Hey! Chapter 15 is up and ready to be torn apart by you wonderful readers. Thanks to Zan, Meadow, Staples, Livinginfantasy and AnnaGraham.
Chapter 15 – The Rocker in the Rocker
Inspirational Song: Trouble with Dreams by the Eels
Just as the fortune teller had predicted, it started to rain. Ivory and I huddled up in our jackets underneath the showers and scurried down the street to get out of the wetness, Fiona trotting behind us. The inn that Gertie - the kind woman who’d crafted our new spiffy clothes - had told us to go to was just around the bend.
I could see why she’d said we wouldn’t miss it. The place was a giant, looming manor – house, much like the one I’d seen earlier today. The way that the rain streamed down all of the frosty windows made it look like the inn was weeping. That, plus the fact that the majority of the people on the streets tried to keep their distance from it, made me think the place was haunted. Munchie shivered inside my pocket. Nonetheless, we walked over to the dark inn to get out of the rain.
“The Rocker…” I read the faded white letters above the entrance as we approached the doors. Behind Ivory, Fiona whined.
Ivory stroked her mane and looked up at the inn with a guarded expression. “Fiona doesn’t like it here.”
I rolled my eyes. Fiona, Fiona. But I tried not to be outwardly annoyed. “Well, she’s not alone; Munchie doesn’t seem to be too fond of it, either. But where else are we gonna go?”
“We could always find another inn.”
“In this weather?” I said, pointing at the angry sky pouring down rain. “Not to mention a kingdom of this size.”
She deliberated, then nodded reluctantly. Before I could say anything else, the door of the inn swung open, startling us both.
A bony woman appeared, glaring at us with beady black eyes. She reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t place my finger on who…
“No animals in the Rocker’s!” she barked, angry lines forming on the pale skin of her forehead.
“Technically, we’re not in the Rocker’s,” I replied. It was the wrong thing to say; her eyes narrowed into slits, boring into mine in a way that gave me the impression she was trying to make me burst into flames.
“No animals in the Rocker’s!” She glowered at us once more, and then slammed the door in our faces.
“Golly, what a lovely woman,” Ivory muttered.
“Come on. We’d better find a place for Fiona,” I said.
We headed out onto the streets and asked the scurrying kingdom folk where we could find a nearby stable house. A nice man told us there was a place called Rent-A-Stable around the corner. We followed his directions and came across the red barn that stood between a cigar house and a sweet shop. We quickly rushed over to it and rented a stable for the price of two gold coins. Normally, Ivory told me, Fiona preferred to be outdoors, but since it was raining, the horse reluctantly conceded to a stable. A claustrophobic horse, as Ivory had explained to me earlier. Bizarre.
We went back to the Rocker’s, cold and wet from the rain. The angry woman from earlier allowed us to enter this time. Ivory gave me a meaningful look before we went inside. “She said no animals at the Rocker’s. I think that applies to hamsters, too.”
“Do you see a hamster on me?” I asked, and then winked at her. She rolled her eyes.
I followed Ivory into the gloomy inn. The air was very brisk inside; I could see my breath. It was just as dark and colorless on the inside as it was on the outside, just like a faded painting. I could tell no one had stayed here in a while, due to the creaky floors and cobwebs in the corners. Though it was decrepit, it was elegant. There was a grand flight of stairs in front of us, with two more flights of stairs at the top, leading to the west and east wings. Hanging from the high ceiling was a fancy crystal chandelier. But it was dull, having lost all its sparkle over the years.
I felt as though this place might have been lively and vibrant once. Images of men and women twirling around the spacious floor in colorful ball gowns and tails came to mind. The images faded as quickly as they came, leaving the space of the inn empty and somber.
The creepiest part was that the noise of the city, the sounds of the carriages moving on the brick roads, even the platter of the rain falling on the ground and rolling off the rooftops, ceased as soon as the doors closed behind us. All was dead silent, save for the footsteps of the woman rushing to the check in stand in the corner. Ivory and I exchanged wary looks and followed her.
The woman walked around the counter and pulled out a giant, dusty book from behind it. She placed it on the countertop and opened it halfway through, placing a pair of wide rimmed spectacles on her nose. She looked down at the yellowed pages and grabbed the feather pen at the corner of the desk.
“Names,” she demanded.
“Ivory and Clover,” I answered.
“You want two rooms or a single for the both of you?”
“Uh, how much do they cost?”
“Five gold coins per night, per room.”
“Five gold coins a room? That means we’d be spending ten gold coins a night,” I mumbled. The pouch of gold in my pocket suddenly felt very light. If Ivory and I shared a room, it would knock off five gold coins. But I imagined how awkward that would be, especially if there was just one bed…
“Ivory, uh, it would be a lot cheaper if we, er, shared a room,” I said. The expression on her face remained unchanged.
“As long as there are two beds,” she said in a professional manner that I admired.
“One room, two beds, please,” I said to the woman. She scribbled our names down in the book.
“Hodgins will give you your keys and show you where your rooms are,” she said. Then, at the very top of her lungs, she screeched, “HODGINS!”
Ivory and I winced at the sound of her shrill voice. A few moments later, we heard footsteps coming from a higher level up. We lifted our heads up and saw a man who looked to be in his late twenties rushing down the stairs. He was a little too well dressed for somebody who worked in an inn like this one. He was wearing a grey velvet topcoat with a ruffly lavender chemise underneath, black trousers and shiny buckled shoes. His dirty blond hair was perfectly combed and parted, as well.
“Guests?! Do we have guests?!” he asked frantically. The minute he laid eyes on us, his face lit up. “We do have guests!”
He ran up to us faster than a bolt of lightning and shook each of our hands in a tizzy, beaming. “Welcome to the Rocker’s! Welcome, welcome, welcome!”
He was still pumping Ivory’s hand as he spoke the words. She pulled her hand free of his tight grip, somewhat annoyed. “Thanks.”
Her irritated response didn’t puncture his good mood, if he even noticed at all. “I am Hodgins, the inn keeper. I can’t tell you how happy I am to have you at the Rocker’s.”
“Well, that’s nice,” Ivory muttered. “Can we have our key, please?”
“Absolutely!” Hodgins gleamed. He hurried around the counter and opened up two cabinet doors, revealing a large wall full of rows of glimmering golden keys. The contrast between their shine and the dinginess of the wall was more obvious than a horse with six legs. I took it he liked to clean the keys on a daily basis.
“Wilma, what rooms will our fabulous guests be staying in today?” Hodgins asked the woman.
“Just one room. Number three on the first floor,” Wilma said.
“Wilma!” Hodgins exclaimed, making Ivory and me flinch back. “Is that any way to treat our dear guests?”
Wilma rolled her eyes. Hodgins shook his head and grabbed a golden key off the very top row.
He turned back around with a smile so big it made the skin around his eyes wrinkle. “I apologize for Wilma’s behavior. You’ll be staying in room sixty-four on the third floor.”
“That’s more expensive!” Wilma cried, but Hodgins shushed her. “Not for these special guests. I’ll escort you there myself, dear friends. Come along.”
He began walking towards the stairs, but not before giving Wilma a stern look. She glared at him. Ivory and I shrugged and followed him up the stairs.
“I don’t think they get guests too often,” I whispered to Ivory when Hodgins was out of earshot. She nodded in agreement.
Hodgins chattered away with us happily as he led us up the stairs. “The Rocker’s is one of the oldest inns in all of Benjamin.”
“Really?” Ivory said, feigning fascination.
“Indeed,” he replied merrily, not catching the obvious note of sarcasm in her tone. “It has stood proud and tall since the birth of King Edward I.”
“How many King Edwards have there been?” I wondered.
“The kingdom of Benjamin is currently under the rule of King Edward IV, a great ruler,” he said proudly, but then his bright smile faded. “Lately, however, he hasn’t been in a good state.”
“What do you mean?”
“King Edward’s son, Prince Alejandro, disappeared nearly two years ago.”
My ears perked up. I listened more carefully to what he had to say next.
“He’s been quite sad these last few years. The queen passed away shortly after the prince was born, so he’s been very lonely as well. Not to mention the fact that he’s getting older, and the heir to the throne isn’t here to take his place,” Hodgins shook his head sadly. “A stressful predicament, indeed.”
It was a stressful predicament. I looked at Ivory and knew she was thinking the same thing as me: Alejandro had better find a way to turn Carmen back into a human as soon as possible. He needed to get his butt back here and solve this problem.
We ascended up the next flight of stairs and walked along the eastern hallway. The thick carpet we walked on was packed with dust. Particles sailed up into the air with each step we took. Hodgins took us through a large mahogany door at the end of the hallway, which led into another dark corridor with huge doors on either wall.
“So,” Ivory said. “Why’s this place called the Rocker’s?”
“Hmm? What was that?” Hodgins said, pretending to inspect the surroundings.
“I said why’s this place called the Rocker’s?”
“I’m sorry; I’m unable to hear you, young miss. You’ll have to stop mumbling in the future,” Hodgins said, continuing down the hallway.
Ivory looked up at me with questioning eyes. It was obvious that he’d deliberately avoided answering the question. I shrugged. Ivory let it go and moved forward.
There was an old man dusting off some old paintings on the walls. If this was the guy who was in charge of cleaning the place, I had to hand it to him: he did a horrible job, considering all the dust.
“Ah, Gretchen!” Hodgins hollered, approaching the man. “Look! We have guests!”
The man named Gretchen looked at us vaguely, then went back to cleaning the paintings.
“He isn’t much of a talker,” Hodgins explained to us. “Come along!”
We followed Hodgins past Gretchen, but this time, the old man looked up at me with a piercing stare as I walked by. His ancient grey eyes were all seeing, I felt like he could see right into my soul. And somehow, I got the sense that he knew I was hiding Munchie in my pocket. I suppressed a shudder and walked closer to Ivory.
There was an open door a short distance down the hallway, and Hodgins stopped by it, looking inside curiously. Whatever he saw made him stiffen. He turned around and glared down the corridor at Gretchen.
“Gretch! What the hell is that old hag doing in there?!”
Gretchen shrugged and placed the picture he was cleaning back in its frame. Infuriated, Hodgins marched up to the old man, muttering a string of profanities he thought we couldn’t hear, which I thought was very unprofessional on his part.
Curious to know what had spoiled the man’s mood, I looked into the open doorway. Inside a room with worn out furnishings was a very old woman in a rocking chair. Her back was turned to us and she was mumbling something in an ominous tone, staring out the window at the falling rain, just rocking, rocking, and rocking.
I looked over my shoulder at Hodgins. He was too busy whispering frantically at Gretchen to notice me or Ivory. My curiosity got the best of me; I crossed the threshold, Ivory following after me hesitantly.
The minute we entered the room, the woman stopped rocking. A heavy, chilling silence filled the air for what seemed like an eternity. An icy feeling ran up my spine, making the goose bumps rise on my skin.
The white haired woman stood up silently, still facing the window. An invisible draft made her pure white night gown ebb and flow. She spoke in a loud, frosty voice that filled the entire room with echoes.
“I feel a cursed presence among us.”
The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
She turned around, inch by inch, and faced us. Her face was pale and ghostly, her eyes white an opaque, seeing and unseeing. She looked right at me with those colorless eyes.
She slowly lifted her left arm and pointed a long, bony finger at me, speaking the one word that had haunted me all my life.
“Cursed.”
Ivory took my hand. Instinctively or not, I didn’t know. But I grasped her hand just as tightly as she grasped mine.
The grey woman lowered her finger. She drifted towards us, the floorboards creaking underneath her each and every step. She stopped when she was a short distance away from us, lifted her finger again and said,
“You are in grave danger.”
Before I could respond to that, Hodgins flashed into the room, stomped up to the old woman and picked her up in his arms, not bothering to be gentle.
“Sorry about this,” he said to us, forcing himself to smile. “She isn’t supposed to be here.”
“S-she j-just said-”
“Don’t listen to her, she’s nuts,” Hodgins cut me off. “Here’s the key to your room. The number is on the door.”
He carried the scary old woman out of the room. She stared into space with her solid white eyes, now mumbling things that weren’t understandable. Something about a fire, a man and “a quest for immortality”.
“Enjoy your stay!” Hodgins called, taking the woman down the hallway. Her murmurs died down as they disappeared down the corridor.
I was numb. Shaken. I couldn’t move my feet. I stared into the empty space, the word repeating itself over and over again in my mind like a broken record.
Cursed. Cursed. Cursed. Cur-
“Clover?”
Ivory’s voice broke my reverie. I forced myself to look down at her. Her green eyes were full of concern as she watched me. Vaguely, I wondered what kind of expression I wore on my face. I probably looked terrified.
“You okay?”
“Uh…I don’t think so,” I whispered.
“Come on.” She took my hand again. “Let’s go to our room.”
“No,” I blurted out. “I don’t want to stay here.”
“Why not?”
“That lady freaked me out.”
“Clover, we don’t have anywhere else to go,” Ivory said.
I swallowed. Her eyes roamed over my face in distress.
“I’m scared,” I couldn’t find it in myself to be ashamed to admit it.
“Come on,” Ivory snorted, patting me on the shoulder. “She’s nuts. Hodgins said so.”
I was silent. Ivory sighed, and then she put both her arms around me protectively. “You are not cursed, Clover.”
For a minute, her touch made me forget everything.
“Tell me something,” she murmured, gazing up at me with a fixed stare. “Has anything bad happened to us lately?”
I thought about it for a minute, then admitted, “Well, no…”
“The money Mamma gave us, the free clothes from that nice lady, the fact that Hodgins gave us a better room for a lower price…I think we can establish that most everything that’s happened to us lately has been fairly good. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“But that woman-”
“Was talking gibberish. Just like Hodgins said.”
My uncertainty wavered. “I don’t know…”
“Look, why don’t we just go to our room, get some rest, and then figure things out in the morning?”
I deliberated, still unsure. Then, reluctantly, I nodded.
“Alright, come on,” Ivory said, releasing me but keeping a firm grip on my hand. She tugged me along the corridor and to the door leading to our room. She put the golden key in the lock and twisted the knob, opening the door and pulling me inside the room, closing the door behind us.
