The Secrets of Winterhouse Page 11

  Freddy lifted his head and looked to the kitchen doors. “I hope they serve pie tonight.”

  The huge dining room was becoming more filled with Christmas decorations each day, and now it was glistening with ceiling streamers and green-and-red banners on the walls and huge wreaths above the windows and ornately decorated trees in all corners. The hall was alive with color and music, and the enormous fireplace crackled with a bright fire. Norbridge, however, wasn’t at dinner, and Elizabeth was becoming concerned about him.

  “Hello, you two,” someone said as Elizabeth and Freddy stood to leave Winter Hall. And there, entering from the rear doors, was Mrs. Trumble, looking as fit and pleasant as ever.

  “Mrs. Trumble!” Elizabeth called as she dashed over to her. “You’re all right!”

  They hugged tightly, and Elizabeth explained how she’d been at the candy kitchen and seen the crowd that had gathered and had heard all about the strange events.

  “I feel fine now,” Mrs. Trumble said. “I had quite a scare there, but I’m fine.”

  “Did someone really attack you?” Freddy said.

  The old woman arched her eyebrows to indicate the whole thing was a mystery to her. “I thought I heard someone in the kitchen, but when I started looking around, I didn’t see anything. Suddenly there was a flash of red, and that’s all I remember.”

  “I’m just glad you’re all right.”

  “I’m fine as can be now, and Norbridge has been looking into the incident.”

  “I haven’t even seen him since yesterday,” Elizabeth said, thinking about the red flash.

  “He needed to leave the hotel for a bit,” Mrs. Trumble said, “though he returned this afternoon. He’s been looking after his cousin Kiona, as well. She was feeling a bit under the weather. Perhaps you remember her?”

  “I do,” Elizabeth said. “She’s the one about to turn one hundred next year.”

  “You do remember. Well, as I mentioned, Norbridge is back now and wants to talk to you. He’s in the observatory.”

  “On the top floor?”

  “Yes, dear. He sent me to find you. He’d like you to come up.” She looked to Freddy. “Just the miss, young man.”

  Freddy grinned. “That’s okay, Mrs. Trumble,” he said, turning to face the kitchen doors. “More dessert for me.”

  * * *

  “I’m so glad to see you!” Elizabeth said when Norbridge opened the door to the observatory.

  “Me too,” he said, scooping her up in a tight hug. “And I’m sorry I’ve been unavailable.”

  They were in a small room on the thirteenth floor. It had very little in the way of furnishings, but it did have a huge brass telescope inside a glass-enclosed balcony extending ten feet from the building. It was on this spot that Norbridge had once shown Elizabeth a statue of Winifred set on a pedestal far across Lake Luna.

  “You saw Mrs. Trumble?” he said as the two of them sat on sofas at the center of the room, a coffee table between them.

  “She told me you wanted to see me. Have you found out who attacked her?”

  Norbridge shook his head. “Nothing yet. But how have things been with you so far?”

  Over the next ten minutes, Elizabeth caught Norbridge up on everything that had happened and everything she had learned—the passageways, the strangeness of Elana and her grandmother, her time in the library, and how she’d seen Rodney running down the corridor on the night of the attack. What she didn’t mention—because she knew Norbridge wouldn’t approve—was how she’d spied on and startled the Powters and also that she’d investigated in the candy kitchen and seen the strange inscription on the plaque.

  “I think someone knows about the secret passageways,” she said, “and they want to get in, so they broke into the candy kitchen. One of the doors is even supposed to be in your room, from what Leona said.” She hadn’t been sure how to bring this up. “Is it?”

  Norbridge drummed his fingers on the arm of the sofa. “There is a door. Absolutely.”

  “I knew it!” She tried to picture where it might be, given that she didn’t recall seeing any extra door in Norbridge’s room on those occasions when she’d visited.

  “However,” he said, “I locked and secured it years ago. The others, too. There are a few gloomy old tunnels around this place, but I felt they were a potential hazard. So—all locked.”

  “But someone wanted to get in. Maybe because there’s something else magical in there, right? Leona told me there was a story that there might be another object waiting to be found.”

  Norbridge looked to the ceiling as if to discover what to say. “I’m of the opinion,” he said, when he looked at her again, “that it’s not completely out of the question that there couldn’t be some question regarding the question of the questionable existence of the object in question.”

  Elizabeth rubbed her temples to avoid the onset of a headache. “So I might be right.”

  “Correct.”

  “I just don’t get why The Book or any special objects exist. Why did Riley Granger create these things or hide them here? You told me he had this idea that whoever found the things would have to decide if they were going to do something good or bad with them. But I just don’t get why.”

  “My theory is that Riley enjoyed creating games with Nestor. It was part of something they’d learned during their time at the temple. And, yes, if I had to guess, I’d say there’s another object or two in this hotel. I don’t think Riley stopped at The Book.”

  Elizabeth adjusted her glasses. “Do you think my parents’ death was really an accident? Maybe Gracella came looking for my mom—maybe she caused the accident.”

  Norbridge nodded. “It has crossed my mind more than a few times. That would have been a way for her to snuff out the Falls line. I’m sure if she did cause the accident, she probably thought she had killed the last of us.” He dipped his head toward Elizabeth. “Or, at least, the youngest of us.”

  “But I was the only one who could find The Book, right? So, if she had killed me, she never would have found it.” Elizabeth shook her head in confusion.

  “I think Gracella changed the whole equation when she accumulated her powers over the years. Maybe she could have found The Book on her own, but you were the surest route to it. Once she killed Winnie and her husband, Ferland—if she did—maybe her powers diminished. Then she located you and tried to use you to secure The Book. She was always hungry for more power, more knowledge.”

  “Is that why you left Winterhouse when you were younger? To learn more about magic?”

  “Someone’s been reading Marshall’s journal,” Norbridge said. “Or talking a lot with our chatty librarian.” He made a small check mark in the air with a finger.

  “I read that chapter about you leaving.”

  Norbridge sighed. “I left in part because I wanted to find Gracella, maybe convince her to change her ways. But I never found her. I did some backpacking, worked on a ranch, rode trains across the country. I suppose I was something of a hobo. And then I came back to Winterhouse.”

  “Sounds adventurous.”

  “Most of it was. But do you recall what I mentioned to you about Winnie and what she went through? When I left the hotel, I had similar questions. Also, something about Gracella’s curiosity and her interest in darker things seemed a bit intriguing to me back then.” He paused and then said, his voice low, “How much have they developed?”

  Elizabeth wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. “How much…”

  “Your powers,” Norbridge said. The room grew silent. “Can you call things up at will?”

  This was the first time he had spoken to her so directly about this—and she was glad of it. “I can, yes. Almost all the time. I’m not always totally successful, but usually.”

  Norbridge reached out and pulled a book from the small stack on the coffee table. He set it down. “Give it a try.”

  She looked at the volume: The Gloom After Midnight by Damien Crowley.

&
nbsp; “Hey, that’s the same writer whose book you gave me last year.”

  “One of my favorites. He passed away several years ago, but, boy, could he write! He used to visit us here from time to time.” He pointed to the book.

  Elizabeth brought her mind to a complete pause, allowed everything in it to become quiet as she stared at the volume. Her vision blurred as she concentrated, the flutters beginning deep inside. She kept her eyes locked on the book, and everything else in the room seemed to slide to the periphery. The book began to vibrate on the table; something inside it appeared to have stirred to life. A buzzing sound deepened in Elizabeth’s ears, and suddenly the book popped off the table right toward her, and she caught it with both hands.

  “Very nice!” Norbridge said. “That’s impressive.”

  She examined the book for a moment and then displayed it for Norbridge. “May I read it?” she said, and he gave her a go ahead dip of his chin with a little laugh.

  “Is that the extent of it?” Norbridge said.

  “Sometimes I can tell when something’s going to happen before it does or if someone is approaching or about to call me. It’s not always very clear, but it happens a lot.”

  He nodded and invited her to continue.

  “I’ve only been here a few days, but I think it’s getting stronger.” She displayed the book again. “Back in Drere, the best I could do was make a book tumble to the floor.”

  Norbridge stood. “As I say, I’m impressed. Just be sure to use it for proper ends.”

  Elizabeth felt challenged by these words; Norbridge was insisting on repeating a message. “You’ve mentioned that a few times. Are you worried about something?”

  “It’s fair to say I’m always worried about many things.” He spoke slowly. “And you’re my granddaughter, so I will always be worried about you.”

  Elizabeth glanced around the room; she knew Norbridge needed to get to work, but she chanced one last question: “Is this room just used for your observatory?”

  Norbridge stroked his beard and then tilted his head in a follow me gesture. At the end of the short hallway off the living room was a single door he unlocked with his silver key. He gave Elizabeth a curious squint, and then he pushed the door open.

  Two dimly lit standing lamps in opposite corners cast a soft glow over the carpeted room, which was dominated by the ceiling-to-floor window opposite the door. Only the black sky was visible through it at this hour. And although the enormous window was very dramatic, and the cluttered desk and the cabinets and bookshelves and two chairs at the center of the room were all cozy and inviting, what drew Elizabeth’s gaze were the walls to the left and right as she followed Norbridge inside: They were covered with shiny murals done in small blue and white tiles. There were depictions—each about three feet square, so that the walls were divided into two dozen murals apiece—of climbers on mountains, skiers on trails, snowshoers on hilltops, Winterhouse beneath the full moon, and many more. The loveliness of it left Elizabeth gaping.

  “They call this sort of decoration azulejo,” Norbridge said. “It’s a type of tilework from Spain and Portugal. Nestor fell in love with it and had this room decorated in the style.” He studied the walls approvingly. “Good call on his part.”

  “Incredible,” Elizabeth said as she looked more closely at a picture to her right. A caption beneath it read “The Tragic and Heartbreaking Death of Dominic Falls—Struck by an Icicle in His Youth.” The picture—like all, in ornate blue upon creamy white—showed a small boy beside a cliff glancing upward at a menacing row of enormous icicles.

  “My great-uncle Lambert’s son,” Norbridge said. “Poor boy was five years old. He never had a chance.” He stood shaking his head sadly for a moment before gesturing to a scene near it. “Look at this one.”

  Elizabeth studied the picture: two men—one of whom she recognized as the great scientist Albert Einstein—standing beside a blackboard covered with equations. The caption read “Milton Falls and Albert Einstein—Two Geniuses, ‘Relativity’ Speaking, in Winter Hall.” Elizabeth looked to Norbridge. “Albert Einstein came to Winterhouse?”

  “He did. And that’s a bad little pun there on the tiles. My father’s responsible for that. I tried to talk him out of it.” He pointed to a mural on the opposite wall. “There’s one you’ll like.”

  Elizabeth examined the picture, which showed a young girl in a thick parka standing atop a snowy peak. “The Youngest Person to Make an Ascent of Mount Arbaza—The Intrepid and Fearless Winifred Falls, Eleven Years Old,” read the caption beneath.

  “My mother climbed that mountain when she was eleven?” Elizabeth said. She felt a surge of pride and admiration inside.

  “Not only did she climb that mountain!” Norbridge said, lifting a finger and raising his voice. “At the summit she removed three bars of Kendal Mint Cake from her pack and offered them to her fellow expeditioners. We were astonished. And we polished off that candy in three minutes flat. I’ll never forget it.” He took a deep breath. “I had that picture made—and a few more in here. All of these depictions show a famous scene from Winterhouse’s storied past.” He gestured to an empty section of the wall. “Whoever takes over after I’m gone will continue.”

  “I’d love to spend time looking at all of these,” Elizabeth said. Not only were the pictures stunning, but they were the stories of her own family.

  Norbridge glanced at the walls slowly; he looked like a man in a museum sorting through his feelings for the works before him. “Nestor started this. He was subject to what is known as horror vacui. That is, ‘fear of empty spaces,’ and it led him to decorate these walls. Then Nathaniel carried on the tradition, and I followed.” He paused. “This is my office. First Nestor’s, then my father’s, now mine.” He looked to her. “You’re the fifth person to ever enter this room.”

  Elizabeth felt a chill through her. “Who was the fourth?” she said.

  “Winnie. I assumed she would take over someday.”

  The chill Elizabeth felt deepened. There was something important occurring, though this visit had been so clearly unplanned Elizabeth didn’t know what to make of it. All she could imagine was that Norbridge, on impulse, had wanted to share the magic of the room with her. Anything more than that was too much to consider, at least for now.

  “It’s an incredible room,” she said. “I hope to see it again someday.”

  “I’m sure you will.” He tilted his head toward the door. “I’m very sorry, but duty calls. I’ll need to see you out.”

  When they stepped back into the living room, Norbridge gave a glance at The Gloom After Midnight. “Don’t forget your book,” he said as he hugged Elizabeth. “And maybe you want to go give Leona a hand closing up for the night.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “For everything.”

  Ten minutes later, book in hand, Elizabeth arrived at the library, prepared to enjoy a visit with Leona. But as she reached for the door handle, she heard loud and angry voices within.

  CHAPTER 18

  A SINISTER DISCOVERY STRIDES

  “We absolutely close in ten minutes, and everyone must be out by then,” Leona was saying. “I apologize if that doesn’t fit your schedule, but that is how we run things.” She was speaking in her “firm” voice, and Elizabeth wondered to whom she was talking—and then she entered the library and saw Leona was almost nose to nose with Rodney Powter.

  “But I just got here an hour ago,” he said, his voice harsh. “I want to stay for a while.”

  “You are very welcome to return first thing in the morning and remain the entire day, if you choose,” Leona said. “But in ten minutes, these doors are closing and you will be on the other side of them.”

  Rodney was about to speak when he saw Elizabeth.

  “Oh, and Book Girl is here now, too,” he said. “I bet she gets to stay in here all night if she wants.” He lifted a hand, more of a challenge than a wave. “Hello, Book Girl!”

  “Young man,” Leona said, “
you are being disrespectful, and I must ask you to leave.”

  “I thought you said I had ten more minutes!”

  “That was half a minute ago. Now you have been discourteous, and the library closes for you right now. If you don’t leave immediately, I will speak to the management, and you and your family will be escorted from the hotel. I’m sure your parents will be very happy about that.”

  Rodney stood tall and straight. “You can’t do that!” he said in an ugly tone.

  “Just try me,” Leona said. She glanced at her watch. “Forty-five seconds and counting.”

  Rodney glared at Elizabeth, and then he turned back to Leona. He looked about as frustrated and angry as a person could be.

  “I’ll be back in the morning,” he said.

  “You’ll be welcome,” Leona said. “But if you’re at all ill-mannered…” With this, she made a slicing motion across her throat that almost made Elizabeth laugh. She had never seen Leona like this before.

  Rodney glared at Elizabeth again.

  “What are you looking at?” he said.

  “I think the clock is still ticking,” Elizabeth said.

  “Fifteen seconds,” Leona said.

  And with that, Rodney spun on his heels and stalked out of the library, scowling at Elizabeth as he went.

  Leona stood looking after him, shaking her head.

  “Incredible,” she said softly. “Sometimes I worry about the generation that’s going to take over this world.”

  “It’s his parents,” Elizabeth said. “They’re just like he is.”

  “Still, that is hands down the most uncouth young man I have ever had the misfortune to encounter in this exquisite library of ours.”

  Elizabeth looked to Leona. “Don’t give offense, don’t take offense.”

  Leona turned to her. “You’re learning,” she said after a moment’s pause.

  “Why was he so dead set on staying here?”

  Leona shook her head. “Something’s going on with him that I can’t figure out. He’s been in here the last hour-plus, just wandering around.”