the leather of his seat. “In so many ways.”

Rebecca’s mouth contorted into an ugly grimace, but she kept silent.

The driver stopped in front of Promethe Hall. Alexi descended from the carriage and helped Rebecca out. Uncertain moments passed. Finally, she moved to embrace him and he returned it hesitantly. Ominous clouds began to tumble in on the whole of London, covering the moon with their dark mass. The salt taste of unsettled forces was potent in the air.

As she drew back, there was a moment where Rebecca lingered and watched his face, but she could see his mind labouring with conflict. She pulled away completely and murmured, “Bring her to us. Nothing else can be done until you bring her to us. We must see what you see, otherwise there shall be no happy end to Prophecy at all.”

He nodded slowly. “Good night, my dear.”

As Alexi turned and walked away, Rebecca felt something sharp drive deeper into her bosom. His footsteps echoed back from the broken stones of the narrow, pillared alley to the side of the great Athens portico, on toward Apollo Hall. She listened to those footfalls and waited for them to stop, to perhaps turn around, for him to come back and admit he was a fool for denying her all these years. Of course they did not.

She cursed herself for not taking advantage of his moment of hesitancy. She might have simply pressed her lips to his, to know what it would feel like, to know what she might have enjoyed were they not fated to such damnably odd lives. But a woman did not simply kiss a man, however long she’d known him and however much she cared for him; it would not do. These damnable standards of propriety kept her a gentlewoman but made her feel as hollow as the ghosts she saw.

While she was cursing things, she spared a moment for her morals. The damned Work kept her always on guard, never appreciated. If she wasn’t sure that people would die without her contribution, she would have walked away from
her fate long ago. Pressing her hand to the creases of her aging flesh, she wished a fleeting wish she would never dare utter: that her skin were younger and deathly white.

Heaving open the great front doors of the academy, she nodded curtly to the guard inside. Then, heedless of the hour, she went to her desk, listened in isolation to the coming storm.

The spirit who often floated near the chandelier in the main hall drifted through her door and bobbed up and down. Rebecca looked up and barked, “What do you want?”

The spirit frowned, and it appeared as though he was about to cry.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Rebecca muttered. Exaggeratedly, she winked. Ghosts were creatures of routine, she had learned. It was always her custom to look up and wink at the young spirit, but she’d stormed past tonight and ignored him. Appeased, he remained staring at her with helpless sadness, as if he wanted to help but knew he couldn’t. He mouthed something that looked like it could have been the word “Mother” before he vanished back through the door, but she couldn’t be sure.

At one point in her life, she would have found the scene emotionally powerful, beautiful and endearing; it would have renewed her faith in her work and herself, in that she mattered to those around her. But tonight she found no comfort even in the storm that broke overhead, and saw other clouds that would darken all her remaining days. She could think only of Alexi, realize he did not and could not return her feelings, that he was captivated instead by snowwhite tresses and eyes shaded by glass, captivated perhaps to the point of catastrophe.

She wondered how to stop him. After a long moment of contemplation, she wrote a letter to the reverend mother of Miss Parker’s convent. She could, with these few simple sentences, send the girl packing. But…Alexi would not forgive her.

Her pen stilled on the page as another thought occurred: Was this about Prophecy at all, or did she, without warrant, hate that ghost of a girl for purely personal reasons? Was she, Rebecca Thompson, one of those fated, as Prophecy warned, to be a betrayer?

Her sadness hardened inside as she put her face in her hands to cry. When all was said and done, there would be no heart of hers left to love or to betray.

Percy had been pacing her room for hours, brooding and refusing to take down her hair or remove her lovely dress despite the time. A sharp rap sounded at the door, startling her. Flying to attend, she found nothing outside save a note tacked beneath the fading room number:

Come to the office. Presently.

—A

Making an eager bolt for Apollo Hall via out-of-the-way passages she had previously determined, she found dread gnawing at her nerves. The distant barking seemed nearer, and Percy could have sworn dark shapes were scurrying in the shadows. All manner of strangeness frolicked with unusual menace this night.

Before she ducked into the hall, the night sky made her pause. There was something new and alarming about the closeness of that sparkling canopy of stars. It was as if, for the first time ever, she was aware of the heavens as a finite layer, and this was because a small line was being drawn above, a thin line like lightning, fractured and splitting further. The sky was
cracking.

Percy ran up the few flights of stairs to Alexi’s office, darted in without knocking and closed the door, her heart in her throat. He was there waiting, standing pensively at his mantel, drinking the glass of wine he’d poured himself earlier. Hers remained untouched.

Her churning heart was elated to see him, yet she was fearful of any new knowledge that this meeting might provide. Deciding to keep the madness of her latest sight to herself, she focused on trying to control her breath and on enjoying the wonders of the man before her—if indeed she had any opportunity.

“Are you all right, Persephone?” he asked.

She set her jaw. “Never mind me. You?”

“Thank you for returning.”

“Of course.”

The two fell into a long silence, staring at each other.

Finally, overwhelmed by emotion, Percy could no longer maintain his stare and broke from it. Eternity lay within his eyes, and all she wanted was to collapse in his hold and feel safe and loved. “What did she want with you, Alexi?” she blurted, unable to keep jealousy from her tone. “Beautiful as she was.”

“She wanted to join my club,” was his reply.

“You have a club?” Percy turned, raising an eyebrow. “Let me guess—a club of six, looking for someone new. To make seven.”

“Yes,” he replied.

“And what, may I ask, is the purpose of this club?”

“Public service, Percy, nothing more,” Alexi remarked. “Now, I still owe you an opera, dear girl, but for now I need you to tell me—do you still see foreboding shapes on the horizon?” He directed her gaze out the window.

Percy looked. Nodding, she gulped, for the sky resembled an eggshell waiting to split. “Yes, the silhouettes are still there. I hear whispers, too, and strange noises. And I see…other frightening things. But I cannot make out what the whispers are telling me, nor why I’m seeing what I see. Every now and then I hear the ticking of a clock, though there be none near me. And barking. That barking! I feel fevered. Please don’t think me mad, Alexi—”

“I never did,” he interrupted.

“The air is full of dread. I’m tired of seeing doors and shadowy figures and flames when there’s so much beauty in the world,” she murmured, staring longingly at Alexi’s face for a moment before turning away.

“The visions are coming to me nightly now,” she admitted, rising from her chair and crossing behind the desk. She inched toward Alexi’s throne of a chair, desperate to be closer to him. Expecting to be rebuffed, she was instead surprised when he reached out and took one of her cool white hands and pressed it to his lips; she gave a tiny gasp.

Percy could not take her eyes away from the shape and sensation of his mouth against her hand. A shiver worked up her spine, but his eyes stayed riveted to hers, his lips lingering on her flesh—the most sensual sight she could imagine. Her other hand was instantly required to steady herself upon the marble.

Alexi released her hand but not her eyes, and Percy felt her head spin with a glimpse of a vision: The city raced by. She held on to a strong form as their horse pounded onward, away from something terrible—

Percy blinked, returning from the blur of the vision to see that her hands were now clenched into trembling fists and she’d sunken into her chair once again. Dread of the vision lingered like acrid smoke in her nostrils.