Based on the notes of Alice Fay Athenida.
A month into autumn had left the vibrant town under a carpet of orange and red leaves. Part of the old buildings had made way to a busy financial and empresarial district crowned by the Alabaster Building of Athenida Industries.
Not much of the city could be seen from the tower at Thorncliffe House. Only the top of these grandiose buildings, crowned by glass and steel. Everything else, hidden by the enormous estructure of the the Fort. I called it "the Fort", because father always referred to it as such. To most of my peers, it was simply the school. Actually, all three schools of the town were held inside the vast structure. Seemed simpler than to built more weird things around the small town.
Two figures came through the small road, I recognised both of them as school friends. But, as I turned away from the window and went to the door, noticed there was no door to open.
"Can you hear me?" My sister's voice came from the ether and I remembered this was not reality, but a memory. "I think it worked. Now, I need of you to look around."
I did. My bedroom hadn't change from what I could remember. And then I realised this was because I remembered it this way.
Light-blue walls on which you could write with chalk. White furniture, and a collection of toys, a desk, and a computer. Painted stars on the walls and ceiling. I walked around, and noticed things that I didn't remember there.
A glass ball, with red and white roses floating inside. I know that piece, but not from that point in my life. It was in my mother's office at the Castle, back in 1858, and it broke around the turn of the century. Another. A painting my sister made for me, but which would not arrive at the house until the end of winter. And, most glaring of all, my mirror, which had broken in-between my travels through time.
"I see some things that are wrong." I spoke, not sure to what, so I turned to the mirror. "What do I do?"
"Remember what was in those places. Often memories mix themselves, and this helps to order things."
I looked again at the ball. It became fuzzy, and then disappeared. In its place, the small portable chess board my father gift me when I turned ten. I looked at the piece. Unlike common chess sets in the twenty-first century, it had white and red chess pieces, instead of black and white.
"It worked!"
"Good. Now keep doing it, until you fix everything."
So, I did. After a couple minutes, the bedroom seemed normal. And, as soon as I finished, everything turned black.
I found myself, again, back in the red room of the museum. Now, it looked clean, without mental clutter. Most important of all, the site had open doors, which allowed me to retrace the path we made through the place and into the different rooms. Now I understood why she did that hurried tour around the place, showing me everything.
Around me the place began to take form. Corridors, and exhibitions, and lamps, and curtains, and...everything. The place began to look like it was during our visit.
"I think that's it", I said after a while, looking around.
"Good. Now, close your eyes and picture yourself back in my study." My sister's voice sounded out of focus, as if it came from a badly adjusted radio.
Followed that instruction, and soon I found myself sitting in the middle of the room. Victorie had moved the pictures to a corner, inside a drying rack. Still, signs of something like a tornado appeared to have been deployed inside the room. Most thing were pushed to the sides, and left me alone in the middle.
The sun outside the windows had begun to set. Victorie explained I was in my "mind attic", as she called it, for a couple hours. Not just minutes. Enough time to finish her project. My sister sat in front of a tilted table. A large roll of paper on top of it. She had sketched plans of the museum, and filled the brims with notes and annotations.
"I think I got everything", she said when I approached. Talked while walking towards the stairs. "Come, our guest will come in a few minutes, and we have a lot to plan."
"What exactly are you planning?"
She stopped and turned to face me. Her eyes glowed yellow. Reptilian.
"Against father's wishes, we're gonna steal something from the British Museum."
I followed her quickly, almost tripping with the bottom of my dress.
"Steal!?"
"Well, steal might be a harsh word. But, since my own partner has no problem in using the bulk of the Council's powers to retrieve things that they think are dangerous, I don't see why we couldn't do the same."
Not the most sounding logic, but good enough for me. After all, if we succeeded, it would help me a lot with my goal of gathering artefacts by myself. If we failed...well, father would be angrier than that time he lost the deed of Sutton Place in a card game, but will pay more attention to my sister and her friend.
The doorbell rang, as we came back to the ground floor. The young man from the antiques store stood there. He dressed better than his work clothes, but still simpler than anyone from our crusty upper class.
"Victorie, Alice. Thank you for inviting me," he said, walking in.
"Mr. Lestrange, nice to see you. I think we need to talk." My sister pointed to the dining room. "Here, please."
Comments (0)
See all