The Derenial: The Case on High Earl Street

Chapter 2- My Reasons (2)

Sarah's POV

Both Edward Bailey and Tomas Rowe placed a hand on my back and walked me down the stairs and through the front doors of the manor. The driver moved awkwardly as if on strings, opening the back door and looking out unblinkingly over my head. I entered of my own volition, a single glance back to the upstairs window where mother peered through the curtains. Once I got in the only light was from the lamps outside strewn through the bars on the windows and it did not help that the two men sat pleasantly in front of me. Mr. Bailey took a cane and knocked at the carriage wall and the driver ushered the horses forward, placing the cane across his lap.

I watched as the house went further and further through the barred window until a hedge blocked the view and we entered into a thinned forest. I'd been in that forest many times, played between the trees and occasionally had tea parties, but that was confined to the daylight and its countenance was changed in the starlight. The darkness the trees gave off was unforgiving and I sat back in the seat, streaks passing Tomas Rowe's face. It was burning embers of vermillion that flashed green for a moment, then a moment more. I lurched forward to the window and searched for the outlandish green light, a light like that of what happened in my room.

Outside the carriage was an army of green lights dashing just below the canopy, some falling close to the ground. They flickered on and off and I looked into an empty meadow. It was one thing to see dead people, it was another to be fascinated by an empty meadow supposedly full of green lights. As we rode I looked only at the forest, the two men and my captivity the last thing on my mind. The first was, of course, magic. I reared as one flashed near the window and from then on kept my head securely to the metal back of the seat.

"Fireflies are peaceful, are they not?" Mr. Bailey said wistfully as he looked out, then at my face through dimmed light. "I suppose you don't think so." Fireflies, I thought as I was curled in my nightgown. It makes more than enough sense. Bailey coughed and tapped his cane to the floor. "Forgive the silence, my dear. Our facades have not been to scare you, we simply cannot leave our cautiousness. Our secrets are far too wild and any upstanding member of our fair country would surely condemn us to chains. We'll be at an inn in an hour. Southampton."

"So I'm not going to a madhouse?" I had asked both of them, relief washing over me.

"On the contrary, quite. The world you are about to see will make you realise that it is people like your mother and father that are in confines." He brought out the tool once more, now seeing the end of it. It was a blunted wooden tool twenty centimetres long, white streaking through its maroon rings. He tapped the end of it to the carriage, whispering, "katteletzo."

The carriage glowed for a moment and the corners rounded, the bars melting into the now wooden walls while leather covered much of the area. Under me, the metal gave way and I fell into a cushion. The ceiling folded like a blooming flower and from its stem sprouted a candle. I realised only then that I had been seeing as if the candle had been there the entire time and I found no discomfort from the metal seat, but a veil had been keeping me from these thoughts.

And although I did not see it at the time, I was told that the coachman was nothing but a hallucination and that the carriage was driving itself. It was in all aspects refined and beautiful, one that only a lord would brandish alongside his hat,luxurious clothes, children, and wife.

"I want out," I said in a panic, grasping at the door handle. It opened with ease, certainly not like the prisoner's carriage I thought it was a moment before. Once the door was opened I saw us crossing the forest at speeds most horses could only hold for a moment. I was frozen as I thought of jumping.

"You're not going mad," Tomas Rowe said. He reached for the door handle, although didn't close it. Instead, he let me gaze out for a few minutes and breath in the evergreen air, a cold biting my scalp that let me know I could still feel between all the confusion. I looked at Mr. Rowe and he looked at me. I must have sent him a message because he slowly closed the door with a click and I obediently sat back down, my ears clearer and my willingness piqued. "Countess Bymann, by now you understand our job, yes?"