Page 2 of The Demon's Discovery
“I look forward to our next meeting, Mr. Feland,” Henrik said as he escorted me toward the double doors of the den. “We appreciate you taking on this search.”
I didn’t want to give any kind of reply I’d later regret, so I simply tipped my head and walked down the long main hall toward the front door, plotting my next visit with the book I hoped held a way to cure me.
Chapter 1
Greta
June
Lightning flashed brutally through the gray sky, striking a tree close enough I could smell the heated ozone. Spatters of rain woke me from a brief nap, the peals of rolling thunder and fierce lightning that chased after them made my heart race.
I’d come out to the hedge maze to enjoy the last hour of the evening sun after helping with the dinner preparations. Yet another prospective job had fallen through thanks to a series of truly unfortunate events involving me breaking several wineglasses during my trial meeting, so clearing my head had been much needed. Unfortunately, I’d only gotten halfway through before exhaustion had forced me to sit… and that had ended in an unexpected nap.
Something dark flashed along the edge of my vision, and I spun to find the cause. It wasn’t unheard of for creatures of one nature or another to find their way into the hedge, but what I’d seen was too tall to be anything other than human.
“Hello?”
The only response was more thunder and the wind blowing through the tangled branches of the hedge in an eerie howl that was so much like laughter it made my skin crawl. Another bright flash of lightning lit up the sky, illuminating the whole center of the hedge maze. Deciding perhaps my imagination was running a little wild because of my badly timed nap, I tried to stand and fell instead, one leg still tingly from how I’d been lying.
My rear end hit the grass, and I managed to scrape my shoulder along the rough edge of the concrete bench as I went. I watched in awe as the wide trunk split in half, branches crashing to the ground as fire consumed the tree from the inside out. Bark hissed and popped while black-and-orange embers drifted down to the ground. As the rain became heavy, fat drops, I was shocked out of staring and scrambled to get to my feet, to clean up the failed experiment I’d left in progress on my worktable.
Thunder clapped loud enough to leave my ears ringing, and I jumped, the instinct to duck unavoidable. My hand bumped a vial of ammonium, sending a splash of it careening into another dish. Tiny splatters of acid hit my skin, making me hiss as they stung and burned. The combination also caused a plume of acrid smoke, which no amount of waving could disperse before it absorbed into my clothing and clung to my skin.
“Wonderful,” I grumbled, using one of the old cast-off kitchen towels to wipe at my stinging hand before I mopped up the rest of the mess. I dipped the smoldering linen in the fountain just in case, then left it to hang off one of the stones.
All of my chemistry equipment went into a small strongbox which I then shoved under the worn table. It wasn’t much, but it was functional, and nobody bothered my things out here. Inclement weather aside, it was a serviceable arrangement. Nothing like the old shed I’d taken over at the country house, but I made do.
My worktable was tucked into a far corner at the center of a hedge maze. Situated in the middle were several benches around a wide fountain that featured water cascading over several boulders and a statue of an angel, his broad sword raised to the sky and feathered wings fanned out wide as he climbed to the top. I loved lying on the bench in front of him, staring up into his ethereal face. I pretended he was protecting me, serving up justice on my behalf, and I talked to him as I worked through my experiments and tests. He alone knew all my darkest secrets, most paralyzing fears, and greatest hopes. I napped at his feet often, which is what I’d been doing when the rain arrived.
The maze was mine, perhaps the only thing in the Belettes’ Revalia house that truly belonged to me. If I could, I’d stay out here all the time, much like I did in my shed. Besides, my employers were entertaining someone, and I had to keep myself out of the way and unseen.
I yawned and started to make my way out of the maze, hopeful the rain and the dense scent of night jasmine that crept along the walls would disguise the sour smoke still lingering on my clothes.
Once out of the hedges, I crossed through the open yard and past several vegetable patches to the back door of the kitchen. I pulled open the servant’s door, getting a vague acknowledgement from the cooks who were banking down the oven fires and preparing to do the clean up as I slipped my shoes off and left them on the rug.
“Do you need any help?” I asked, absently rubbing at an ache in my left shoulder as I went to the sink. Soap and cool water removed the rest of the chemicals from my hands, soothing the burn.
“No, you’ve done enough for today, Greta. Go on and get changed.” Caroline saw what I was doing and craned her neck.“Did you burn yourself? Again?” She tutted, pulling a tin out of the cabinet. “Let me see.”
“Changed?” I asked as she smeared a heavy ointment over my hand.
She looked up at me, eyebrows drawn together. “You’ve gotten yourself good again, haven’t you? Yes, changed.” She put the tin back and scrubbed her hands on her apron. “Did Beatrice not tell you?”
“It’s not that bad.” My heart thumped behind my ribs. “No, I haven’t seen Bea since this morning.”
Caroline heaved a frustrated sigh, marching me toward the kitchen door. “She was to tell you Henrik requested your presence in his den. You’re going to be late if you don’t hurry, and you’re half drowned.”
“Henrik? What about?”
“I have no idea but take this.” She shoved a chunk of bread stuffed with meat and cheese into the pocket of my skirt. “You’ll need to eat. Saints know they won’t have planned for your dinner.”
The head cook shooed me with a flip of her dish towel. Caroline had been in this kitchen as long as I could remember and always offered me kindness. She was one of the best teachers I’d ever had, though I was still a dismal cook and only half-decent baker.
“Thank you.”
Anxiety made me sweat as I walked quickly down the hall outside the warm kitchen. I had my head down, eyes on the worn planks of the wooden floor as I worked at the knot in my shoulder. I was so consumed with worry about what my employer wanted to discuss that I wasn’t paying attention.
As the hall ended into the foyer, I accidentally caught the shoulder of a man as he stepped onto the rug ahead of me. I’d turned the corner sharply, expecting the path to the stairs to beempty. As we collided, his wineglass tipped, splashing me down the front.
