“Oh, oh, don't cry little one. You just startled me is all.” Ammablique picked up the robe and wrapped it around herself, pushing the little girl forward and out of the wash room. She picked up the simple garment from the bedside and slipped into it, her fingers deftly finding their way around the unfamiliar clothes. She nudged the tiny girl out the door of the bedroom, smiling down at her. “So where might I find the big mean ol' master of this place?” She made a playful grimace before laughing softly.
“I am right here.” Ammablique stopped and looked down the hall, D'Inglist stood with his back to her, one hand placed on the doorknob and the other on the door, trying to close it as quietly as the door would let him. The little girl ran over to him, stopping with an exaggerated bounce on her heels. “Was Miss Ammablique being unkind to you Belladolla?” He looked down at her as she shook her head no, his expression soft and fatherly, a small smile threatening to take command of his mouth. Something about this house changed him, like he wore his disgruntled nature as a mask, or maybe this was the mask. She was unsure what to make of him. The girl skipped away merrily, stopping before the steps to turn around and wave goodbye. Ammablique waved in response, smiling at the girl as twirled away. She looked back at D'Inglist, her smile fading. “Tea is waiting in the drawing room.” He turned and descended down the stairs and she followed.
-
Dr. Murdrick shivered and rubbed his hands up and down quickly over his arms. He wasn't really cold, in fact he had been sweating pretty profusely since he had been brought there, but the goosebumps came so often they almost hurt now and he wanted, if nothing else, then to be free from that one discomfort, seeing as he would not be free from many others soon.
The door to his cell scrapped against the floor as it was opened. The tall silhouette walking into the soft light of the single candle, the shadows playing tricks with his mind, bringing out Dr. Murdrick's visitor's true likeness instead of the beautifully crafted mask he had been given for a face. He was covered in blood, his carefully crafted garments now stained with brown splatters. Dr. Murdrick turned his face away, swallowing as he did, the stench of iron filling the room.
“You sent her to D'inglist.” the voice was cold, each word stabbing at his head like a thick icicle. Dr. Murdrick's smirk was greeted with a hard backhand. His head rolled down to the middle of his chest, his cheek already swelling from the impact but he held his half smile. She had found him and he had protected her just as he knew he would. Velofice had only confirmed his greatest hope, nothing else really matter, if he was to die, at least he knew D'Inglist would be there to protect her, to keep them from getting at her. He winced as his head was pulled back by his hair, grunting slightly as he looked at the demon with his not swollen eye, Velofice's face just inches from his now, his hot breath lingering in the space between them. “How do you know D'Inglist?” Dr. Murdrick swallowed, trying not to gag from the stench coming from the demons mouth. It continually intrigued him how creatures who could so easily change into the appearance of heavenly beings could some how be so foul. He winced as his bruised cheek was pushed against, the sharp nails from his captor piercing his flesh, the warm blood running down his cheek. “I will get her and you will die.” Velofice turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door closed behind him, licking his fingers as he walked down the dark corridor.
-
“So, exactly who is your father?” the spoon swirled the steaming liquid, the half a teaspoon of sugar surely already dissolved and yet he keep his eyes on the cup as if it was the most interesting object in the room.
“My father is a famous doctor and scientist, his name is Edward Murdrick.” the spoon stopped as D'Inglist looked up, his eyes focused on the wall behind her. She watched him, he had a far off look, as if the past was a play now being performed for him. “Mr. D'Inglist?” His eyes turned to her before glancing down, a look of sadness about his features. “Mr. D'Inglist, you do my father, don't you.”
He placed the saucer and cup down on the table between them as he stood. He walked to a chocolate brown secretary desk, flipping the latch and lowering the the moveable writing tray. He removed a key from his breast pocket and unlocked a small door. He placed his back to her, blocking her view of his hands as he removed a false side, pulling out a small envelope, the wax seal broken.
“Did you already know who my father was?”
“No.”
“One doesn't just carry around a random key.”
“I didn't know but I had a feeling Miss Murdrick. I had hoped I was wrong though.” he handed over the envelope, sitting back down, his tea completely forgotten. Ammablique pulled out a small piece of paper, her fathers neat script running the length of the page.
Dear Mr D'Inglist,
I hope you are in good health and that the world, as it is has treated you well. I am not sure if you remember me but many years ago you were found half dead on my parent's farm. We nursed you back to health, you stayed with us for almost a year after as a farm hand. You taught me many great new things, including a very interesting and old song, then one day a man came and spoke with you, you informed us that night at dinner that you were leaving the next day. I was young and you were as a brother to me and so I very angrily told you to go. I have learned through the years the good you have done and I came to learn your leaving was something that you needed to do. Please forgive my childish behavior.
The day you left you gave my father a vile of holy water and my mother an amulet you said would protect her from evil. You also told them that you owed them your life and therefore if ever they needed you would come to their aid. They lived happy and long lives and never made good on this. I have no idea if you are willing to fulfill an inherited promise but if you are I would like for us to meet so we can discuss the details. I will be at the cafe La Trio at 11:00 am on this Sunday.
Sincerely,
Dr. Edward Murdrick
She stared at the page, her tears dripping onto it, making little water marks on the bottom of the page. She reread it, her brow furrowing. “Mr. D'Inglist, this letter is dated just one week before he disappeared, he was kidnapped only two days before you were to meet.”
“I had a feeling something of the sort might have happened. I had hoped to track his whereabouts but even so, I found it exceedingly hard to do that. When we met I was sitting in the tavern trying to figure out, from all the clues I had pieced together, where your actually house might be. Your father is rather ingenious to be able to hide it so well.”
“Not well enough I'm afraid, the Leaphon found it.” His look darkened momentarily, gritting his teeth unconsciously at the mention of the demons. “I'm sorry Mr. D'Inglist, did you say you were in the tavern trying to think of where we lived?”
“Yes, why?”
“Because you just looked asleep.” He laughed, a big booming noise as the look of both confusion and skepticism making her face scrunch.
“I can't think nonstop, sometimes whats needed most is a bit of rest” She turned her face away, of course he was right, she was merely thinking of her need to find her father and so had completely overlooked the needs of the man before her. “I suppose we should figure out why the Leaphon want your father, that way we can determine if he is still alive or not. Once we have that in place we can make a better plan as to what we are going to do. However, it is late and so we should retire for the evening and start fresh in the morning.” D'Inglist stood, holding out his hand to her. Ammablique looked at the letter in her hand before taking his hand and rising to her feet. He grabbed the letter from her hand and walked back to the secretary desk. Ammablique stood by the chairs, wringing her hands as she struggled to understand the change in his attitude that had just occurred.
“Then you are going to help me?”
“I would be disingenuous if I didn't. I gave my word to come when needed.” His eyes saddened as he looked over the page once more before refolding it and slipping it back into the envelope. He placed it back into the secret compartment, putting the key in his breast pocket when he was done. D'Inglist looked at the desk, as if he could see through the wood paneling to the letter held within. He sighed softly. “He wasn't the only one who felt he lost a brother that day.”
-
She ran down the hallway, her hands gripping handfuls of her skirts, stopping every so often to try one door or another. She came to the end, looking down to the left and then the right before looking back from where she came. She could see them at the end of the hallway, slowly walking towards her. She was out of breath, her chest heaving as she turned and ran down the hall to the right, wiping the strands of her loose hair as it stuck to her face. She tripped over her skirts, landing on the palm of her hands. She stared at the tile just inches from her face for a moment. She could hear their footsteps coming around the corner. Why did it feel as if she was somehow moving in slow motion, how could they be right at the corner when they had just been down the hall just seconds before. She yanked her skirts up, stumbling a few steps. A door opened as she passed it and she caught a glimpse of Belladolla's surprised and frightened gaze before the door was shut once more. She pulled on the knob, crying out in exasperation and fear as the door stubbornly stayed shut. She glanced back down the hallway, and turned in a small circle looking around, the passageway empty. She looked back at the door, trying the knob once more.
“Where do you think you are trying to run off to now?” The quiet voice whispered into her ear, her hair tickling her cheek as she shivered, as if ice had been run down her spin. She swallowed, closing her eyes, her lip quivering as she tried to keep the tears from flowing. She was roughly turned around, the jostling forcing her to open her eyes.
He was exceedingly good looking, he long blondish brown hair, each strand lovingly caressing his face. His mouth was a perfect mixture of plump softness and shape but it was his eyes which bothered her the most. One could melt into his eyes if they weren't so cold. Dead and icy and full of menace, his stare bore into her, forcing her to look away from him. When D'Inglist had looked at her much in the same manner earlier she had felt fear but this, she dreaded not just looking at him but also his continued examination of herself. His eyes hurt, a look that literally brought her pain, and yet, it was as if she was compelled by some unknown force to repeatedly try to make contact with them. He smiled and leaned towards her, her whole body cringing away from him as he did.
“You don't feel much like talking?” She pressed herself against the door as her tears began to flowing down her cheeks, she couldn't tell if it was the fear or the newly rising anger that brought them on. “Look at me.” she turned her eyes to him, gazing at him from the corner of her eye. “I said look at me!” He grabbed her face roughly, turning it towards him. She closed her eyes, trying to pull her face from out of his grip. He held her face even tightly, knowing soon enough he would hear the cracking of her jaw bone. She winced, whimpering softly.
She fell back, the door behind her opening suddenly. She felt the strong arms holding her up, her head slightly disoriented from falling back. Her cheeks burned as her fresh cuts began to bleed. He pushed her onto to her feet and away from him, closing the door behind him as he stepped into the hallway. She watched the door feeling utterly helpless. A small hand slipped into hers and she looked down at the frightened child standing next to her in suck obviously pained tears. She squeezed Belladolla's hand, her gaze never leaving the door.
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