14 February 1875 of the 6th Era, The Iron Giant

  It took them a while to get Mr Flint to finally calm down enough for his incoherent ramblings to start making any sense. On Professor O’Neill’s request, herbal tea was brought in, while Dorian and Antony did their best to try and placate him. Charlotte refrained from participating in the conversation and instead resorted to silently examining Mr Flint from head to toe, as if she were a doctor trying to diagnose a malady.

  Finally, Mr Flint mustered, “There’s a curse on me, I’m sure of it! It just happened to claim Ms Glancy instead of me, but it’s just a matter of time till it snaps back! And Cardinal Whitesand completely refused to listen to me! You, too, are a cleric of the Lady of the Dead Moon, you have to see reason!”

  “Mr Flint, while I would love to help you, I cannot do so until you calm down. Breathe, please, and once you’re able, start from the very beginning,” Charlotte’s voice was calm and quiet, with no hints at being condescending or patronising. “Why are you so certain that there is a curse placed on you? And by whom?”

  “I… I’m…”

  “Once again, Mr Flint. I wish to help you. Please. Let’s get your mind on track. What made you believe that there was a curse in the first place? And when did it happen? Yesterday, a week ago, longer?”

  “It started several months before boarding this train,” Mr Flint heaved a heavy sigh, accepting the herbal tea and finally settling into the armchair. “At first, I didn’t even realise there was something amiss. I tripped over a carpet once. Then slipped on the ice and fell in the most embarrassing fashion, and right in front of Agatha, too. Lady Agatha Flowers, that is. Oh, she had so much fun calling me clumsy back then.

  “But the bad omens continued. A black cat ran across the road in front of me, and just a few minutes later, an icicle almost fell on my head. Then, I found out that a very important letter got misplaced, and because of that I had to rush things in order not to lose a very valuable client. The very next day, someone delivered white lilies to my house by mistake. Surely you know what white lilies mean, Lady Dawntreader?”

  “We place a single red lily on the grave of a loved one,” Charlotte quietly said, “and a white one if they were our closest friend. I take it, you people also follow these traditions.”

  “Yes. Someone delivered an entire bouquet of these to my house! And then, when I came to Lundhaven, I started seeing ravens everywhere. They kept following me, you see, no matter where I went. They were watching me, constantly. Swooping down from the roofs, cawing on the trees, flapping their wings. I swear, they were waiting for an opportunity to claim my body, to start their feast!”

  “Are you certain they were ravens and not crows? It is quite cold outside, and the latter lot get together in search of food, becoming a very common sight in cities.”

  “I do mix things up occasionally, but I doubt I would mistake a crow for a raven. They are very distinct from each other.”

  Charlotte thought a bit, then asked, “You say you saw them in Lundhaven, but you’re from Enua, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Crows in Lundhaven are black. If I’m not mistaken, those you find here have grey bodies and black heads and wings?”

  “In that case, maybe they were crows,” Mr Flint said after a long pause. “Still, they followed me everywhere. That fact doesn’t change.”

  Charlotte could have definitely asked how Mr Flint was so certain it was the same murder of crows that was following him, but in his present state, there was no rationalising with him. There was also no way to convince him that to someone who knew not that crows came in different colours, every crow also looked the same. Besides, the word “murder” was rather unfit for this situation, and could send Mr Flint into another fit of panic.

  “Did they actually try to attack you at any point?”

  “No, thankfully. Merely followed me around and cawed at me. It was so stressful that I almost failed the presentation!”

  “Presentation?”

  “That is why I ended up in Lindau in the first place. I was finalising a very important deal, and part of that was to present them one of our latest inventions,” he grumbled.

  “Alright. So the crows were following you everywhere.”

  “Yes.”

  “Even to the train station?”

  He paused again, somewhat suspicious of that seemingly innocuous question, then confessed, “Now that you ask, I don’t remember seeing any at the train station. However, maybe they were just hiding. Or was it the magic security that kept them at bay? Or the crowd that had gathered to see The Iron Giant off?”

  “It isn’t impossible. I take it, the crows were not the last of your misfortunes?”

  “No. On the first night on this train, I couldn’t sleep, because I kept hearing these knocking noises. As if someone kept knocking on the windows. Obviously, every time I dared look outside, there was no one. And before you ask, I did try to find a reasonable explanation, such as a branch hitting the window. However, there were no trees along the tracks, just hills and sparse villages,” Mr Flint replied.

  “Did anyone else hear these noises?”

  “Agatha is staying in the compartment next to me, and she heard nothing. Then again, if I am cursed, it makes sense, doesn’t it?”

  “It also would make sense if she’s a sound sleeper,” Charlotte reasoned. “While all present here belong to long-lived species, even among us resting patterns differ. My rest, for example, can be interrupted by the smallest of noises. Among these gentlemen, at least one, I’m certain, can sleep through a storm and will only wake up when the roof above his head gets torn off by the furious winds. And even that he might view as a minor annoyance.

  “Still. Please, continue. I’m certain that a bunch of birds and a knock or two on the window were not enough to truly make you believe all of this was a curse.”

  “Of course,” Mr Flint calmed down completely. Charlotte’s mundane, matter-of-fact voice instilled confidence in him, making him believe that she took the matter seriously. Even a few notes of his usual loftiness appeared here and there as he resumed his narration. “The next night, I kept hearing the tap leaking, but obviously that was not the case. Once, when I got up to check it, I saw something in the mirror. And that something was definitely not my reflection. It was an eerie figure of a human woman pointing a finger at me. The moment I turned around, she was gone.

  “The next day, I almost broke a tooth when eating cake. And then someone pushed me as I was passing between the carriages, but… There was no one there when I looked around! Obviously, I checked if perhaps the carpet was creased or there was some other obstacle, and I merely tripped, but no. Everything was perfectly ordinary.”

  He took a deep breath, looking at the four of them expectantly.

  “So you were being followed by small misfortunes so far.”

  “I could have hurt myself from falling. Besides, you were there yesterday, Lady Dawntreader. You saw both the ghost and the bird in the cup. You even fainted upon seeing the latter!”

  “I fainted because I was feeling unwell. And you do remember that the ‘ghost’ was but an illusion, don’t you?”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “What if it wasn’t?”

  “I assure you, it was,” she said confidently. “Someone created that to scare someone. Possibly to scare you.”

  “Scare me? Nonsense,” he scoffed at the very notion.

  “I am not implying they succeeded. Mr Flint, who told you that you could be dealing with a curse?”

  “Huh?”

  “You are a very practical man. And, let us be honest here for a moment, not one who is very attentive to his surroundings,” Charlotte’s voice remained perfectly mundane still. “I cannot imagine you jumping to such conclusions without at least a gentle nudge from someone more impressionable.”

  A little flattery went a long way with Mr Flint. All she had to do now was wait and see if it would net her anything useful.

  “It was Ms Glancy,” he said heavily, his face quite shocked with the realisation. “But I don’t think she was the one who tried to scare me. On the contrary. I fear she paid the price for pointing it out. The curse itself, or the one who had placed that curse, punished her for alerting me to the matter.”

  “I see. And when did she do that?”

  “I don’t remember. Sometime during the trip, probably. Does it even matter? Once she said it, it all made perfect sense,” he continued, agitated again. “The little mishaps, the mixups, the tappings, the ghosts – all of it made perfect sense. Or are you going to tell me that I am imagining things?”

  “Far from it. I’m certain that what you’ve been experiencing is very real. Only that… I also fear that you fell victim to someone's ill-mannered prank.”

  “You cannot be serious,” Mr Flint leaned forward in his armchair.

  “There is no curse over your head, Mr Flint,” she said simply. “At least, none that can be attributed to the Undeath, let alone narrowed down to necromancy. However, someone was doing their damndest to make you believe the opposite. Think well. You are a practical man, Mr Flint. Every single occurrence prior to you boarding the train can be explained by natural causes. A lot of them are nothing more but part of our everyday lives, such as black cats in the streets or crows on the rooftops. Even the knocking on the window can be explained by something being stuck to the hull of the train. It was simply at an angle where you couldn’t see it. Apparitions, of course, are trickier, but we saw one yesterday.

  “Could someone have overheard you complain about the noise to Lady Flowers, or that conversation you had with Glancy? Or could either of them have decided to play a harmless prank on you for whatever reason?”

  Mr Flint huffed a little, annoyed by Charlotte’s assumption, “Lady Flowers is a respectable noble. I doubt such a thought would have ever occurred to her. Ms Glancy, too, is an upstanding citizen of Enua, and I cannot imagine why she would do such a thing.”

  Yet, as he said that, Charlotte saw his lips twitch a bit, as if he was doubting his own words.

  Lady Flowers was right. You’d rather be struck by lightning than admit that you’re wrong. And whoever is responsible for this, noticed this trait of yours and used it to their advantage.

  “Alright,” she peacefully raised her hands. “Let us suppose that neither are to blame, but someone did overhear your conversation. Does that sound reasonable?”

  Mr Flint reluctantly nodded after a prolonged pause.

  “Then… Mind telling me where or when that could have happened? Or, perhaps, you complained about the matter to someone else and forgot about it?”

  “No such thing. Lady Flowers and Ms Glancy were the only people I ever talked to while on this train,” Mr Flint replied. “I am not a very social person, unless it’s required for work, you see. Prefer to keep a small circle of acquaintances, and Ms Glancy and Lady Flowers just happen to be part of it,” Mr Flint paused again, stroking his beard in deep thought, then raised his finger and continued, “You know, I almost sent Mr Perkins a letter asking him to take me off the list of passengers just a few days before the trip. I had this horrible feeling inside that something might go wrong, and lo and behold, it did. It was Agatha who talked me out of it, claiming that she would be bored out of her mind, as there was no one she was acquainted with. Until, of course, she found out that Ms Glancy was joining us. Still, she insisted. And, well,” he leaned forward and in a very sheepish tone admitted, “I’m not very good with teleportation magic. It upsets my stomach. But taking the boat from Lundhaven to Enua is even more of a hassle, and the train seemed like a great middle ground.”

  “So no one else was present when you talked about your mishaps.”

  Mr Flint shook his head.

  You’re certain that neither Lady Flowers nor Ms Glancy could be behind these pranks. Yet, you’re also certain that no one but them knew you were having trouble with black cats and crows. This doesn’t add up, Mr Flint. Which of your statements is a lie?

  “Did you discuss the knocking sounds only with Lady Flowers?”

  “Yes. No. If memory serves me right, Ms Glancy was also present.”

  “When was it, again?”

  “On the second day. Somewhere in the morning, probably. Yes. It was just before the first lecture of that day. No idea what it was about though.”

  “Not poetry, I take it?”

  “Definitely not,” he heartily laughed. “Frankly, I am not that much into poetry, either. I didn’t even know that Ms Glancy had won any awards. When it comes to literature, I very much prefer biographies and monographs on Alchemy. Lord Blackwater’s latest monograph was quite a treat to read. Very insightful.”

  “It was, I agree. Mr Flint, do you remember how Lady Flowers and Ms Glancy reacted?”

  “Uhm… Agatha brushed me off, saying that she heard no such thing. Ms Glancy on the other hand seemed quite agitated, restless even. She asked me a dozen questions on the nature of the knocking and if it had any rhythm to it. Maybe it was a code from the Other World, you know? Someone trying to warn me?

  “Ms Glancy was a bit of a, how should I put it without offending you, a spiritualist. She did not dabble in Undeath,” he hastily added, noticing Charlotte’s changed expression. “Just curious about the Other World and its rules. She mentioned that she even tried communicating with ghosts on a few occasions while seeking inspiration for her poetry.”

  “Was she successful?” There was a genuine spark of curiosity in Charlotte’s tone.

  “Far from it. She came away with a headache once. I’m not sure if she had any connection to the Source, but even if she did, she definitely did not receive any favours from your Lady. And from what I understood, without that, communication with spirits is nigh impossible.”

  “It depends. Any cleric can talk to the lingering presence, but actual ghosts… There’s no use trying to talk to them.”

  “So… Are you truly certain that there’s no curse?”

  “I stand by my word, Mr Flint. All of those instances were nothing more than mishaps. As for the tap making noises, the lady in the mirror, and the apparition you saw? Illusions. However, if you feel uncertain,” she stood up and raised her hand. For a brief moment, her fingers turned translucent, as if they were woven of starlight, and a large shepherd cane made of intricate crystal landed in her hand. From the middle of the hook hung a large bell, and Mr Flint seemed inexplicably drawn to it. As was everyone else in the room. Perhaps because the thing kept moving from side to side, as if ushered by an otherworldly wind, but remained eerily silent.

  Charlotte watched it, too, then unhurriedly pointed it towards Mr Flint. He flinched, as if afraid that she would smite him.

  The bell swung. Then once more. Then a third time, but made no sound still. Mr Flint visibly relaxed, looking around with newfound vigour.

  “This should do it.”

  “Thank you,” he stood up and bowed.

  “I’m glad I could be of help. Now unless the gentlemen have any questions…”

  Dorian and Antony both shook their heads.

  “Perhaps just one,” Antony considered something. “Mr Flint, how long have you known Ms Glancy?”

  “For six months. Or maybe a bit longer? Definitely less than a year.”

  “And how did you meet her?”

  “Agatha organises poetry salons. She once invited Professor Stein, who brought Ms Glancy with her. It turned into such an interesting debate that the four of us stayed at her house well into the night.”

  “And do you know who referred Professor Stein to Lady Flowers?”

  “You’ll have to ask Agatha about it, though I wouldn’t be surprised if she doesn’t remember, either,” he scoffed, having fully regained his composure. “Agatha’s mind is in a thousand places, doing ten thousand things at once. Honestly, she’s lucky she was born into a noble family and has a very attentive solicitor and an even more attentive secretary and housekeeper who keep her finances and household in check. She wouldn’t last a minute in the real world.”

  “Thank you,” Antony nodded. “If you remember anything else or hear more knocking, don’t hesitate to seek me or Mr Holmes out.”

  “Of course.”

  Once the door closed behind him and Professor O’Neill made sure that Mr Flint really was gone, Antony flatly said, “I must say, if this were an admission exam for one of Stolberg’s theatre academies, he would have passed with flying colours. For a moment, I even believed him.”

  “He was quite convincing until Lady Dawntreader summoned that staff of hers. He also acted strange yesterday, when that illusion appeared during the poetry salon, didn’t he?” Dorian leaned back in his armchair. “Could that be somehow connected to his present behaviour?”

  “Too early to say for now, but he’s clearly not being honest with us. Let’s invite Lady Flowers and see what she has to say about all of this,” there was something about that illusion that still did not sit right with her. She was missing something, but what?