The Haunted Traveler December 2017 Edition

“Darya,” Lady Mordemag said, after instructing Humphrey to continue. “My dear.
What was it that you did before you came to work for us?”
Darya’s pulse quickened.
“I-I was a governess. You saw my references.”
“I never checked them. Go on, Humphrey. Good boy. You’ll get it soon enough.”
Her voice turned sweet and soothing, and she stroked Humphrey’s hair with one thin
hand. Darya felt paralyzed. Lady Mordemag had never hinted that she doubted Darya’s
story. Had there been a visitor? A letter? Good lord, what if someone was there now?
She tried to read the answer in Lady Mordemag’s face, but the woman was only
watching her youngest son, an expression of almost childlike earnestness on her face.
When she finally turned back to Darya, her expression stiffened.
“Go on,” Lady Mordemag said. “You seem to have strong opinions on how to raise
children. Tell me about your experience.”
Darya opened her mouth but did not speak. Behind her, the grandfather clock
chimed. Evening was slowly slipping away into night.
“You worked with many families before, didn’t you?” encouraged Lady Mordemag,
her hand still absentmindedly stroking Humphrey’s hair. The boy was only half-paying
attention to the teacup now, his gaze darting nervously between his mother and Darya.
“Tell me about them.”
“What would you like to know,” Darya finally croaked.
“Tell me about the unicorns.”
Darya felt like the world dropped out beneath her. She had to catch her breath; the
corners of her vision seemed to darken, and she fought to remain alert, to not let panic
overtake her. She knew. The old world had followed her, even out to this forbidden
place. The scent of blood overwhelmed her; she seemed to no longer be in that dark,
dusty dining room on the coast of a northern, distant shore, but back in the Dim City,
kneeling on the stone ground amongst a dozen other girls with bowed heads. She could
hear the click, click of his boots as he walked among them, asking who could ride. Darya
had raised her hand, even though she could not.
Darya heard the cup rattle in the saucer, and Lady Mordemag’s gaze tore away from
her.
“Humphrey, darling!” Lady Mordemag gasped, pulling her son to her and cradling his
head to her shoulder. “Humphrey, you moved it!”
The teacup spun and rattled for a second longer, before resuming its proper place in
the saucer.
“I think I hit it with my elbow,” Humphrey said, befuddled. “I—”
“Nonsense, darling, you did it!” Lady Mordemag showered her son with kisses, and
Humphrey blushed with pride. Annabelle was staring down at her fists. “Oh, I knew you
could! I knew there’s still something in our blood yet!”
Annabelle bolted up and out of the room. Darya hesitated, then followed her. She
29