Do you like stories with mystery and suspense? Strange and “wyrd” ones? Well, if you do, keep reading and enjoy Eggcentricsagas. If you are just joining Eggcentricsagas, you might want to start from the beginning: A La Mano: Part 1-The Treasure
Sweating, he slicked back his hair and paced back and forth in his train car, wearing a track in the already shabby rug that covered the floor. His anxiety was getting the best of him. Thoughts raced through his mind about Edward and the current situation.
Will he find anything? Maybe he’s not so good for the business anymore. Always too much gossip. Always seems to be lurking. He’s a talker alright. Manipulative and conniving. Dandy is right. The magician is up to something. Him and her. Who is that girl? What is she doing here? How is she connected to Elizabeth?
Picturing Charlotte and the fortune teller’s attractive, young faces, he thought pretty little things. Then he snorted contemptuously. Madame Glass. Her name made him curl his upper lip in disdain. Damn travellers. Nothing but trouble. You try to help them out, and what do they do? Turn on you. Snub their noses and gang up on people. Ha! I’ll show them. Anger boiled up inside of him. He continued to walk back and forth, slamming his right fist into his left palm until the pain was too much. It brought back his focus. We need to leave but not before I find out what is happening.
Resolute, he grabbed his hat and coat. Putting them on, he patted the lump in the coat’s breast pocket to reassure himself. Leaving the carriage, before descending the stairs, he felt in the side pockets for his gloves. “Hmmm,” he muttered as he pulled it out, “only one.” Feeling the pressure of time, he stuffed it back into his coat and hurried off into the twilight. Over the forest, to the east, the brightest stars were starting to twinkle in the dusky blue sky. In the west, however, thunder clouds had begun to form.
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Edward knelt over the side of the hole. Craning her neck forward to look over Edward’s shoulder, Charlotte wanted to see what was in the buried chest. Straining, she peered into the dark interior of the box. In the last few minutes, the evening sky had suddenly turned black, and the wind had picked up. A blazing crack of lightning lit the sky, and then, shortly, a peal of thunder sounded in the distance. Glints of light reflected from pieces of a broken table mirror, some of it still in its wooden frame, in the traveling case. Below, Charlotte saw what appeared to be an old, crumpled-up blanket. Edward confirmed her guess.
“It’s a shattered mirror on top of a rolled up blanket.” Gesturing towards it, he asked, “Can you hand me the lantern?” Charlotte complied and watched the magician scrutinized the contents closely to confirm he wasn’t missing anything. He pointed to the remaining pieces in the frame. “See how the cracks radiate outward? Someone threw something at it and broke it.” Then spotting a stain on the edge of the frame, he bent closer to examine it. “Is that blood?”
Setting the lantern on the ground above the opened trunk, Edward picked up the frame and placed it on the other side of the hole. Using the hand spade, he swept the glass shards off the top of the blanket. Jangling, they hit the side of the chest and tumbled to the bottom of it. Poking at the jumbled mass with his fingers, he then turned to her. “There’s something wrapped up in here.”
Right then, another thunderclap boomed loudly. The menacing clouds were drawing ever nearer. Charlotte shivered. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what was hidden in the bed covering. A drop of rain hit her cheek. She glanced at the gloomy mass gathered above, and another drop hit her face. Cold air seeped into her bones as the bolt of lightning ripped across the sky. “It’s starting to rain,” she told Edward as she shivered again.
Ignoring her statement about the weather, he was intent on unwrapping. “It feels hard.”
Her hand holding the candle started to tremble slightly. Hoping it wasn’t the head of Madame Glass, she watched as he exposed what was inside. A large crystal ball and a deck of Tarot cards. Simultaneously, they breathed a sigh of relief. Charlotte felt more drops as the rain found its way through the struts of the trestle bridge.
Edward picked up the lantern again and shined it directly on the ball. “I believe we have found a clue,” he said and pointed to a red smudge on it. “That may be a bloody fingerprint. We have to get this to the police.” He faced Charlotte and admitted, “I fear that Madame Glass may no longer be with us.” Now aware of the raindrops pelting his head, Edward set the lantern down again. Then he bundled the glass ball and cards in the blanket again before saying, “Can you move the frame? I want to see if there is anything else in here.”
While holding the flickering candle, the girl carefully moved the broken mirror with her other hand. Edward lifted the blanket and placed its contents into the empty spot next to the mirror. Charlotte returned her gaze to the trunk. She saw clothing on the bottom of the strongbox. A blue blouse and a black skirt with ruffles. The memory of her and Betsy before they went into the House of Mirrors blazed into her mind. Wasn’t that what Betsy was wearing?
Feeling light-headed and queasy, she saw Edward pick up the garments. Lying on the bottom of the trunk among slivers of the looking glass, was a single glove and one tarot card. The King of Pentacles.
With the color draining from her face, Charlotte thought, no, it isn’t possible. That can’t be Betsy’s costume. Glancing over, she looked at her reflection in a large, jagged piece of the remaining mirror. There, in the wavering light, she saw two faces. One of them was in shadows. Then a gust of wind and rain extinguished the candle flame.
Behind her, a voice spoke, “Magic Man. Always a meddler.”
Next: The Magician’s Hat No. 2: Part 9-Separation
