The Mesmerist(34)

I find myself standing on the endless shore of a vast ocean, with white waves breaking against a cliff face of jagged black rock.

Far in the distance, a mountain looms tall and majestic, its peak wreathed in scarlet clouds. The white sand under my feet is fine, yet I can see each and every grain, sparkling like diamonds. Far away, I hear tinkling bells and am compelled to follow.

I reach down and pick up a handful of sand, then let it fall through my fingers.

The bells are louder now, and another curious sound joins them. It is a song, sung in a clear, high voice, one that I have heard before.



“The smile upon her bonnie cheek

Was sweeter than the bee;

Her voice excelled the birdie’s song

Upon the birchen tree.”





It is Father’s song.

I feel myself drifting, although I am standing still. The tide pools around my bare feet. I look up, out onto the ocean. A small ship with a silver sail rocks on the water. My heart aches.

“Jess,” I hear a voice call. “Jessamine.”

I open my eyes. Balthazar stands before me. “That is all, he says. “You can go no further.”

My head is foggy. “It was beautiful,” I whisper.

“Yes. Beautiful beyond words.”

“Is that your home?”

“Of a sort. The realm of Faerie is in the mind, as much as it is all around us.”

I truly do not understand.

“Tell me more,” I demand. “The silver ship. What was it? Where was it going?”

Balthazar smiles, and it is a sad smile. “I cannot show you more, dear one. For once mere humans glimpse the white shores of Faerie, they often go mad with desire. Let’s leave it at that, shall we?” He takes my hand. “Sleep now, Jess. Our work is not yet done.”

And then he leaves the room, his boots clicking on the floor.





CHAPTER SIXTEEN





A Message Revealed


The image of the silver ship has stayed with me and brings such a sad, melancholy longing when I think of it. But at the same time, it feels joyful. It is truly a conundrum.

Late this afternoon I find Emily and Gabriel in the parlor playing a game of jackstraws. Dust motes filter through the windows, and a halo of light surrounds Gabriel’s head. They look up as I enter.

“You all right, then?” Gabriel asks.

I feel a wave of embarrassment and absently reach up to touch my face. “Y-yes,” I stutter. “Much improved.” I try to smile, but I am not convinced that it looks genuine. Now that I am feeling better, other thoughts have returned. Come to us, Jessamine. Come, darkling.

Gabriel spills the thin sticks onto the floor, creating a toppled forest. Each player must take a turn and remove the sticks one by one. Whoever picks up the most without upsetting the pile wins. I find it troubling that they are playing a childhood game when the world outside is full of ghouls and necromancers.

I walk out and into the back garden. To my surprise, Balthazar is here, sitting on a stone bench. A Roman bust, covered in ivy, lies broken among the high weeds. The air is cold, and I immediately want to rush back inside, but instead I take a seat next to him.

“Ah,” he says, distractedly. “How are you feeling?”

“Rather well,” I tell him. And it is true. My scratch is now only a faint red line. A battle scar, just like Jess the Pirate Girl. I sniffle a little at the memory of that childhood silliness. Now I have seen things that would send a strong man into madness.

Balthazar’s gaze seems to drift over my face, not focusing on me. He looks at my hands. Does he expect them to be as sharp as razors? Covered in hair?

“Any dreams?” he inquires, raising his head. “Anything . . . unusual?”

“No,” I answer, but recall my visions of the white mist and the terrible sound. “Why do you ask?” I’m growing concerned. “Do you think I’m going to—”

“I just want to be certain,” he says mysteriously.

“Certain? Of what?”

He reaches out and touches the scar. I do not draw back, for there is nothing threatening or impolite about it. Right at that moment, Gabriel and Emily appear.

“Having a party and you didn’t invite us?” Emily asks.

Neither Balthazar nor I answer.

“Gabbyshins cheats at jackstraws,” she complains. “I had to quit.” With her elbows, she nudges Gabriel, who only shakes his head.

Emily seems so childlike, but then I remember how she scratched the ghoul’s back with her white-hot fingernails, and the thought vanishes.

Balthazar stands up suddenly. “Right, then,” he says. “You’re all here.” He pauses. “I have been called away. There is a matter I must attend to, and it cannot go unbidden.”

I am taken aback.

“This I must stress,” he says, looking at the three of us. “Do not attempt to reach out to Mephisto on your own. Do you understand?”

Emily gives a sour look. Gabriel is silent. But I will not be. “So we’re just supposed to sit here and wait for you? There could be an attack. Who knows what might happen?”

Balthazar kneels by the bench and takes my hand in his. “Jessamine. I implore you to wait for my return.” He says this with an air of authority that I cannot ignore.