But still …
He shuffled through the files, looking for one in particular. He inhaled sharply when he saw Lucy’s and skipped by it as quickly as possible until he found the one he wanted.
The master of the house.
Arthur Parnassus.
The file was thin, consisting of a blurry photograph of a spindly man against a blue background and a single sheet of paper. He certainly seemed … normal, but appearances could be deceiving.
The file (as much as it could be called that for something so sparse) didn’t tell him much more, as certain parts were redacted and the rest were bits and pieces without rhyme or reason. Aside from learning his age (forty-five) and the fact that his tenure at Marsyas appeared to be without any significant issue, there wasn’t much more Linus could glean from it. He didn’t know whether he was disappointed or relieved.
The sun was beginning to set by the time a bell rang, signaling the arrival at the island. He was lost in thought when the ferry shuddered underneath him, and he looked out the back window to see the ferry gate lowering against a small dock.
A shadow stretched over the windshield as he turned around. “This is where you get off!” a voice shouted at him.
He peered up through the windshield.
Merle stood above him, hands on his hips. “Off,” he repeated.
“But—”
“Get off my damn boat!”
“What an ass,” Linus muttered. The key was still in the ignition, and Linus figured he should at least be thankful for that. He opened the passenger door and almost fell out. He was able to save himself and Calliope at the last second, though she wasn’t appreciative of his acrobatics. He set her on the seat and shut the door against her hissing. He tipped a jaunty salute up to Merle as he rounded the back of the car.
Merle didn’t respond.
“Certainly off to an auspicious start,” Linus said under his breath. The driver’s door creaked as he shut it behind him. It’d been a while since he’d driven. He’d never actually owned a car of his own. It was too much of a hassle in the city. He’d rented one once, years ago, planning on spending a weekend driving out to the country, but he’d been called into work at the last minute and ended up returning the car only an hour after he’d taken it out.
He pushed the seat back before turning the key.
The car rumbled to life around him.
“Okay, then,” Linus said to Calliope, hands sweating against the steering wheel. “Let’s see what we see, shall we?”
FIVE
There were no signs pointing in any direction, but since there was only one road, Linus figured he must be heading the right way. It only took a few minutes of driving away from the ferry landing before he found himself in an old forest, the trees massive, their canopies almost completely blocking out the sky streaked in pinks and oranges. Leafy vines hung from tree limbs, loud birds called from unseen perches.
“I don’t suppose this is some sort of trap?” Linus said to Calliope as it grew darker the deeper into the forest they went. “Maybe this is where everyone goes after they’ve been sacked. They think they’re getting a top assignment, but instead, they get sacrificed in the middle of nowhere.”
It wasn’t a pleasant thought, so he pushed it away.
He couldn’t find the lever for the headlamps, so he leaned forward as close to the windshield as he could get. It was dusk. His stomach rumbled, but he hadn’t felt like eating less in his life. He knew Calliope would probably be looking for a litter box soon, but he didn’t want to stop until he had some idea where he was. His luck would have Calliope running off into the woods, forcing Linus to chase after her.
“And I probably wouldn’t,” he told her. “I’d leave you out here to fend for yourself.”
He wouldn’t, but she didn’t need to know that.
The odometer had turned over two additional miles, and he was about to start panicking—after all, the island couldn’t be that big, could it?—when the forest fell away around him, and he saw it.
There, ahead of him, set against the falling sun, was a house.
Linus had never seen one quite like it before.
It was set up a hill on a cliff overlooking the ocean. It looked as if it were at least a hundred years old. It was made of brick and had a large turret, of all things, set right in the middle of the roof. The side of the house facing Linus was covered in green ivy, growing around multiple white window frames. He thought he could see the outline of a gazebo set off next to the house and wondered if there was a garden. He would like that very much. He could walk through it, smelling the salt in the air and—
He shook his head. He wasn’t here for such things. There would be no time for frivolities. He had a job to do, and he was going to do it right.
He turned the car toward what appeared to be a long driveway that led up to the house. The closer he got, the bigger it grew, and Linus couldn’t be sure how he’d never heard of this place. Oh, not the orphanage, not if Extremely Upper Management didn’t want anyone to know. But surely this island, this house should have been known to him. He wracked his brain, but came up empty.
The driveway widened near the top of the hill. There was another vehicle parked next to an empty fountain, overgrown by the same vines that latched on to the orphanage. It was a red van, surely big enough for six children and the master of the house. He wondered if they took many trips. Not into the village, of course, not if the people there weren’t inviting.
But as he got closer, he saw the van appeared not to have been moved in some time. Weeds grew up through the wheel wells.
It appeared they didn’t take many trips, if any at all.
For a moment, Linus felt a pang, something akin to sorrow. He rubbed a hand against his chest, trying to chase it away.
He’d been right, though. There was a garden. The last rays of sun seemed to be illuminating the flowers to the side of the house, and Linus blinked when he thought he saw movement, a quick flash before it was gone.
He rolled down the window a smidge, just enough to be heard.
“Hello?” he called.
There was no answer.
Feeling slightly braver, he rolled the window down halfway. The thick scent of the ocean filled his nose. Leaves rustled on the branches of the trees. “Hello?”
Nothing.
“Right,” he said. “Well. Perhaps we can just stay in here until tomorrow.”
And then he heard the unmistakable giggle of a child.
“Or maybe we should leave,” he said weakly.
Calliope scratched the front of the crate.
“I know, I know. But there appears to be something out there, and I don’t know if either of us wants to be eaten.”
She scratched again.
He sighed. She’d been good for the most part. The trip had been long, and it wasn’t fair of him to leave her cooped up.
“Fine. But you will be quiet while I sit here and think and try to ignore childlike laughter coming from the strange house so very far away from everything I know.”
She didn’t put up a fight when he opened the crate and pulled her into his lap. She sat regally, staring out the window, eyes wide. She didn’t make a sound when he stroked her back.
“All right,” Linus said. “Let’s review, shall we? I can either do what I was sent here to do, or I can sit here and hope a better idea comes to me, preferably where I keep all my bits and bobs as they are.”