Our laughter mingled in the bright morning light.
“It seems a shame,” I murmured, pointing to the bustling activity across the lawn. Footmen now hung scalloped floral bowers and ribboned pennants.
“What do you mean?”
“The sky was so red this morning. Can’t you feel the storm coming?” Toward the west, a pile of dark blue clouds gathered, massing together.
“Bad weather would never dare to thwart any plans of Dauphine Laurent,” Alex said, but I did notice he gave the clouds a second glance, chewing his lip thoughtfully.
“I hadn’t realized the lake was so vast,” I said, filling the silence as he rowed. “Is it fed by a spring? It doesn’t look as though any streams run into it.”
“You’ve a sharp eye. It’s actually stagnant, man-made. There used to be a lake farther up along the northern ridge of the estate but my great-grandfather had it diverted…after some adjustments to the landscape here.”
“He moved an entire lake?” It was incomprehensible to me. “Why?”
Again, he smiled. “You’ll see…Look!” he exclaimed, pointing behind me.
Arina’s statue, the giant hand pointing into the fiery heart, rose out of the water like a breaching whale. It was made of pale gray stone, with veins of gold snaking through it, giving the flames a realistic flicker.
“The shrine,” I said in wonder. The statue loomed over us but yards away, I saw a small slip of land, resting so low to the water, I’d not noticed it before. “It’s an island!”
Marble bouquets of flowers stood watch at each corner of the platform. Their stony ribbons trailed down and across the border, creating a whimsical railing.
“This is the shrine?” I asked as I squinted at the little slab. Frederick stood at the dock, already waiting for us. This had been an expertly planned operation.
Alex drew the rowboat along the back side of the island, throwing a line of rope to Frederick, who tied it off before holding out his hand to help pull me from the dinghy.
I wandered about the platform as Frederick helped Alexander from the boat. Large circles of green glass were curiously pressed into the pale tiles. There were ten altogether, dotting the island like confetti, and I wondered what importance they had for the People of the Petals.
I leaned out over one of the ribbon railings as far as I dared. Through the dark green water, I spotted the faint curved lines of the structure that held Arina’s burning heart in place.
“How deep is the lake?”
“Quite. Are you wanting to go for a swim?” Alex asked, smiling mischievously. He was standing upright, leaning heavily against Frederick, no wheelchair in sight. I’d never given thought to how tall he would be without the chair, but he loomed over me, even propped at such an awkward angle.
“If you throw me in, your mother will never forgive you.”
“I wouldn’t dare!”
“I was only wondering why the statue was built so far off the island? Surely it would have been easier to use this as a base?”
“Come, I want to show you something.”
With impressive effort, Frederick picked him up and ferried Alex over to where a staircase spiraled down into an area beneath the island.
“What is that?” I asked. It was too dark to make anything out.
Alex laughed. “So many questions! I promise, I will show you everything. Unfortunately, this is one of the few places at Chauntilalie without a lift or ramp, though Father does keep a chair here for me. And thankfully, we have Frederick.”
He went first, carrying Alex down the narrow, metal steps. After a last look around the platform, I followed after them. Reaching the bottom, I was amazed to see a large secret room open up. Skylights were used to brighten the space—the same ten large circles I’d noticed earlier.
“How ingenious!” I murmured, looking up through the windows.
Potted palms were placed about with care, trying to camouflage bulky support columns. In the center of the room was a gaming table. Four tufted wingback chairs nestled around it, ready for an evening of cards. Paintings of horse hunts and moody florals hung framed on a gallery wall. In the far corner was a mahogany bar, stocked with dozens of glass bottles and decanters. Cigar smoke lingered in the air, giving the room a decidedly masculine feel.
“Where are we?”
Alex, now back in a chair, rolled over, joining me. It was more compact than the wicker chair he normally used.
“One of Father’s little hideaways. In the warm months, after dinner parties, he entertains guests here.”
I pictured a party of men, playing cards and drinking brandy as curls of smoke and boisterous laughter filled the air. The unusual singularity of the room was enough to make up for the faint whiff of mildew and the damp chill of the air.
Frederick cleared his throat, as if reminding us of his presence.
“Yes, of course. That will be all, thank you, Frederick,” Alex murmured. “We’ll see you soon.”
The manservant turned back up the staircase, disappearing to the top side.
“Where is he going?”
“He’s taking the boat back. I mentioned the storm while on the roof. We’ll take a different way home.”
“A different way?” I repeated. We were underground, on an island, in the middle of a lake. What other way home could there be?
“I’ll show you,” he said, and wheeled around to a doorway at the back of the room.
It was shaped like a tall teardrop and led down a tunnel molded in the same shape. I caught a glimmer of light at its end but the rest of the passageway was dark with shadows.
“Go on,” Alex prompted.
I hesitated. How far underwater were we? The tunnel didn’t appear to be too long, but it definitely headed away from the island, taking us deeper into the lake.
“Are we allowed to be down here?” I stalled and my voice bounced back and forth against the white stucco walls. “Is it safe?”
Alexander practically danced with excitement in his chair. “Go on, go on!”
The tunnel was too narrow for us to roam down side by side. I wished Alexander would have taken the lead, but he gently urged me to the front. I moved cautiously, fearful of catching my ankle on an unseen dip in the cement floor. My eyes quickly adjusted to the dark, making whatever lit the end of the tunnel unspeakably bright.
When we reached the end, I stopped so abruptly, Alex bumped into me. With a laugh, he nudged me forward.
“Oh my,” I gasped, turning in a slow circle to take everything in.
We were impossibly underwater, in the center of a great glass dome entirely submerged beneath the lake. Hundreds of curved windowpanes rose from the floor to the ceiling’s crest, nearly two stories above us. Thick plaster and metal bands held them together, with a little rosette centered at each joining. Sunlight filtered through the water and into the dome, casting an algae-tinted glow. Raised flowerbeds lined the round walls, with an incredible assortment of blooms and greenery. A thick wool rug rested in the middle of the floor, patterned in florals of midnight blue and ivory.
“What is this place?” I whispered, not wanting to break the magic of the moment. I’d never seen anything more enchanting in my entire life.
“Great-Grandfather used it as a music room and dance hall. He actually had an entire grand piano brought in, piece by piece, and assembled here, for parties.”