| |
The first thing I saw in the morning when I awoke was the little wooden unicorn. Picking it up, I took a better look. It was smooth, and a rich dark color. The details were intricate. I almost believed the eyes would blink, or that I could feel its breath out of its tiny nose on my finger tip. Whoever had carved this had great skill. It must have cost a pretty penny. On the bottom was written something in hangul. I recognized it to mean "have faith." There was no other note with it.
When I went down for breakfast, I was surprised and delighted to see that Edward and James had arrived overnight. No one had mentioned that they were coming.
"Are you really here?" I rushed to embrace them. I quickly realized the risk of turning into a watering pot. How I had missed them the month I was here.
"It really is us," James grinned, leading me to sit down with him.
Edward was in the parlor talking with Aunt Pen, and Mr. Throckmorten. Why was he here so early anyway?
"How has Aunt Pen been treating you?" James looked concerned.
"Aunt Pen has been trying, and she means well," I assured James.
"I really wish you hadn't agreed to come, even for my sake."
"It was for Edward too. I hadn't been aware that he was carrying such a heavy burden. This is nothing if I can lighten it for him." I smoothed my light green skirts over my knees.
"Oh, Mouse, why do you put everyone else first?" James muttered as he ruffled my hair.
"Hey!" I laughed, swatting at his hands.
"Good morning, Elizabeth, Pendry," Mr. Throckmorten said coming into the room.
"Throckmorten." James returned the greeting.
"What brings you here this early, Mr. Throckmorten?" I inquired serenely as he winced over his name.
"I imagine the same thing as your brothers," Mr. Throckmorten replied. "Do call me Nathan, Elizabeth, I thought we had an understanding."
James looked at me and raised an eyebrow and mouthed, “As in an attachment with him?”
I creased my brow and gave a small shake of my head.
Speaking, this time, James said, “Have you seen the recent happenings in the paper?"
I wasn't sure if he was asking me or Mr. Throckmorten.
"Indeed," Mr. Throckmorten said. "As soon as I saw the news, I instructed Mrs. Pendry to keep Elizabeth indoors until the culprit desists."
Until the culprit desists? What an odd word choice. Wouldn’t you want the culprit caught? I wondered what had happened. It had to have been big for my brothers to have come.
"Edward and I headed here as soon as word came from—” James stopped abruptly.
"What word? From whom?" I pressed.
"We received the news that there had been two murders in London, and we decided to come here at once to take you home," Edward answered as he joined us.
"Why yes, she must go home,” Aunt Pen said. Harriet followed behind her with a tray of breakfast foods.
"I'd like to stay here, I'm certain I'm safe here with—” I protested. George and Mr. Hodge had just come to London, and I was being sent away? The injustice of it didn't seem fair.
"I would very much appreciate it if you took Elizabeth home with you," Mr. Throckmorten said, mistaking my protest for my wanting to stay with him.
Aunt Pen smiled gratefully at him.
I really did try hard to not roll my eyes.
"James, let's go meet with the Marquis. We'll leave first thing tomorrow morning. Is that enough time to pack, Mouse?" Edward asked, and I nodded.
They had only left when Mr. Throckmorten turned to me, his eyes dark and thunderous.
"Do not roll your eyes, dearest, it's unbecoming," Mr. Throckmorten said.
"On second thought, even though George is here, I'm probably much safer back home," I replied as dignified as I could. I took my leave then. To my relief, Mr. Throckmorten did not stay long, and I was informed that he had some pressing business to attend to.
***
Later in the afternoon I was sitting in the parlor, which in Aunt Pen's London apartment serves also as a music room with a small upright spinet in the corner, looking at my unicorn when Mr. Hodge came calling. I put my unicorn in my pocket and stood to greet him. I was surprised it was just him, but he explained that George was busy on the East End. Mr. Hodge had some ties with the Chinese workers there, and they wanted to check up on them. Some of the men's sons had gone missing recently, and two of them had been found dead, a faint scar on their abdomens. An autopsy had been requested, and so far, no cause of death was found, yet, neither man had their livers.
"What?!" I gasped. "How is that possible?" Even I knew you needed your liver to live. I suspected too that you needed everything that God gave you inside your body to live as well. I mean, the dead have no heartbeat, so without your heart, you can't live.
"That's what we are trying to find out. The doctor that did the autopsy wanted to start an inquest, as he cannot believe what he saw. Since we could not have that, we had to have him forget. So George has gone to find the killer. I think you know what this means." Mr. Hodge said. "It is about time you knew the whole of it."
"I can't believe it," I pulled out the unicorn, and muttered, "Have faith? Faith in what?"
"Oh, I see you have George's unicorn."
"This?"
"Yes, he was carving it the day you guys went to the museum. I have not seen him working so furiously before. He's a really good craftsman," Mr. Hodge said with pride.
"It was on my desk that night when I went to bed."
"He's fast too," Mr. Hodge said. "As a gumiho, he has, how shall I put it, magic within him. He can travel faster than any horse. Even faster than a steam tram."
I felt my jaw dropping open. "You mean you were serious? I mean, about him being a gumiho?"
Mr. Hodge nodded. "George is tied by blood to a mythical world. Come, let us take a walk away from prying ears."
We walked for a while in the garden in silence. George had said the very same thing to me. Mr. Hodge had even said he had married a gumiho. I hadn’t wanted to believe that part of the story because it terrified me.
“Do all mythological creatures exist?” I asked.
“Some do, some used to be, and some do not exist,” Mr. Hodge said.
“How do you know which ones are not real? I mean, like werewolves? Are those real?”
“Werewolves do not exist, despite what lore that is out there.”
“But how do you know?” I persisted.
“Because dear girl, think about it. A human was, and always will be a human. A bird is always a bird. Being bitten by something doesn't make it into something else. We are what we are,” Mr. Hodge replied.
“It is good to know some things still make sense,” I said. But what did that make George?
***
That night I asked George if he could travel faster than a steam tram. Of course, one cannot travel faster than a steam engine. The steam tram had made a nine mile trip in Wales carrying people and ten tons of supplies in two hours. In two hours!
"I'll show you," he said.
He had me stand on the opposite side of the room. Then in a blink of an eye, he had me pinned against the wall, his nose to my nose. I could feel his breath on my face.
"Oh," I whispered, "that is fast." I wondered if he heard my heart beating, as it raced in my chest.
"Now, head to your room.”
I did, and as I entered George was sitting at my desk. In his hand was my little unicorn.
"Now back to the library," he said softly. When I got there, he was already there, and my unicorn was still in his hand.
"I need to sit down," I said, barely making it to a chair. To say I was in shock was an understatement.
"You look like you need some fresh air. Let's go for a walk, and I will explain what I can." George helped me gather my things. "As we leave, rub the dragon I gave you. You will feel it warm up. It will give a brief flash of light and start to glow. Only you will see it glow, as it was gifted to you. While it is glowing, you are safe from prying eyes and ears. You can walk about the street and no one will remember seeing you. They do see you, though, but they will immediately not remember. In a room, it will also encourage people to stay away."
"Oh my, it's like a ticket to freedom. I could go anywhere. And you only now tell me?"
"I am truly sorry. I did not want to scare you away with too much too fast. I wasn’t sure what you thought about my being half mythological.”
“It is a lot to handle,” I whispered.
“Do be careful when you use its magic, Elizabeth. It will only glow for an hour before it requires a recharge time of an hour."
"All right. So we have an hour to talk."
***
Pendington
It was good to be home. With leaving London, I had left behind the Hodges, Aunt Pen, and Mr. Throckmorten. On one hand I was relieved. I was free from the humiliating singing lessons, the constant critiquing of Aunt Pen, and Mr. Throckmorten. It would also allow me time to sort through my swirling emotions and questions. On the other hand, I wanted to see George and missed him terribly. That I still felt that way, and could no longer deny his heritage was a bit frightening.
I was finding the days long and lonely without George visiting. My thoughts went to him constantly. I thought of the murder victims, and their missing livers. Was there another gumiho? That something that horrifying had happened caused bile to rise to my mouth. I mustn't think of that.
I turned my thoughts back to George. Every time I saw my desk, I would think of him sitting at the desk in London, when he had sat there for a few seconds, holding my unicorn.
***
August arrived, and with it my birthday. I was disappointed when George didn't come, but Mr. Hodge came with a letter and small parcel from him. It was a little ceramic jewelry box. It was made of white porcelain, with an indigo blue serpentine dragon painted on it, and tiny purple lotus flowers. Inside was a letter.
"George wrote to me using hangul I think," I said to Mr. Hodge later that evening after rubbing my dragon for privacy. "Do you know what he wrote?"
"My reading isn't good as it used to be, it seems to say Happy Birthday," Mr. Hodge said pointing to the English words.
"This part here." I tapped the hangul.
"Oh, that part. Well, let me see ... this here is naui aleumdaun. And this here is naui yeong-wonhi sarang," Mr. Hodge answered.
"What does it mean though?"
"It's a happy birthday letter.”
"Yes, we have already established that Mr. Hodge."
"Ah yes, we did," Mr. Hodge replied cheerfully.
"You aren't going to tell me are you?" I said putting the letter back into the jewelry box.
"It says, 'My beautiful Elizabeth, Happy Birthday—you'll have to ask George himself what the last part says."
"Can you understand it, though?"
"I can, and I think those words will be best coming from George himself. You won't have to wait long. Now, how have you been handling all this magical news?"
"It is hard to say for certain. Some days are definitely easier than others.”
“It’s harder when you can’t dismiss the unbelievable parts isn’t it?” Mr. Hodge said. “I thought I was going mad when I kissed the painting.”
“How did you manage to deal with it?”
“I came to love the woman, deeply. Magic or not. The rest didn’t matter, I only wanted what was best for her and for our son.”
“I wish George was here,” I said.
Mr. Hodge smiled. “I know.”
***
One evening James was bouncing around in the library as if he was fencing. "Now, I know it is not the most feminine of sports, but would you like to spar with me?"
I laughed as I opened the window. "What?"
"Come on! It'll get your mind off of things," James persisted.
"You're bored and unhappy, Mouse," Edward added.
"I am not bored,” I snapped. I immediately was contrite. "I'm sorry, Edward, I shouldn't have yelled at you. I am not bored. As for my happiness, I do not know. I miss ... him." I could tell Edward wanted to ask me for more details, but before he was able to, our butler announced the arrival of Mr. Throckmorten.
"I think I just might, James," I said. "I might find use of the skill."
"What might we find of use?" Mr. Throckmorten said in greeting as he took my hand. I tried to pull it away, but he only held on harder. It hurt, it actually hurt! "Elizabeth," he breathed as his kissed my mangled hand. Once he released it I put it behind my back.
"China painting. I'm going to take up learning to paint those intricate designs on cups and plates before they are fired, in those fire boxes. What are those called?" I looked to my brothers for help.
"I believe you mean a kiln," Mr. Throckmorten answered instead.
"Yes, a kiln." I really wished my brothers would say something. Kick this man out. Yet they seemed to be just standing there, with their jaws on the floor.
It was if they were caught in some sorcerer's spell. Edward broke free first.
"It's nice of you to visit us, to what do we owe the ... uh ... pleasure of your company, Throckmorten?" Edward said, coming forward and moving me to a seat next to him and the wall. Thank goodness.
"After you had departed London I suddenly found myself feeling alone. Imagine, feeling alone is a bustling city!" Mr. Throckmorten purred. "And do, please call me Nathan. I am not here on business, and there is no need to be so formal. Is there, Elizabeth?"
I did not like the way he said my name like he was caressing me. I stammered a response, but whatever it was I couldn't say, as I could not get a clear thought. James and Edward were watching me oddly.
"Him?" James mouthed. I started to shake my head, but Mr. Throckmorten interrupted me by talking and drawing everyone's attention. He prattled on too, about the events that had transpired in London. He mentioned, and I started paying attention better, or rather, the fog in my brain cleared a bit when he said the words East End and murders increasing.
"I am sure the local authorities will be right on top of it."
"Are they sure it's the same killer?" I asked. I wanted to ask if they had their livers, but I dared not.
"This is not a conversation to have in front a lady," Edward said, "James, will you take our sister up to her room and have Alice bring her some hot chocolate? I'm sorry Throck—I mean Nathan, but just before you arrived, my sister had mentioned feeling a bit unwell. I am sure you will understand she is not up for visiting this afternoon."
"Of course. I pray you will make a swift recovery, Elizabeth. I do believe chamomile tea is better for sleep," Mr. Throckmorten told me as looked me over. "You do look a little pallid."
"I don't like tea," I said to deaf ears. "Hot chocolate would be lovely. Thank you, Edward."
"Now Nathan, might I interest you in a game of whist?" Edward was saying as James and I left.