Secret Places and Hidden Things

Chapter Twenty-Five

After the events in the solarium, Jack decided to spend some time reading the book Daerk had given him. It kept drawing him to open the cover, but he wasn't sure what it was trying to teach him. It had its own sort of intelligence, matching what it said to what was happening around him. It was still full of poetry, but occasionally pictures or symbols would appear in the margins now. These often struck some familiar chord in the back of his mind, and he'd go thumbing through his drawings, finding similarities in things he'd made weeks before. He never had a solid moment of clarity, but somehow, slowly, a vague understanding was creeping into his mind. It was like Michael had said, a feeling of freedom and effortlessness was seeping into the cracks between his thoughts.

Today he had planned to go sit by the river in the solarium to read, but he had run into Wynne walking the opposite way with a huge armful of vegetables. Before he'd been able to say anything, she had shoved them into his arms saying, "Oh, good! Take these to the dining room for me," and walked back the way she'd come. Jack had no choice but to make his way to the dining room, tottering behind the wall of green.

He was surprised when he got there; the room had expanded a great deal. There was a full kitchen, with pots and pans boiling merrily on the stove tops and no less than seven ovens. It probably would have been hot if it hadn't been winter. The windows were propped open letting in a crisp breeze. As usual, the dining room seemed to be on the ground floor, and a sliding door was opened into a closed courtyard strung up with lights.

Jack dropped his armful of vegetables and looked around. There were clusters of candles burning on the tables, and the new kitchen area had focused lamps lighting the counter area. The fire was burning low in the grate. It was a cloudy day with a sparse snow drifting by, and the effect was rather dark, even with the light coming from the windows.

"Hello Jack, did you come to help in the kitchen?" Michael asked. He was sitting by the fireplace with the fox. It didn't look like he was helping much.

Before Jack could answer, Wynne bustled in with two more armfuls of assorted plant life and thumped them down on the table. "Well, I think that should hold me over," she said and went to check the pots. She looked like an old crone, lit from below by the dim counter lamps, stirring her bubbling cauldrons. The steam made her hair frizzy.

Daerk walked in, looking around carefully. He caught sight of Jack, but before he could make his way over, Wynne grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him to the counter. He gave Jack a helpless glance over his shoulder.

"Daerk! It's good to see you, old boy, we've been too far apart lately! Something's drawn us all close together today, so I thought I'd take advantage of it. I remember how much you liked cooking."

Daerk's face brightened. "Oh, do I like cooking?"

"Of course you do. Here, chop these onions for me." She grabbed what looked like a handful of dirt. "They might need a good wash first."

Daerk took the onions dreamily and wandered over to the tap.

"You said we've drawn closer together?" Jack asked, walking over to the counter.

"Yes, would you believe it? My balcony is on the ground floor today. It led right in here."

Jack peeked out the small doorway and saw that it was, indeed, Wynne's balcony. Or, at least, something like it. There were the ever-present French doors, and the seating around the edges looked similar, but the rest of it looked more like a small courtyard.

"You like the lights? I thought I'd be festive."

"Are you making all this food for a reason, Wynne?" Michael asked.

"Oh, maybe. I thought it'd be fun, at the very least." She grabbed a jar filled with some unnameable concoction and tossed it into a pot. What looked like a huge serpent emerged from it, then resolved itself into blue-black column of smoke. It certainly hissed like a snake. A charred, acrid smell drifted by, instantly replaced by something flowery.