The Girl Who Came to Bedlaam

X. What Moves in the Cellar?

There are only three keys to the cellar and for a long while I stared at the adlock at my feet before peering into the darkness that reached halfway up the stairs.

"What are you looking for?"

I gave a violent start, nearly dropping my candle into the abyss as a curious pair of eyes peeked past my shoulder..

"Don't sneak up on me! Eres does it so often I fear I'll meet my death by the likes of him."

She set her jaw. "Who is Eres? He doesn't sound very nice and I don't like the thought of him frightening you."

I shook my head.

"Never mind," and reaching for the padlock, "the cellar' s been tampered with. And none are to have the keys except Mrs. Satcher, Ms. Petruny and Ms. Laggsby, and myself," I added after her inquisitive gaze landed on the key in my hand.

"I thought there were only three keys."

"There are. These belong to Ms. Laggsby—wait! It must be Petruny down there."

"No, not Petruny," my companion said slowly. "She is in the land of dreams as we speak."

"Well, it isn't Mrs. Satch—"

A low grating reached us from below, followed by the pitter-patter of hurrying feet. Fear gripped me instantly.

"The madman! Oh, he's gotten in somehow—Quistelle!"

She was slowly descending the cracked steps when she looked back with electrifying eyes.

"I have to get him, so keep quiet, will you?"

This brave yet unbelievably stupid Morovi meant to face the burglar alone, and in the cellar! Nothing would possess me to stand there as she took on this demon, and I bolted, ready to wake Petruny and Laggsby and everyone else for that matter. I hadn't gone three feet before she grabbed me, and shook me with a strength I never guessed her to possess.

"No! I will not let you and your big mouth be the ruin of him!" There was a burning glint in her eyes which frightened me more than her ferocity or whoever lingered in the cellar. And I stood, too shaken to say or do anything.

Her eyes softened. She slackened her grip and with a sigh, patted my hand gently.

"I am sorry. I was vicious."

All I could do was nod.

"Please trust me. He's good and wouldn't hurt a bee unless necessary. Come see for yourself." And taking my trembling hand and relieving me of my candle, she guided me down the stairs.

"Where are you?" she called in a faint whisper.

The candlelight bounced off the dusty bottles resting in their nooks and cubbies, while mice scuttled across our path shrieking and squealing their curses at our light.

"Ugh! Now I remember why I hated to come down here," I said, finding my voice. "I don't like rodents. They're filthy things."

Quistelle smiled faintly. Then said quietly,

"Try not to make any sudden movements, Miss Lia. He is rather particular about unfamiliar people."

I was tempted to say something sharp despite my pounding chest. But I decide against it, watching her carefully as we crept along.

She could do anything to me down her, I thought, and all the rumours I'd heard over the last few weeks came rushing at me in a whirlwind. Why did she look so evil earlier? Those eyes could easily belong to witch, couldn't they? What if...?