Ruthless Vows (Letters of Enchantment, #2)(39)

Lonnie was setting breakfast down on the table. He looked up expectantly and said, “Oh, there you are, Miss Winnow. Glad to see you look well rested. Is Mr. Bexley with you?”

“Did you feel that?” Iris breathed. “That rumbling in the ground?”

Both Lonnie and Attie froze. The seconds stretched on, tense and silent, but there was nothing odd about them. The floor did not shake again, nor did the pattern of clinks return.

“I’m sorry,” Iris said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I must have imagined it. I stayed up late last night writing, and—”

“No,” Attie gently interrupted her. “I sensed something peculiar last night too. It was faint, but the floor was shuddering.”

The girls looked at Lonnie. He was an older farmer, one who had lived his entire life in Bitteryne. His wife had died years before, and his two grown sons and their three daughters were all fighting in the war for Enva’s cause. Iris and Attie were currently staying in his granddaughters’ rooms because Lonnie had decided the best thing to do with a suddenly empty house was to rent the rooms and help the cause as much as he could.

“You didn’t imagine it,” he said. “For the past week now, we’ve felt the rumblings throughout the town.”

“What could be causing them?” Iris asked.

Lonnie sighed. “None of us know. This is a peaceful valley. We’ve never encountered anything like ground shakes before. Honestly, it’s very noticeable some days, and others not so much. But don’t you two worry about it! I’m sure it’s nothing to fret about. Here, help yourself to the bacon and scones. I’m sorry to say I don’t have any eggs today. I sent them west to Hawk Shire, for the army.”

“Thank you, Mr. Fielding,” Attie said. “This is more than enough for us.”

“Yes, thank you.” Iris smiled, but her stomach churned as she sat down. She met Attie’s gaze from across the table. She was thinking about the myth she had just sent with Tobias. A myth full of winding tunnels, deep in the ground.

This is a test to ensure the strike bars E and R are in good working condition.

ERERERERER EEEEEE RRRRRRRRRRRRR

RERERERERERE REEEEEEE?





* * *



Test confirmed and easily passed. (Although I thought we had agreed that I was to write first, Elizabeth.) Regardless, you are quite lucky that you found me in a quiet moment. This rain has delayed the move to our next destination.

—R.

Dear R.,

I’m writing to gain your insight on a strange matter. Last night, I sensed something odd. There was a clinking in the floor beneath me, followed by rumbles, like thunder. My host says that this has been happening in town for a week now, and none of them can explain it. But I sense that it may be something sinister, and I don’t even know why I’m telling you all of this save for my fervent hope that you may have an answer or advice?

Yours,

E.

Dear E.,

I’m afraid I don’t have an answer at the ready but give me a day. I may be able to find one for you.

In the meantime, remain on guard.

I’ll write soon.

Yours,

R.

The rain continued to fall hard the following day, turning Bitteryne’s streets into creek beds. Iris and Attie spent the afternoon going door-to-door, gathering reports and stories from the townspeople. But there wasn’t much new information to glean. Rumors swirled that Dacre had finally left Avalon Bluff and was now stationed in a town called Merrow. Why was he taking his time moving eastward? What was he waiting for?

Iris didn’t know, although she sensed Roman might. She was anxious, waiting for his reply, but as the afternoon waned into a stormy eventide, he had yet to write.

She decided to sit in the dining room with Attie and work after dinner. They spread their notes out on the table, sharing a pitcher of chilled cider while a fire crackled in the stone hearth. Iris was halfway through with her article when she realized that Attie had gone still, her gaze fixated on the back door.

“What is it?” Iris asked. “Is it the ground again?”

“No, it’s Bexley,” Attie replied. “He said he would be back by now.”

Iris was quiet, listening as the rain continued to pour through the night.

“I’m sure it’s just the storm slowing him down,” she said, but she was anxious about Tobias driving through such weather. “And it’s only evening. He may still arrive tonight.”

Attie sighed and resumed her typing, but her words seemed to come slower. Her eyes continued to dart to the back door, as if she expected it to swing open any moment.

The hours melted. The storm only grew stronger.

The electricity flickered and eventually went out. Iris and Attie worked by firelight, bidding Lonnie Fielding goodnight when he ensured they had everything they needed.

But when midnight struck, the girls finally packed up their typewriters and notes, returning to their rooms.

Tobias Bexley had failed to return.





{16}

Nine Lives




Iris woke to a clap of thunder.

She opened her eyes to the darkness, uncertain where she was. Her heart was pounding as she sat forward, lightning illuminating her surroundings with an impatient flash.

You’re in Bitteryne, she told herself. Everything is fine. It was just the storm that woke you.