16
Supper was exactly the same as it was last night… only it wasn’t.
The first thing Melody noticed was that everything was off. Off in ways that didn’t occur to her immediately, but as the night progressed she began to see them. The further she opened her eyes, the more she saw. And the more she saw, the more it alarmed her.
They filed into the dining hall, plopping into the same seats they’d taken the night before. The room was lit by candles again, the other guests still dressed up in their eighteenth century costumes and outfits as if they’d never get sick of their little daily charade. Melody wondered if they actually paid to be here, or maybe were paid to be here… some sort of bizarre throwback roleplay fantasy that only the very rich and very eccentric could ever afford.
It would certainly explain their lackluster performance tonight.
Lurch took his seat at the opposite end of the table, looking glum and silent and eerie. Anabelle sat across from her again, only this time without her daughter. Her face was ashen, her entire expression forlorn. In fact, the more she looked around…
“Everyone here is so miserable,” she whispered to Eric. “Why aren’t these people happy? Do they work here? It’s almost like they have to—”
She stopped dead as the man they were calling Colonel Mustard limped into view. He wore the same coat as last night, only now it looked dull and washed out instead of fresh and crisp. The gilt on his buttons was no longer shiny. The epaulets on his shoulders, frayed.
But then Melody saw the wooden crutch. And beyond that…
“Oh my God! What happened to your leg?!”
The Colonel glanced up at her, but only for a split second. In that short span of time, he shot Melody a scathing look.
The Colonel’s leg was missing below the knee!
How is that even possible?
She didn’t know. Couldn’t know.
It wasn’t like that yesterday… was it?
She paused to think about it for a moment. The Colonel’s legs had spent most of the night under the table, hadn’t they? It wasn’t like she was looking at them. She supposed that much was true…
But no, wait! Then he’d danced! He’d danced his way out of the dining hall, and by then he’d had two legs, right? Melody closed her eyes. Tried to remember. Yes, she knew he did! Knew it as well as she knew her own two legs….
“H—How did… How did you…”
The Colonel sat down with the help of the head of the table, who was apparently back yet again. The middle-aged man seemed even older, if not wiser, but his voice was the same as he raised his glass high.
“The Lady of the House will not be joining us tonight,” he said glumly. “She is unfortunately unwell, but sends her best regards.”
Melody’s mouth dropped open. She wasn’t sure if she was more pissed at missing Lady Neveux again, or more shocked by the man’s repeat performance.
“This isn’t right,” she told Eric. “Maybe she’s avoiding us. Maybe she knows we want—”
“Shhh…”
Eric shushed her as the food was brought out. There was much less of it than before. The platters were no longer silver, either. They were made of wood.
“What’s going on?” she asked the young man sitting next to her. “What’s with—”
That’s when she noticed him: Lucus. He’d been seated at the table the whole time, down near the far end. He was staring at Eric. Even worse, Eric was staring back.
“Why is the blacksmith here?” Eric asked in a low, almost ominous tone. “Why isn’t he back at the carriage house?”
It took a moment for Melody to realize he wasn’t talking to her. He was asking the middle-aged man — the one at the head of the table. But the man was ignoring him. Ignoring him while spooning out a big ladle of soup.
Minutes passed. Eventually the two of them broke eye contact. Eric ate ravenously, from many different plates, but she could tell the food wasn’t as good as it was the night before. Melody on the other hand, hardly touched anything. She was too busy scanning the guests, listening to them talk. Trying to figure out if any of them knew anything, or might unintentionally reveal something important to her.
The Colonel was arguing with the banker now. The two became embroiled in some bitter debate that ended when the banker threw down his napkin and left early. Melody noticed as he left that his suit wasn’t nearly as fancy this time around. In fact—
“This is all wrong,” she told Eric. “For some reason they changed it.”
“Changed what?” her companion asked around a mouthful of dry potatoes.
“They changed everything,” she said. “All of it. Just look around.”
Eric didn’t appear to be in the mood for looking around. He kept eating.
“See the fork you’re using?” Melody pointed. “That fork was silver yesterday. Real silverware with china plates. Today all the utensils are iron, and the plates are ceramic. Even the silken napkins are gone.”
Her companion shrugged. At the opposite end of the table however, Lucus looked on. Watching. Listening.
“The wine definitely isn’t as good,” Melody went on. “It’s watered down. And all the finer finishes are gone. Look at the walls. Half the paintings are missing, like they were sold off.”
Eric picked at his vegetables. There were a lot of vegetables, now that she thought about it. There was hardly any meat on the table at all.
“Doesn’t this all seem strange to you?” she asked.
“This whole place is strange,” shrugged Eric. “Why are you surprised?”
“Because these aren’t just inconsistencies,” Melody said. “They’re intentionally different.” She nodded in the direction of the Colonel. “Look at this guy. He’s missing his leg Eric! His leg! And his uniform is different. He’s got two more medals pinned to his chest than he did yesterday.”
Eric looked unsure of what to do. He dropped his fork.
“How do you know all this stuff?” he pleaded with her. “I mean, how do you see it?”
“I look,” Melody snorted. “Just like you should be looking. Hell, you and I should both be looking. For the you-know-what…”
Her voice trailed off. Other people were watching them now, taking their conversation almost as an argument. Melody lowered her voice, glad she’d stopped short of mentioning the egg.
“Listen,” she hissed after a while. “We don’t have much time. Tonight’s the night. This is it for us, if we’re ever going to—”
He spun around to face her, taking her hands in his. Melody looked up apprehensively, but Eric’s face had softened.
“Alright, I get it,” he said. “You want to search the bedrooms.”
She nodded almost imperceptibly, shifting her eyes left and right. He was talking just a little too loudly for her tastes.
“Fine” Eric said. “Slip out of here. I’ll wait a few minutes and be right behind you.”
Melody rose, finally grateful to be doing something. Lucus’s eyes followed her as she did. He was the only one at the table who seemed to even notice her. Even so, it was somehow reassuring just knowing he was there.
She exited into the hallway, hoping he might follow. She wanted to talk to him some more. The blacksmith seemed somehow different from the rest of the guests. More concrete, more real. Less ‘checked out’ in ways that—
The sound of footfalls from the opposite direction ushered her toward the stairs. Melody took them two at a time, holding her dress up as she went, then ducked into an alcove at the top of the landing. Someone passed through the foyer, but she couldn’t see who. Once the sun went down, the whole manor was just too dimly lit.
No wonder why everyone goes to bed so early, she thought. This place is gloomy at night.
She took the opposite hallway from the one where their own rooms were located. It was as good a place to start as any. The first two doors were locked, but the third opened into a small bedchamber with three separate beds pushed into the corners. Two of them were covered in mosquito netting.
Melody stepped inside. Instantly her nose wrinkled from some kind of sour, acrid smell.
“It smells like sweat and old socks,” she whispered to herself. It was an old trick she’d used as a child; talking to herself to calm her nerves. “The air practically tastes like it!”
She searched the room quickly and efficiently, being careful not to touch the bedding itself. The linens were dirty, and stained with colors that made her look away. The drawers of the single dresser had nothing in them. The chamberpot was also thankfully empty.
Creeping quietly, she made her way to the next room. And the next after that. The third room had an unlocked trunk that provided a few moments of excitement for her. Inside however, she found only clothes and belts and shoes. All period. All worn down and well-used, almost to the point of failure.
Eventually she heard noises from downstairs. Dinner was breaking up. Eric would sneak up here and join her when he could, and that would help things along. But for now…
For now she had to be careful.
The fourth bedroom had no beds. Inside, Melody found a fantastic spinning wheel and a single chair. She was still examining the worn piece of history when she heard voices, then footsteps coming down the hall.
Hide!
The only problem was there was no place to hide. For lack of anything else, she crouched down behind the spinning wheel. It concealed her miserably. Even a child could find her like this.
Lady Neveux, her mind registered. If you want to find the egg, you need to find her! The rest of these rooms are bullshit.
Melody sat quietly for a few minutes, just listening, running her hand admiringly over the smooth surface of the wheel. Eventually the noises stopped. The hallway went silent again.
You have to—
The door to the room opened. Her heart caught in her throat…