Bleeding Bird

X

"I'm so horribly confused," Helen shook her head. Others were leaving the room and the Musgraves were growing closer.

Auntie Jude eyed her, "don't humiliate yourself talking like that, Helen."

Helen instantly colored, and bit her tongue. She sat up straighter. If she just nodded and smiled, she could do this. She would listen, gather information, and no one would be the wiser. Except, at this point, everyone knew she was desperately clueless.

The Musgraves were standing before her now, but it wasn't until everyone else had gone that Mrs. Musgrave spoke.

"Miss Helen," she said gravely, "I believe you require a lesson in this estate's history."

Helen nodded as they pulled up chairs and sat down across from her. She looked up, accidently catching Rush's eye. He looked concerned, and she couldn't help but mirror that emotion.

"Your Auntie's estate has been used for many years as a base for the most mysterious device this world has met. A mirror," Mrs. Musgrave explained, "it is kept under ground in our home for safe keeping. We only somewhat control its location however. It can disappear. Most of the time, it remains physically present. It selects someone, Miss Meredith for example, be its keeper. They are the only ones who can see what the mirror depicts. While the mirror is present on the estate's grounds, the estate is generally safe—unless there is no keeper. If there is no keeper, it is a sort of raw power, seeking death."

"What does the mirror depict?" Helen asked bravely.

Mrs. Musgrave bit her lip and sighed, "the mirror shows people how they die. They cannot see their own reflection. Only the keeper can."

It took a moment for those words to set in. And when they did, Helen only had more questions. Did it show how they died from their perspective? From someone else's perspective? Was it prophetic? Could you change what it said about you? But she didn't get a chance to ask any more questions.

"Because the birds are emblems of death and the mirror is a sort of way to control death—it depicts it, it projects it—it keeps them away. We do not claim to know how it works or its true connection to the birds," Auntie Jude said.

"But it can kill its keeper?" Helen ventured. She didn't want to sound afraid, or foolish if she'd misheard something. She felt stupid even saying the words. It all sounded so odd and false, almost like childish make believe. A mirror that could keep the beasts away? How could that be true? But it did align with what her father had always said about her Auntie's estate. It was generally safe.

"Yes," Mrs. Musgrave said grimly. She stared at Helen, sizing her up.

Helen felt incredibly self-conscious. Though there weren't many of them in the meeting room, she felt like the entire world was watching her—including a mysterious presence outside of the four people she knew before her.

"So, when would you like to see the mirror?" Mrs. Musgrave asked. "Until you go to it, you are not its keeper. Which means it cannot kill you."

Helen nodded slowly.

"But until it has a keeper, the beasts will continue to kill around the estate," Auntie Jude concluded.

Helen swallowed. On one side, she was all too curious to meet her new "master." The mirror sounded fascinating, and important. But it also seemed like so much responsibility that she didn't even understand. Did she have to live down there with the Musgraves? Did she have to live in the mirror's little room? She feared death as well. It had killed Meredith very quickly, and it was holding keepers short and shorter times of late. Perhaps it would only allow her to remain alive a few days before decided that she was not what it wanted...

"Three days," Auntie Jude said finally. "That will give you a few more days to learn and gather your wits."

Helen nodded, and tried to verbally agree, to sound confident. But her voice was gone. Like a rug tugged out from under her feet, she could not find her footing. The Musgraves stood and prepared to leave, Mrs. Musgrave requesting that a carriage be sent to escort them to the cemetery to avoid certain death. It wasn't until after they were gone that Auntie Jude turned to her.

"Keeper of the mirror," Auntie Jude said, "I had high hopes for Meredith. Perhaps it did too...until you came along." There was no bitterness in that statement to Helen's surprise, but it did ring with regret, "well. Your three days are ticking away and I must write to Meredith's family."

Helen slowly found her way to her room. Donna was there, sitting on her bed still. Her eyes flickered up as Helen entered.

"How did it go?" Donna asked.

"I'm..." suddenly, Helen wasn't sure if she was allowed to say anything about it. She supposed it was probably a secret. After all, everyone had been told that Meredith was simply a tutor. She vowed to ask Auntie Jude before revealing her new information to anyone else. "It went well."

Donna didn't respond.

"Where's Lillian?" Helen asked.

"Probably with Horatio. She's been gone for hours. Either that, or she's writing to her family. She's always writing to them."

Helen nodded. She thought about writing her father. What would she even say after all this? After all this? Helen...this is just beginning, she realized. "Do you think you can get me some cake from the kitchen?" She suddenly realized how hungry she was. Donna nodded, and they set off.

When they passed through the great hall with the high high ceiling and the wall of glass windows that overlooked the cemetery, she almost paused. Mrs. Musgrave and the little boy were no where to be seen. Rush stood beside the window, talking to Will. Will saw her and waved. She returned the wave, but couldn't manage a very normal smile. Rush lifted his eyes briefly to hers and she looked away. What did he think of her? She had marched onto the grounds and instantly ruined the dynamics.

She shook her head, trying not to think about her future occupation. But at the same time, she longed to know more, "do you know much about them? The Musgraves?"

"Who?" Donna asked.

"Them. The Musgraves."

"No."

"The ones that live in the cemetery," she clarified. "That's the older son." She nodded toward the boys.

"Hm," Donna shrugged, "never seen them before. But I know who you're talking about. They never come out. Even before the dad died, they were like that. The mom doesn't allow them to leave unless someone has died and they're burying the corpse."

Helen bit her lip, stealing a glance at Rush once more. He was hansom enough. He seemed quiet. If he never left that little hole in the ground, she would probably be forced to see him and his family a lot. She wondered at what kind of life he'd had. 

It's my life now, she thought, and walked faster.