Marisol didn’t explain until both girls were done eating the delicious meal she set down before them—plates full of rice, sautéed vegetables, and chopped herbs, topped by fried eggs.
“Now that I’ve fed you,” she began, sitting in the chair across from Iris, “it’s time for me to tell you why Avalon Bluff is the way it is, so you can also know how to respond.”
“Respond?” Iris asked with a hint of worry.
“To the sirens, and what they foretell,” Marisol said, tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear. A small red jewel in her lobe caught the light. “There are three different sirens, and they can sound at any time. No matter where you are in Avalon, whether it’s the infirmary or the grocer or in the street, you need to always be prepared for them and respond accordingly.
“If a siren wails continuously during the night, you have exactly three minutes to extinguish all light, cover all windows, and lock yourself indoors before the hounds arrive.”
“Hounds?” Attie echoed with a frown. “I thought they were just a myth.”
“Not at all,” Marisol replied. “I’ve never seen one, because I haven’t dared to look out the window when they stalk the night, but a neighbor of mine caught a glimpse once and said the hounds are about the size of a wolf. They destroy anything in their path that lives.”
“Have they ever killed someone here?” Iris asked. She remembered the myth her enigmatic correspondent had sent, about Dacre searching for Enva. How he had called up his hounds from the realm below.
“No,” Marisol replied, but there was a trace of sadness in her tone. “But a flock of sheep was lost once, as well as some other livestock. You will most likely be here with me at night—Avalon has a curfew, because of this … situation. Everyone is to be safely home by sunset. So if you are woken by this siren, make sure all candles are extinguished and lights are turned off instantly, cover your windows, and then come to my room. All right?”
Both Iris and Attie nodded.
“The second siren I want to tell you about,” Marisol continued, “is the one that wails continuously during the day. If you hear that one, you have exactly two minutes to take cover before the eithrals arrive. They’re wyverns, and Dacre uses them to carry bombs in their talons, which they will drop on anything that they see that moves below. If you are inside, then cover the windows and sit quietly until they pass by. If you happen to be out of doors when they fill the skies, then you must do what feels unthinkable—lie down exactly where you are and not move until they are gone. Do you both understand me?”
The girls nodded in unison once again.
“Is that why the train doesn’t travel by day around here?” Iris asked. “We noticed that it stopped and delayed its course until nightfall at a certain point in the journey.”
“Yes, that’s exactly why,” Marisol said. “The train has a better chance of outrunning the hounds at night than stopping in time if an eithral is spotted. And if the railway is bombed, it would be catastrophic for us. Which leads me to the third and last siren you may hear—the one that wails intermittently at any time. Day or night. We have yet to hear this one in Avalon Bluff, but with each day that passes, it becomes more and more of a possibility that we must prepare for.
“If you hear this siren, you need to evacuate to the east, immediately. It means that our soldiers on the western front lines are retreating and have given up ground and cannot defend us here. It means that the enemy is coming and will most likely take the town. I’ll prepare dash-packs for you both, which I’ll hang in the pantry for you to grab and run with. There’ll be a matchbook, a flask of water, tins of beans, and other nonperishable items packed inside. Enough to hopefully last you to the next town.
“Now, I know this is more than you signed up for, and your heads must be swimming, but do you have any questions for me?”
Attie and Iris were silent for a full ten seconds. But then Attie cleared her throat and asked, “The sirens … where do they come from?”
“A town a few kilometers west of here, called Clover Hill. They have a great vantage point and a siren that once rang for foul weather and they agreed to alert us the moment they perceived any hounds or eithrals or enemy soldiers.” Marisol began to gather up their empty plates. Iris noticed a slim golden band was on her left ring finger. She was married, then, although she had made no mention of a spouse. It seemed as if she lived alone here. “And it’s late. Nearly midnight. Let me take you both upstairs. You can choose your rooms and then get a good night’s sleep.”
As long as a siren doesn’t sound, Iris thought, and a spark of dread arced through her. She hoped it wouldn’t happen, and then that it would, so she could go ahead and get the fright of experiencing one out of the way.
“Can we help you clean, Marisol?” Attie asked, rising from her chair.
“Not tonight,” she replied. “I have a policy. Guests on their first night aren’t expected to do anything but enjoy themselves. But tomorrow will be different. Breakfast will be at eight sharp, and then you both can help me prepare a meal to take to the infirmary, to feed the wounded soldiers. I thought it would be a good way for you to begin your research. Some of the soldiers won’t want to talk about what they’ve seen and experienced, but others will.”
“We’ll be ready,” Attie said, gathering her bags.
Iris reached for her leather bag, thoughts of Dacre running wild in her mind as she followed Marisol and Attie down the hall and up the stairs. Marisol carried a rushlight with her, the flame burning across multiple mirrors on the wall. She explained how most residents in Avalon Bluff had decided to forgo electricity—which was unapologetically bright and could be spotted from a distance—in the night and appoint themselves with candles that could be easily blown out in case of a hound or intermittent siren.
“Now,” Marisol said when they reached the second floor, “this is the door to my room. There are four others, all empty and very charming. Choose whichever one speaks to you.”
Attie stepped into one, Iris another. It felt like a crime to flip on the light switch after learning about the sirens.
The room Iris chose was decorated in shades of green. It had two windows that overlooked the back of the house, with a bed in one corner, a wardrobe carved into the wall that was similar to Iris’s closet back home, and a desk, perfect for writing at.
“This room is one of my favorites,” Marisol said from the threshold. “And you can use electricity, if you want. Or the candle.”
“The candle will be fine,” Iris said, just as Attie appeared.
“I want the room across from this one,” she said. “It’s red and suits me.”
“Wonderful!” Marisol said, beaming. “I’ll see you both in the morning. Spare blankets and towels are in the wardrobe there, if you need them. Oh, and the lavatory is down the hall.”
“Thank you, Marisol,” Iris whispered.
“Of course. Sleep well, my friend,” Marisol said gently, just before she shut the door.
{18}
A Bloody Long Shot
Iris tried to fall asleep that night, in the cool darkness of her new room. But eventually, she became restless. The sorrow and guilt of her mother’s death was climbing up her bones again, and she had no choice but to light her candle with a gasp.