Tales from Tarker's Hollow Page 13

Marie was too astonished at the question to answer.

  “Don’t worry, my dear, just enjoy yourself,” he told her. “We have all the time in the world.”

  Suddenly, his embrace felt too tight, the room too warm.

  Marie tried to hold herself up, but when tiny stars appeared before her eyes she knew it was too late.

  4

  A Special Gift

  Marie awoke on the velvet settee in her mother’s sitting room. Voices swam around her, far away at first, then nearer.

  “Oh mercy, she’s waking up,” her mother said. “Thanks so much, Grace.”

  “You’re welcome, Mrs. Ironwood,” Grace Kwon-Cortez said quietly, patting Marie once on the leg and giving her a kind smile before standing to leave.

  “What happened, Marie?” her mother asked plaintively. “You were dancing so beautifully. Poor Harry was quite concerned.”

  She turned to the door.

  “Oh, Grace. Do be a dear and let Mr. Dross know that Marie is alright.”

  Grace nodded as she pulled the door shut behind her.

  Marie struggled to sit up, the dress making the act a bit of a challenge.

  Her mother put a hand to her forehead.

  “I’m fine, Mom. I just danced too much and it was so warm.”

  “Oh, I’m glad, darling.” Her mother smiled and paused to stroke Marie’s hair before continuing. “Because I want to talk to you about Thaddeus Ratcliffe.”

  Marie sighed.

  “You know,” her mother continued, not noticing the sigh, or simply choosing to ignore it. “He really seemed quite taken with you.”

  Marie bit her lip. Had her mother been watching the same dance?

  “Do you like him?” her mother asked.

  Marie thought it over.

  She couldn’t lie to her mother. And yet, she couldn’t admit that Thaddeus Ratcliffe had any redeeming quality.

  “He certainly knows how to enjoy himself,” Marie allowed at length. Of course his enjoyment was only at her expense, but it was a positive thing to say, and true.

  Addie smiled like a child and Marie smiled back.

  “Yes, that’s good,” Addie declared, thumping Marie’s leg.

  A gentle knock sounded from her door.

  “Bertram?” Addie called.

  “No, Addie,” said a deep voice. “It’s Harry.”

  Addie turned to Marie with one eyebrow lifted.

  Marie tried not to laugh out loud at her mother’s silliness.

  “Please, come in,” Addie called.

  The door swung open to reveal Harry Dross, wheeling something large, draped in golden cloth, on a cart in front of him.

  “Marie, please forgive me. I know you’re not feeling well. But I never got a chance to give you your gift tonight,” he told her earnestly. “Would you like to see it?”

  The corner of his mouth curved up playfully, as if he already knew the answer.

  What could he have possibly brought her that would require a cart and a blanket?

  Maybe it was another dollhouse like the one he had sent when she was ten.

  It was odd to think that when Marie was ten, this man had been old enough to build her a dollhouse. When they had danced, she would have sworn he was only a few years her senior.

  He gave her a warm smile and his brown eyes twinkled from underneath his too long hair. Marie’s insides tingled under his gaze.

  He pushed the cart to the settee.

  Addie stood by the doorway, clutching her hands together excitedly, as if she felt she shouldn’t intrude on her daughter’s moment, but also couldn’t bear to leave.

  Marie looked up at Dross.

  He nodded.

  She ran her hand along the material, feeling some kind of hard ribs under the smooth cloth.

  Slowly, she tugged the corner of the cloth and it slid to the floor like silk, revealing an ornamental wrought iron cage.

  In the cage slept a dragon.

  Of course, Marie knew it had to be a clockwork toy.

  But it looked so real.

  Brown leathery wings folded over its small body, which was covered in tiny bronze scales.

  It lay motionless, curled in a ball at the center of the cage.

  “Oh,” Marie sighed in delight.

  At the sound of her voice, the dragon opened its eyes.

  They were the color of liquid gold.

  5

  Bonding

  Marie sat, stunned and almost frightened to see the eyes from her vision in the face of the clockwork dragon.

  “He’s a fire-breather,” Dross said quietly. “That’s why the eyes are amber.”

  “They’re golden,” Marie breathed.

  Dross chuckled.

  “Would you like to hold him?” he asked.

  Him…

  Marie considered the dragon.

  He looked up at her with the most intelligent expression and made a gentle whirring sound.

  “Do you want to be held?” she asked him, feeling almost as if holding the magical toy would be an insult to it.

  But the dragon cocked his head as if he understood her, then opened his mouth in what Marie could only describe as a friendly smile.

  “Look at all those teeth!” Addie exclaimed, still at her place in the doorway.

  “He will do no harm to Marie,” Dross replied as he worked the latch on the cage.

  The little gate opened, and the dragon rose and stretched in a series of clicks and whirs, causing all his scales to shimmer before trotting out. He came straight for Marie, hopping happily on his hind feet and nearly seeming to dance before resting his shining front claws on her knee and ticking at her inquisitively.

  Marie thought her heart would burst with pleasure. How could such a toy be created? He seemed so real. The work that would be required to make such a thing was beyond her imagination.

  She patted her lap.

  The little fellow hopped right up and curled himself into a circle again.

  The rest of the evening passed quickly.

  Marie returned to the ballroom, clockwork dragon in arms, and sat under the Christmas tree, playing with him and polishing his claws and shimmering scales with bits of muslin the housemaid had brought to her.

  She noticed he had a tiny hole at the base of his neck. It looked like a slot for a key, and she wondered if he needed to be wound from time to time.

  The party went on around her. Dross danced tirelessly with all the ladies who had ogled him earlier. But when he passed Marie’s spot under the tree, he would give her a wink or an ironic smile. She knew that he wasn’t interested in those other women.

  He was interested in her.

  Across the room, she spied her father talking earnestly with a group of men wearing turbans. It was amazing to think that these people from all over the world were her parents’ friends. And that they would travel so far for their children to meet each other, and have a hope of keeping the magic alive.

  Without warning, there was a huge crash and something gigantic tackled her.

  Marie screamed.

  The dragon hissed loudly.

  That sound was followed by a pained bellow.

  “Ouch!” Fritz yelled, indignantly.

  It was her brother, of course.

  He was always trying to startle her. It came from watching those silly TV shows about pranks. Marie rued the day they were invented.

  Relief mixed with annoyance in her chest, and she smacked the top of his head.

  “Oh, Fritz,” she whispered, noticing the angry red mark on his hand.

  “What is wrong with this ugly toy?” he asked.

  Marie’s eyes moved to the clockwork dragon, standing, feet apart, at full alert, between herself and Fritz.

  “He’s trying to protect me,” she said with a swell of pride. “I know you think it’s funny to just… attack people. But it isn’t. Even a toy knows that!”

  “Marie, Fritz,” her mother chirped as she reached the tree.

  Ma
rie could tell that her mother was plenty mad by the sweet high note of her voice.

  The music had stopped, and the couples had ceased dancing and turned toward the tree.

  “That dumb dragon bit me!” Fritz bellowed, fixing his mother with his saddest hazel-eyed gaze.

  Marie felt a hand on her shoulder and knew it was Dross’s without turning around. His touch rippled though her body like electricity.

  “I’m sorry, Addie,” Harry said softly. “I didn’t expect it so soon, but the dragon has already bonded to Marie. I knew he would protect her. I should have introduced him to Fritz. Forgive me.”

  Addie’s dour expression softened slightly.

  “That’s fine, Harry. We’ll figure out what to do about it tomorrow. For tonight, he will have to go back in his cage,” she said sternly.

  “No, Mom,” Marie protested.

  “There’s too much going on here tonight. We can’t risk anyone else getting hurt,” her mother replied with finality.

  “Come on,” Dross said giving Marie’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll help you.”

  6

  Good Night

  The walk back to her room seemed to go on forever.

  It was odd to lead a man to her bedroom. But her mother had explained that the maid brought the cage there. A little voice in the back of her head wondered if this was all some sort of set up. But she felt immediately embarrassed at the thought. After all, no one could have predicted the events of the evening. And Dross would not fall in love with her, not really. He was like some sort of reclusive rock star, and she was… herself.

  Marie held the clockwork dragon protectively against her chest like a baby, as Harry opened the bedroom door for her.

  The cage sat on the fluffy rug in front of the window seat. Its dark heaviness seemed out of place in this light space.

  “It’s just the same,” Harry said, taking in her room.

  Marie looked up at him, surprised, then scanned her room, wondering how odd it must seem to him that she still had her old books and toys. How many of them had he built for her?

  “Yes,” she said, trying not to feel too self-conscious.

  “I think it’s lovely,” he assured her, seeming to sense her defensiveness. “Do you think me somehow unsophisticated because I choose to spend my time working among toys?”

  She shook her head awkwardly and looked down at the soft leathery wings of the dragon in her arms to avoid looking at Dross.

  He waited for her to look up again before continuing.

  “You must never forget the trappings of your youth, Marie,” he said, his dark eyes serious. “There is magic in the past.”

  Marie wanted to tell him that magic in the past was exactly the problem, but she held her tongue.

  “I know you don’t want to put him in the cage,” he said. “But we’d better not disappoint your mother.”

  “He’s exquisite.” Marie had already grown used to the weight of the little dragon in her arms.

  She paused, as if Dross might grant her a reprieve, but she suddenly found herself unable to bear the weight of his gaze. She looked down again, studying the top of the dragon’s head.

  “Thank you for bringing him,” she said, as much to the dragon as to the man in her doorway.

  “It was my pleasure,” he told her, his hand on the doorknob.

  Don’t leave, she wanted to shout.

  “How did you make him?” she asked instead.

  Harry smiled and removed his hand from the knob.

  “He’s unusual, isn’t he?” he asked.

  Marie nodded.

  “One of my greatest works, I think,” Harry said, a hint of sadness creeping into his voice. “He’s completely unique, and he will protect you faithfully.”

  “Is he… magical?” Marie asked.

  “I’m afraid I can’t perform magic anymore, Marie,” he replied with a wistful smile. “I only tinker with things.”

  Anymore?

  She looked back at the dragon’s head resting on her shoulder. She couldn’t see his little face, but she noticed his ears prick up.

  Dross surveyed him with a look of satisfaction.

  “Why did you go away from Tarker’s Hollow?” she asked.

  “It’s not something I like to talk about,” he said softly.

  She looked up at him again. The silver strands in his hair that she’d spotted earlier seemed to be all but gone, as if they had only been a trick of the light. His deep brown eyes stared back at her solemnly. He looked handsome, more so than anyone she’d ever met, yet he carried an almost visible weight of sadness with him that made Marie’s heart ache just a little.

  “Why did you come back?” she whispered.

  He shook his head slightly, and she could feel him taking her in. His gaze caressed her hair, her face.

  He ran a hand through his own hair and stepped backward.

  “Let’s go back to the ball, Marie,” he urged her. “Put the dragon in his cage and let’s dance.”

  Marie suddenly had a strange feeling. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something wasn’t right.

  “I’m going to rest for a little while. You go on, the ladies are missing you,” she told him with a smile.

  He smiled indulgently at her in a way that was too familiar for a distant family friend. Again, Marie felt a stirring in her heart, followed by an even stronger conviction that something wasn’t right.

  “Don’t forget to put him in the cage,” he admonished her as he slipped out and closed the door behind him.

  Marie found herself alone with the dragon.

  He snuggled his cool snout into the crook of her neck, as if he knew what was coming.

  “Sorry, little friend,” she whispered to him. “Addie knows best.”

  He went into the cage willingly enough, and Marie latched it behind him.

  She removed her ball gown carefully and hung it on the padded hanger, then slid her nightgown back over her head.

  He mother might take issue with her not returning to the party, but she would deal with that later. For some reason, she was wildly, dangerously tired.

  Perhaps the golden-eyed prince wanted to pay her a visit.

  She looked at the dragon, momentarily suspicious of his golden eyes.

  But he was asleep already, his copper belly rising and falling slowly.

  Marie picked up her phone from the charger on her bedside table and set an alarm for the morning. That was about all her phone was good for, since it was impossible to get any reception in the house. Marie supposed the tall trees, thick stone walls, and ancient layers of lead paint were most likely to blame. Although she had always secretly suspected there was some magic in play, given her mother’s dislike of any technology newer than a toaster.

  Addie Ironwood had even gone so far as to get rid of the wireless router, after one of Marie’s so-called tutors had suggested the “wifi particles” might be interfering with her magic. Marie had spent a lot of hours doing homework at the library after that.

  She sighed and slid into bed. The coverlet embraced her like a lover, and Marie drifted to sleep before her eyes were shut.

  7

  A Whispered Plot

  Marie awoke in the middle of the night, her room cloaked in inky blackness. The only sound was a low metallic groan coming from the clockwork dragon.

  She had forgotten to ask Dross how to wind him.

  Chagrined, Marie slid out of bed and knelt to unlatch the door to his cage, wondering if anyone was still awake. She didn’t want to disturb Dross, but she also didn’t want his creation harmed.

  The dragon ceased his eerie moaning and began to swish his pointed tail with enough force to set his whole little body swaying.

  Marie had to smile.

  “Do you need to be wound? Come on, love, let’s see if anyone’s still awake.”

  He felt surprisingly warm in her arms. Probably from having his cage so close to the radiator. Although the cage itself had been c
ool to the touch.

  More quickly than she would have guessed possible, the dragon leaped from her grasp and scuttled down the hallway, ticking and whirring like a scolding squirrel.

  What in the world had gotten into him?

  She followed him down the hall as quickly and noiselessly as she could. A strange quiet enshrouded the house, giving it an empty feel, despite the fact that several guests were staying the night, including Harry Dross.

  The thought of Dross made her heart pound.

  She focused on catching up to the dragon. Such an incredible creation must have cost Dross years of painstaking work. How would she explain if something happened to him?

  Relief flooded her veins when she found him in the front hall, pawing rhythmically at the thick chestnut door.

  “You do seem real, but I know you don’t have to go outside.”

  He cocked his shining head with a click and made a short whirring sound, seeming to study her with those golden eyes.

  Then he turned away from her to paw the door again.

  Marie knew that she should scoop the dragon up and carry him back to her room, but something made her push open the heavy chestnut door instead.

  A swirl of snow danced inside.

  The dragon lifted its shimmering snout to the air and then scuttled out into the snow. His clicks and whirs were lost immediately in the rushing wind.

  Marie wished she’d had the modesty and good sense to get dressed before leaving her room. She hadn’t expected the dragon to lead her out into the snow, like a dog that’s caught a scent.

  Oddly, Marie thought she could smell something in the air herself. A hint of peppermint, or a whiff of chocolate, maybe.

  She closed the door against the storm, and dashed into the closet to find a pair of boots.

  The hall closet was a wonderful space. Half of it was original to the house, and it dated from an era when people put things in a closet to air them out. To aid with that, it featured large window overlooking the side garden, though tonight all Marie could see was a blanket of white.