Arrival of the Traveler (Waldgrave Book 1) (8 page)

“No more!” She interjected. “Howard, she’s in a sensitive state.”

Behind Ava, Ralston rolled her eyes again, and Lena wondered how dramatically her new mother was overstating her condition.

“But I have questions! I want to look around—“ She insisted.

“You need to rest.” Ava insisted with equal fervor. “You’ll need lots of rest after what happened. You can look around tomorrow. For today, just stick to the books.”

Not wanting to upset her new teacher, Lena chose not to fight it. She finished her meal as quickly as she could before excusing herself and going up to the library.

There were more than new books to interest her. There were whole new bookcases that had materialized. New objects—relics, of some sort. The furniture looked different than it had before. There was even a new window, through which the greenhouse could be seen. She started to look at an object that appeared to be a guitar turned inside out; it had once been a bright red color, but the paint was peeling, revealing the wood grain beneath. She wanted very dearly to pick it up and see what it sounded like, but it looked too old to put up with too much handling. Lena yawned; Ava was right that she wasn’t going to have a very active day.

She went to one of the new bookcases, grabbed three books, and then went back to her room. She set them on the nightstand while she showered and then put her pajamas back on. Sitting on the bed, Lena studied the hardback volumes more closely. Two of them were oversized and very thick, while the third was the size of an average paperback; the covers were entirely bare. She picked up the small brown one first, opening it cautiously. She expected answers—who she was, or what she was. Maybe a history of how people like David and her mother came to be, or what they were really capable of. She expected what most people would expect from a book: pages filled with writing on a particular subject, be it science, history, or fiction. What she got was an empty book.

Blank pages, all of them. Lena’s mouth fell open in confusion and surprise as she flipped the pages front to back, and then back to front. It was completely bare. The first large book, a dull yellow one, contained nothing as well. Lena furrowed her brow. Something was going on here, and she desperately needed to know what. Her own curiosity would kill her if she didn’t find out. Her mother’s words at breakfast came floating back into her mind…

Maybe I’m just not ready to see these things…

She gingerly checked the last book before taking them all back to the library. This time, she took more care in selecting her reading material. She spent an hour flipping through empty books before she found one, a pocket-sized blue book, that actually had a title written on the inside cover, but nothing else…

Raised by Humans: A Case Study of Seven Silenti

“Silenti?”

To her astonishment, Lena watched the author of the book materialize in front of her eyes. She didn’t exactly see it, though. She had blinked, and what hadn’t been there before suddenly was.

By Dacian Lecrois

She turned the page. A single sentence faced her boldly from the first page. Lena sat down on a chair. In all her years of travel, this was the most astonishing thing she had ever seen.

Although it is doubtless that this unfortunate scenario has occurred countless times throughout history, little is yet known about the processes by which these individuals

The sentence ended there.

“But that doesn’t make any sense… ‘these individuals’ what?”

Down the page, several more random letters popped onto the page. Two whole words, “with” and “and” appeared amidst the jumble, about two inches apart.

Well, that’s helpful.

She flipped through the pages again. While most were still bare, some now contained similar alphabet soup. There were about a dozen complete words, and one more island of communication:

Chapter 5: Gregory Mason of Sydney

If she had tried a little harder, she might have realized why the book was so forthcoming of this particular information; approximately ten years earlier, when she and her father had first taken up traveling, they had stayed almost a full week at Mr. Mason’s house. Sadly though, Lena had forgotten Mr. Mason, and wouldn’t start remembering him for three more months. Lena sighed as she watched a handful of new letters appear below this title.

It’s going to be a long, long day.

She went back to the bookcase, spent another hour finding books that had promising first words or letters written in them, and then took them back to her room. It was an annoying progression. She kept reading straight through lunch, which she skipped for not being hungry, and only got half a chapter’s worth (not all from the same chapter, though) out of her first book; reading random words and short phrases over and over again, watching for new words, and rereading everything over, because every time she read something new, a few more letters and words appeared. Reading, and rereading, and getting so little back every time. It was maddening. She finally fell asleep, and was woken only a short while later when someone knocked at her door.

Lena rolled off of the bed and shuffled to the door. David was wearing heavier clothes and the jacket Lena had borrowed before.

“What?” She asked.

“How have you been?” He didn’t look concerned, so Lena decided to lie and try not to think too loudly.

“Oh, I’m fine. Just catching up on some reading.” She turned around and tried to casually walk back over to her stack of books, but a sharp pain in her side as she turned caused her to lose her balance, grab her stomach, and almost fall over. She regained her poise just in time and kept walking; when she turned back around David was smirking, leaning against the door frame.

“So I see. You’re just fine.” He looked very smug with himself, and Lena wondered if he was somehow proud of putting her in such a state. “How’s the reading?”

“Slow.” Lena sat back down on the bed.

“How much have you gotten through?”

“I don’t know—maybe a quarter of the little one. I checked a little while ago though, and some of the other ones are starting to…develop? Would that be the right word?”

“Develop is a fine word. Just fine. You’re just great at picking words.”

“Shove it.”

David laughed a little.

“I just wish the process wasn’t so slow. It takes forever…” Lena was suddenly struck by an idea. “You don’t think you could…read 
to
 me, could you?”

He frowned. “That’s not a good idea.”

“Why?”

“Why can’t you just accept what’s best for you?” David crossed his arms.

“Why can’t you let me decide what’s best for me?”

David strode into the room and looked through Lena’s selection of books before picking one.

“Here you go—this should answer some of your burning questions.” He had an impish expression on his face as he cleared his throat and started to read, “ ‘Of all the creatures most feared…’”

“Stop!” Lena was already nauseated. She sat down on the edge of her bed and glared at David, who continued to smile.

“See? I told you.” He tossed the book onto the bed next to her. The title of the book—
Unseen Danger
—had appeared as David had read. He turned to go, but stopped in the doorway.

“Oh, I’m supposed to ask if you’re well enough to come down for dinner.”

“Yes.” 
No
.

“I’ll have Mrs. Ralston bring something up, then.”

Think you’re so clever, don’t you?

David smirked. He pulled something out of his jacket pocket. It was a small paper bag, which he threw back in Lena’s direction. She dodged it, and it landed deftly on the bed. She picked it up to throw back at him, but quickly realized he’d been throwing it to her, and not at her. There was something in the bag.

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” The door clicked shut.

In amazement, Lena opened the bag. There was a small box inside, and inside the box was a bracelet—it was made of a silvery metal, though Lena didn’t know exactly which one. A pattern of leaves and branches made up the band, and a single ruby-red flower hid the clasp. It looked expensive.

He must’ve spent a year’s worth of salary on this thing!

Deciding she couldn’t keep it, she gently put it back in the box. While she was touched that David had bothered to get her a get well present, she couldn’t accept something that would have cost him so much. She sat looking at the open box, which she set on the nightstand. She liked the way it looked. It was delicate, and pretty. It reminded her of somewhere she had been before.

It was mid-June, and she and her father had stopped in Yorkshire to admire the blooming roses. The hostel they’d stayed in had climbing roses; some came right up to their second story window. She remembered the old man who took care of the roses, and the way he whistled lullabies when he watered the flowers. They’d watched the beautiful, deep red blossoms slowly open over the course of a week, remarking everyday how perfect they were. She remembered the look in her father’s eyes as they shared the glory of nature’s wonder—those roses, so delicate, and yet so dangerous. The thorns were sharp, he warned, so they had to watch and not touch. Being only eight at the time, she wanted desperately to take one with her; something to remember the experience by. One particularly warm morning, she had reached out the open window and grasped one, intending to pull it free of the bush and hide it in her suitcase; when she pulled, her fisted hand had slid up the stem to the blossom, the thorns lacerating her palm as it went. Her father had so gently bandaged her, chastising her for not listening. He held her when she cried because it hurt, and told her it would be okay. Most children in this situation might develop a fear or dislike of roses—but not Aaron’s daughter. Even afterwards, they watched the flowers bloom, and he let it be a lesson in respecting boundaries.

Lena wished she could have kept the bracelet, anyway.

There was another knock at the door. Before Lena could answer it, her mother had already opened the door and come in, carrying a plate of food. Lena sighed; did all parents just instinctually do this? She’d continually had the knock-and-wait-for-answer conversation with her father. It appeared her mother would need it as well.

“Do you mind?”

“Mind what?” Ava asked naively.

“You didn’t wait for an answer after knocking.” Lena went back to her bed.

“I’m sorry. I figured you were sick and I didn’t want you getting up to answer it. I am your mother, after all.”

“Yeah. I guess we’ll have to work on that, won’t we?” Their eyes met and a little smile crossed Ava’s face. As she went to set the tray down on the nightstand, the bracelet caught her eye.

“Well, that’s pretty.”

“Yeah. It’s a pity I’ll have to give it back.”

Ava looked confused. “To who?”

“David. He gave it to me as a get well present, but I can’t keep it. He spent way too much.” Ava looked somewhat uneasy, and yet a little proud; her daughter had received a very nice gift. Lena picked up a sandwich half off the plate. It was cut across, not down the middle, as Mrs. Ralston usually did. Lena realized her mother had made her dinner herself.

“Thanks for bringing me dinner.” She said suddenly.

“You’re my daughter. And you’re welcome.” Ava paused and sat down next to Lena. “We need to talk about David. I know that you two have been getting close to one another but—“

“It’s not like that. I promise.” Lena put the sandwich back down. She had already had the birds and bees discussion from her father, and would do anything to keep that discomfort from happening a second time. “I already know what you’re going to say. Dad told me all about it, and believe me, that’s not what’s happening.”

Ava smiled. “That’s not the talk that I was going to have with you, but good to know. Good to know. I’d like to tell you some things about David, because he’s not really who you think he is.” Ava stopped and stared at Lena, who stared back, until she figured out what was going on.

Lena sat up straighter. “Oh! Okay… Who is David?”

“Nope, try again.”

“Um…What is David?”

“More specific.” Ava made herself more comfortable. Lena thought hard.

“Is David really a yard boy? He said something about being an apprentice.”