Nicholas Raven and the Wizards' Web - Volume 1 (21 page)

Nicholas laughed. “You don’t look like a feed-the-chickens kind of woman, Megan. I see you destined for greater things.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but right now chickens don’t look so bad.”

Nicholas pulled his chair closer to the table and leaned in. He stared at her for a moment, his concern and friendship apparent. “Tell me what’s going on,” he whispered. “I’ll be happy to listen. Won’t even offer a comment or a word of advice. You can trust me.”

Megan breathed deeply and folded her hands. She so wanted to confide in somebody and had begun to trust Nicholas after he had opened up to her, realizing that a new perspective on her situation might help clear up matters. But trust was a fragile thing, and maybe it would be better to arrive in Boros with her secrets intact. It was a dizzying debate raging in her head and wearing her out until Megan came to a snap decision.

“Nicholas, this may sound hard to believe, but–”

“Your room is all set, Megan.” Leo sauntered over to the table. “Mabel placed you in the last room on the west side. Nicholas and I will be across the hall.”

“Thanks, Leo,” she said, her words clouded with a tinge of disappointment.

“We’ll draw straws, Nicholas,” he added. “Short one gets the floor.”

“So long as the winner buys the first round of ale in the common room,” he said. Leo quickly agreed.

“Well, you boys stay up as late as you like.” Megan yawned. “I’m going to sleep now. I can barely keep my eyes open.”

“Suit yourself, though the ale is especially good here,” Leo remarked.

After leaving the dining area, they bumped into Elaine in the main hallway who escorted Megan to her room on the second floor. Nicholas and Leo walked into the common room, ordered two mugs of ale and took a seat on one of the side benches near the fireplace. The room was shadowy and still, save for the popping sparks from the fire and the muted talk of several conversations. The air was awash with the sharp scents of wood smoke, ale and various dried meats and cheeses available for patrons on a side counter. Bunches of fresh pine clippings and dried goldenrod hung from the walls.

“I was thinking that maybe I should stay in Boros a few days to keep an eye on Megan,” Nicholas said between sips of his drink. “I mentioned it to her while you were arranging for the rooms.”

“Are you going to?”

“If she wants me to, though when I suggested that she’d probably rather have you staying there, Megan admitted how much she cares for you.” He noted Leo’s smile in the dim light. “Maybe you can visit her in Boros once or twice before winter sets in.”

“I plan to. I only wish I knew what was bothering her.”

Nicholas stretched his legs and glanced at the flames dancing in the fireplace. “She was about to tell me but stopped when you came back. She wants to open up, but I think she’s scared of something. I can’t imagine what.”

“Women are tough to figure out,” Leo said, downing part of his drink. “But I’m willing to spend some extra time trying to figure out this particular one. She caught my eye the first time I saw her after climbing out of that mud puddle.”

“I think Megan would be pleased to hear that,” Nicholas said.

The glass encased candle on the sill at the end of the upstairs hall gently flickered, casting a circular reflection that bobbed upon the ceiling. Elaine, carrying another lit candle in a pewter holder, guided Megan down the gloomy passage.

“Thank you for your help, Elaine,” she said as she stopped at the door to her room. “I’ll sleep like a bear in winter tonight.”

“There’s a basin of fresh water in the room, and I lit the oil lamp on your bedside table. Should you need anything else during the night, just give a holler,” she softly said. “And Mother insists that you and your friends join her and Father for breakfast tomorrow before you leave. So come prepared to the table with an appetite.”

Megan smiled with amusement. “Mabel is too kind, but tell her I look forward to it. Goodnight, Elaine,” she said as she slipped inside her room and closed the door.

“Good night.”

Elaine walked down the hallway, followed by her shadow gliding silently across the wall. The second floor was quiet except for the occasional murmur of voices drifting up the staircase from the main dining room. She passed by several other doors and then walked down the stairs, not noticing that the third door from Megan’s room had been opened just a crack, an eye of its occupant peering through, having studiously watched the two women just a moment earlier.

Now that Elaine had left, he opened the door wider and craned his neck into the hallway. A lock of his straggly hair fell over one eye and his clothes were infused with the scent of pipe smoke. The guest, who had checked in less than an hour ago and went straight to his room, noted precisely which room Megan had entered. He stepped back inside his room and quietly closed the door.

A few minutes later he emerged again after scanning the hallway for other guests. Not a soul was in sight. Dressed in a coat and hat, he cautiously walked to Megan’s room carrying a square parchment envelope sealed with wax. After a last furtive glance down the hallway, he slipped the envelope under Megan’s door, knocked lightly upon it, and then hurried through the corridor and down the stairs. No one was present in the entryway at the bottom of the steps, so he left the inn through the front door and raced around toward the back stables under the cloudy cover of night.

A few minutes earlier, Nicholas and Leo were finishing up their first round of ale in the common room. Several more patrons had drifted in from the dining area as the evening meals concluded. A few of them enjoyed a nightcap of wine while others preferred some leisurely conversation and a pipe in front of the fire.

“My compliments to the innkeepers,” Nicholas said. “The quality drink they serve is unusually good.”

“Ron keeps an impressive store of ale and wine casks in his cellar,” Leo informed him. “He received a particularly good shipment of ale all the way from Drumaya last year that my father and I sampled. But he wasn’t able to get any this year as I found out over the summer. Limited supply, and the cost nearly doubled.” Leo frowned. “In addition to the ale, I hear there’s turmoil brewing near Drumaya as well.”

“Rumblings of war are spreading all over Laparia lately,” Nicholas said. “We can be thankful for a brief respite here with the Knotts. My, but those two seem perpetually busy, don’t they? Though apparently enjoying every minute of it.”

Leo nodded. “Ron and Mabel even brew batches of plum wine to serve at the inn when the mood strikes them. So whether it’s cooking meals, greeting guests or stabling horses, the Plum Orchard Inn is their life. They had
better
enjoy it!” he said, polishing off the last of his drink. He handed his mug to Nicholas. “And speaking of horses, I’m going to check on mine and make sure Fred has the apple wagon secured for the night.”

“All right. I’ll get us another round.”

“I’ll meet you back here shortly,” Leo said, leaving the shadows of the common room.

Megan glanced around her tiny room dimly lit by a single oil lamp, its low flame flickering on a nightstand next to the bed. A pair of heavy drapes had been untied so that they covered the room’s only window. A maple dresser stood against the wall near the door, on top of which had been placed a filled water basin, several washcloths, a tiny mirror and two unlit candles. The small fireplace opposite the foot of the bed contained a few cold burnt logs. Two wooden chairs sat at an angle on either side.

Megan prepared to turn up the oil lamp and decided she preferred the low light instead. It better matched her grim mood. She sat down in one of the chairs and stared at the opposite wall, not really tired. She just couldn’t face Nicholas and Leo for the rest of the evening, knowing they’d be having a good time while she was miserable inside. With luck, she hoped she would soon grow tired and put an end to this dreary evening. Constant thoughts about arriving in Boros tomorrow, and then losing Leo shortly after, tormented her like a disturbing dream. All she could do was accept the fact that there was nothing she could do to alter the situation. She despised the constant disruptions in her life lately because of larger concerns over which she had no control. Would they ever end? Would they ever leave her alone?

A knock at the door startled Megan. She stood, shaking the sullen thoughts from her mind. She opened the door and glanced up and down the deserted hallway, wondering if she had imagined hearing the knock. When closing the door, she noticed a small envelope lying on the floor. She picked it up, sat on the edge of the bed and adjusted the wick of the oil lamp for additional light.

The parchment envelope was sealed with candle drippings without a trace of handwriting visible on the front or back. Megan couldn’t imagine who would send her a note in this manner, or why. She broke the seal and removed a folded piece of cream colored paper and began to read.

Megan, meet me behind the stables as soon as you can. It’s very important that I speak to you at once. Tell no one. Leo

She read the note a second time, her heart racing. What could Leo want that he had to tell her in so secretive a manner? She wondered, almost hoped, that he was having similar feelings to her own. Maybe Leo was thinking about a future for them together somewhere, somehow. Maybe there was a chance to find happiness in this world. Then Megan realized that she was thinking like an excited child and tried to calm down. They had just met, after all. She would speak to Leo first before jumping to any conclusions. She slipped the note back inside the envelope, extinguished the bedside lamp and quietly left her room.

Downstairs, she removed her cloak from one of the pegs near the main entrance and slipped it on to brave the chilly night. She was about to leave the inn when Ron Knott called to her from behind.

“I thought you’d already retired for the night,” he said pleasantly. He carried a tray of dirty dishes from the dining room on his way to the back kitchen. “I hope your accommodations are satisfactory.”

“Oh, they’re quite lovely, Ron,” Megan said as she walked over to him. “I just need some fresh air. Not as tired as I thought I was. Please don’t let me keep you from your chores.”

“No bother,” he said, displaying a grin under his bushy mustache. “My chores around here never end.” He set the tray down on a bench along the wall. “However, I wouldn’t be a proper host if I didn’t watch out for the safety of my customers.”

Ron opened a door alongside the staircase and removed an oil lamp. He lifted its glass globe and lit the wick using a candle burning on a window sill near the door. He handed the lamp to Megan who smiled with appreciation.

“How very sweet of you. You’re spoiling me too much on my short stay.”

“I wouldn’t want you stumbling in the dark. I’d never forgive myself,” he said. “And my dear Mabel would crown me for sure if anything happened to you.”

“Thank you.”

“I could fetch Fred if you’d like some company. Most folks stay indoors after darkness this time of year.”

“Really, I’ll be fine, Ron.” Megan slowly inched her way to the door. “I’d prefer a bit of solitude actually. So thank you again, and I’ll see you and your wife tomorrow at the breakfast table.”

“Looking forward to it,” he said, picking up the tray of dishes. “And when you’re finished outdoors, set the lamp on the floor near this bench so I’ll know that you made it back safely inside for the night.”

“I will,” she promised. “Good night.”

“Good night,” Ron said as he drifted down the hallway and disappeared into the kitchen. Megan, with the oil lamp in hand, wrapped her cloak tightly about her and stepped out of the Plum Orchard Inn into the crisp autumn air.

The sky was as dark as a crow’s wing. A thick blanket of clouds had drifted in from the west, blotting out the stars and the two moons. Megan walked along the stone path, stopping by the front sign bathed in yellow light. Ron and Mabel Knott were such good hosts and fine people, she thought, just like Leo’s parents. She hated running away from others and wished she had stood her ground back home and stayed there. But it was all for her own good, they had told her, so she promised to go to Boros where Aunt Castella would be awaiting her arrival. But what good was safety if she was miserable all the time? She took several deep breaths of the night air and turned around, strolling across the lawn toward the side of the inn.

The main storage barn stood off to the right behind the Plum Orchard Inn, with the horse stables on the left. A large oak tree grew in the wide space between them. Megan could hear the gentle babbling of a creek that flowed behind the pair of buildings. She slowly walked in the direction of the stables, guided by the ring of light cast on the ground. The spicy sweetness of freshly fallen leaves peppered the air. She tried to imagine what Leo could want as she moved along the right side of the stables and turned the corner, stepping behind them.

With the inn out of sight, everything was now bathed in inky blackness. The stream gurgled louder and the rustling of the trees sounded dry and desolate. Megan held up the lamp, its pale light stretching over the ground and the knotty planks of the stable wall.

“Leo,” she whispered, seeing no one around. She stepped cautiously along the back wall. Each snap of a twig or crunch of a leaf echoed loudly in the night air. “
Leo
? It’s Megan. Where are you?” No reply except from the water and the wind as she continued to the other end of the building. “Leo,” she repeated more loudly. “If you have something to say, I’d wish you come here and say it. We could have met in the common room. It would have been much easier.” She turned the corner at the far end of the stables. “Not to mention warmer and–”