Sisters of the Binding: Unexpected Discovery
Keira's 4th Chapter in the Saga
Sam balanced the knife on the tip of her finger, its blade gleaming with menace beneath the sterile lights of the coffee shop. The move felt daring, an unspoken challenge she had leveled at herself more than at Lilly. Sam nodded, her voice echoing doubt. "You really want to see that place?"
“I’m dying to go to the manor!” Lilly said, her eyes bright with excitement. “Do you think it’s haunted?”
Sam laughed, the sound tight. “I’m sure Patricia’s told her share of ghost stories.”
Lilly’s face lit up even more. “It’ll be so cool! Maybe she’ll let us into the basement where you got lost.”
Sam shook her head, her mouth twitching with the beginnings of a smile. “Pretty sure that’s not part of the tour.” Her hesitation still lingered, gnawing at the edge of her resolve.
“Aw, come on,” Lilly urged, reaching across the table to nudge Sam’s arm. “What if we get a private tour? Can you still get lost with your know-it-all-ness?”
“Maybe,” Sam said, this time more playful. “But you can find me, right?” She looked into her coffee, stirring her doubts along with the bitter brew.
"Yeah, and you know deep down you love that place. It's an adventure waiting to unfold," Lilly declared, confident and unshakeable.
“An adventure,” Sam echoed, wondering how to unravel the tangled threads of her excitement and fear.
She heard her mother's voice, like a whisper from the past, weaving tales of the enigmatic manor. "Mom was fascinated with that place," Sam said after a long silence, more to herself than to Lilly. "She couldn't stop talking about it."
“Exactly!” Lilly leaned forward, sensing victory. “Now it’s our turn to see what’s inside.”
Sam shifted in her seat, knowing she’d lost this battle before it even began. “Guess it is,” she admitted.
Lilly grinned, a flash of triumph in her youthful eyes. “Let’s go as soon as we’re done here.”
“Alright, alright,” Sam relented, the undertone of doubt still in her words. She watched Lilly, wondering at her own resistance, knowing it ran deeper than a simple tour.
“ Patricia Abernathy runs the place now,” Sam said, attempting to match Lilly's enthusiasm. “She’s a bit theatrical but knows her history.”
“Theatrical?” Lilly asked, curiosity piqued. “How do you mean?”
Sam pictured the woman, her elaborate costumes and dramatic flair. “Let’s just say she’s got a flair for storytelling. Might even throw in some Latin.”
“Sounds perfect,” Lilly said, unphased.
“We’ll see,” Sam replied, still unsure. She clipped the knife to her belt, the motion quick and reassuring.
Lilly picked at her doughnut, watching Sam as if waiting for a change of heart. “You’re excited, right?” she prodded, though she knew the answer.
“Yeah,” Sam said, her voice colored by hesitation. “Something like that.”
The coffee shop buzzed around them, a comforting hum that belied the tension between excitement and unease. Sam pushed her empty mug to the side, gathering her resolve as Lilly’s anticipation fueled the moment. She pulled her wallet from her bag, leaving a large tip.
Lilly bounced in her seat, already half out of the booth. “I’ve got the Jeep keys,” she teased, knowing Sam’s cautious pace. She picked them up and held them high.
“You drive,” Sam said, a wry smile creeping in. “I’ll be the navigator this time.”
“Can you navigate to 1863?” Lilly joked, her words playful but edged with an understanding of Sam’s complex emotions.
“Depends,” Sam replied, “does 1863 have a maps app?”
They stood, Lilly’s enthusiasm a bright contrast to Sam’s shadowed thoughts. Together, they left the table, Sam lagging just a step behind as Lilly led the way to the door.
“Hey!” Lilly called back, seeing Sam linger near the doorway. “What are you waiting for? A private tour?”
“Let’s not get too lost, alright?” Sam said, she was getting tired of the almost constant rain.
She followed Lilly toward the Jeep, their footsteps merging with the sound of rain against pavement. Together they went, one eager, one reluctant, both aware of the work that still needed to be done at the bookstore.
***
The mist crept like something alive, curling and twisting as it bled from the trees and into the street. Lilly was leaning forward in the drivers seat, impatient for a glimpse of the legendary mansion. The drive to Ravencrest was short, but Sam felt it stretch under the weight of memories that clung to the air like ghosts. The Victorian manor rose in the distance, a pale giant with a watchful gaze, looming against the bleak sky. Lilly parked in the small visitor lot, darkness pooling like rainwater beneath the shadowed turrets.
Lilly buzzed with anticipation, her eyes wide and eager. “Do you think they’ll let us in early?” she asked, unbuckling her seatbelt.
“Come on!” Lilly urged, already halfway out of the car. “Let’s go!”
Sam hesitated, the manor felt alive, like it was breathing. She looked at Lilly, her carefree spirit so unlike Sam’s own heavy-heartedness. “You go ahead,” Sam said, though she knew she wouldn’t stay behind.
Patricia Abernathy’s voice rang out before they even reached the steps, its cultivated Southern drawl slicing through the morning air. “Welcome to Ravencrest Manor, ladies! You're just in time for the eleven o'clock tour.” Her words were warm but calculated, like the smiles she wore for the tourists who strayed into her domain.
Sam and Lilly exchanged a look, surprised by the dramatic greeting. Patricia’s presence was as commanding as the house itself. She stood in full period costume, a Victorian dress hugging her short frame, vintage glasses perched on her nose. Her graying black hair was styled with meticulous precision, the elegance at odds with the unbridled energy she exuded.
“Is she always like this?” Lilly whispered, her eyes dancing with amusement.
“Like I said, theatrical,” Sam replied, though she found herself caught up in the spectacle despite her reservations.
Patricia gestured with white-gloved hands, directing them toward the entrance with a flourish. “Do come in! It’s not every day we get such eager visitors.” Her enthusiasm bordered on theatricality, but there was a genuine quality beneath her practiced demeanor.
Lilly trailed after Patricia, captivated by the eccentric woman's charm. Sam stayed back, attempting to absorb the scene—it had been some time since she'd experienced this.
“Right this way!” Patricia called, beckoning them both forward. Her cultivated accent and period attire set the tone, turning the visit into something more than Sam had bargained for.
Sam stepped over the threshold, the air inside warm but also smelled slightly metallic. Patricia’s words continued to flow, punctuating the grandeur of the space around them.
Sam paused, glancing back at the heavy wooden doors as they closed with an ominous thud. The sound reverberated through the entryway, settling around her like an unsettling promise. She watched Lilly bound ahead, the thrill of discovery shining in her eyes.
“It’s like stepping back in time,” Lilly marveled, her voice echoing off the high ceilings.
Sam nodded, "Yeah, its like a national treasure.”
The history and secrets of Ravencrest Manor loomed around them, vast and unyielding. She felt the pull of it, her scholarly curiosity at odds with the shadows of doubt that stretched across her heart.
Patricia’s voice unfolded like the mansion’s winding halls, dipping and curling through time. Her tour was a carefully orchestrated dance, each step landing with practiced elegance. “Emil Ravencrest built this magnificent home in 1863,” she announced, gesturing with her arms in a sweeping motion. Sam recognized the switch to her "historical voice," the words as familiar as the dust motes that floated in the grand foyer's muted light. The tour moved through opulent rooms, Patricia's dramatic flair painting each corner with stories both vivid and suspect. Sam felt the tug of truth beneath the exaggerations and followed, her curiosity bristling.
The grand foyer was expansive, its sweeping staircase curling like a ribbon toward the upper floors. Crystal chandeliers hung overhead, their brilliance tarnished by age but no less captivating. Lilly stared up at them, her eyes wide with wonder.
“Imagine having this place all to yourself,” she whispered, more to herself than to Sam.
“Quite the place to get lost,” Sam replied, her tone half-joking but shadowed by memory.
Patricia continued, her voice rising with enthusiasm. “Emil’s vision was to create a home that reflected his status and genius. This very foyer has seen some of the most illustrious figures of the time.” She paused for effect, her eyes sweeping over her audience with satisfaction.
They moved from the foyer to the formal dining room, the space a museum of Victorian opulence. The original china was still displayed, its intricate patterns a testament to craftsmanship and care.
“Isn’t it exquisite?” Patricia asked, her voice wrapping around the word like a ribbon. “This table has hosted diplomats, inventors, and maybe even a few scoundrels.”
Sam examined the room with a mix of admiration and skepticism. “Is that what they’re calling politicians these days?” she murmured, just loud enough for Lilly to hear.
Lilly stifled a laugh, the sound catching Patricia’s attention. She smiled, undeterred, and continued the tour with undiminished flair.
“The Ravencrests were known for their hospitality, though it was sometimes said to mask darker interests,” Patricia hinted, her tone conspiratorial. She led them into the library, its walls lined with leather-bound volumes. Sam’s eyes lingered on the books, her fingers itching to explore.
“Looks like heaven to you,” Lilly whispered, nudging Sam with a grin.
“Almost,” Sam replied, a spark of genuine interest lighting her features.
Patricia gestured to the library, her arms sweeping with dramatic flourish. “This was Emil’s sanctuary. Here, he pursued his inventions and his more... esoteric studies.”
Sam noted the hesitation in Patricia’s voice, sensing the juicy embellishments. “Esoteric, huh?” she said, arching an eyebrow. “I thought those were just rumors.”
Patricia chuckled, her laugh light but rehearsed. “Rumors and history often intertwine in fascinating ways.” Her response was polished, like an actor delivering a well-worn line.
They moved to the east wing, the hallway wide and echoing with the whisper of their footsteps. Lilly clung to every word, the mansion's mysteries unfolding in her imagination with each of Patricia's calculated revelations.
They paused before a large family portrait, the figures almost lifelike in their detail. Emil stood with his two children, their expressions solemn yet defiant. Sam studied the painting, noting the uncanny way Emil’s eyes seemed to follow them.
“After his wife’s tragic passing, Emil raised his children here alone,” Patricia intoned, her voice a careful blend of sympathy and intrigue. "A task whose weight compounded day by day as his obsessions grew."
Lilly shivered, rubbing her arms as they moved past a pocket of cold air in the hallway.
“Did you feel that?” she asked Sam, her voice hushed with a trace of excitement.
“Drafty old houses,” Sam replied, though she felt the chill settle into her bones. The history of the place seemed more tangible than ever, a living presence that pressed in on her.
They followed Patricia through the rest of the tour, her narrative weaving together fact and embellishment with artful precision. Sam listened with a mix of skepticism and fascination, the scholar in her resisting the urge to question every detail.
Lilly’s enthusiasm was infectious, her wonder at the house’s grandeur barely contained. The tour wound through rooms filled with inventions, artifacts, and atmosphere, each one steeped in stories that resonated with both mystery and familiarity.
Patricia concluded the tour in the gift shop, her voice switching seamlessly back to its everyday cadence. “Thank you for joining me on this journey through history. Any questions before you go?”
Sam shook her head, still processing the swirl of information and impressions.
“We’ve got plenty of mementos,” Patricia said, gesturing to the shelves stocked with souvenirs. “Why not take a piece of Ravencrest home?” Her words were less sales pitch and more gentle persuasion, reflecting her vested interest in the manor’s legacy.
Sam glanced at Lilly, who was already browsing the selection with keen interest. She picked up a small guidebook, the title embossed in elegant gold letters.
“Can I get this?” Lilly asked, her tone a mix of excitement and determination.
“Sure,” Sam said, her voice softening. “Anything to keep you out of the basement.”
They purchased the guidebook, Lilly clutching it like a new-found treasure. As they left, Sam felt the weight of the tour settle over her, the history both vivid and uncertain in her mind.
They stepped outside, the rain reduced to a light drizzle. Sam adjusted her glasses, her mind a whirl of questions and half-formed theories. The visit had stirred more than memories; it awakened a curiosity she hadn’t felt in years.
“This was amazing!” Lilly declared, the words spilling out in a rush. “There’s so much to explore!”
“More than I thought,” Sam admitted, the admission carrying both awe and reservation.
They made their way to the car, the mansion’s imposing structure fading behind them. Sam watched it grow smaller, a pale shadow on the horizon, knowing that its secrets were far from uncovered.
***
The bell above The Dusty Gnome's door was like a tinny exclamation, announcing Sam and Lilly's return from Ravencrest's storied halls. The bookstore felt both smaller and warmer, its worn shelves a stark contrast to the manor's grandeur. Hank was at the counter, his hands a network of restless energy as he rubbed his temples. "How was your morning?" he asked, the words escaping with an unsteady breath. His attempt at a smile faltered, weighed down by an invisible burden. Sam saw the fragility beneath his usual stoic facade, a testament to time and unspoken worry.
Lilly grinned, still fueled by the thrill of the tour. “It was amazing,” she said, her voice bright and youthful. “Ravencrest is so huge, it’s like a different world!”
Sam noted Hank’s slight wince as he adjusted his posture. “Patricia was in rare form,” she added, her tone more subdued. “She gave us the deluxe version.”
Hank chuckled, though it came out more like a sigh. “That gal can spin a yarn. Not as well as Jill could, but pretty close.” His eyes drifted over the cluttered store, and Sam saw the weight of thirty years settle on his shoulders.
Lilly's gaze was direct, concern underlying her curiosity. “What are you going to do after retirement?” she asked, trying to keep her voice light.
Hank hesitated, the moment stretched between them like the dust-coated aisles. He exhaled, the sound of it thin and tired. “Doctor says my heart can’t take the stress anymore,” he admitted, gesturing vaguely at the books that surrounded him like old companions. “Wants me to slow down.”
Sam watched him, his admission echoing in the space between them. The once sturdy presence now seemed brittle, as if a single word might break him.
Lilly’s eyes widened with concern. “I had no idea it was that serious,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper.
“Should have seen it coming,” Hank replied, attempting a rueful smile. “Amara always warned me.” His gaze flickered to Sam, seeking understanding in her eyes.
Sam felt the heaviness of it all, her own uncertainty mirrored in Hank’s weary demeanor. “I guess it runs in the family,” she said softly, thinking of all the burdens they both struggled to bear.
Hank looked at them, his expression a mix of affection and resignation. “Don’t you worry,” he said, though the words lacked conviction. “I’ve got more life left in me than the doc thinks.”
Lilly nodded, her youthful optimism masking the concern that lingered beneath. “We’ll help with whatever you need,” she promised. “Won’t we, Sam?”
“Of course,” Sam said, her commitment to both Hank and their task tinged with doubt. She felt the pressure of the past and the future closing in, a claustrophobic sense of too much and not enough.
“Jill would be glad you came back,” he said, the words weighted with memories.
Sam swallowed, unsure of how to respond. “I hope so,” she replied.
Hank straightened, a visible effort to regain his composure. He rubbed his temples again, his fingers revealed a slight tremble. “Those boxes won’t fill themselves,” he said, his tone attempting cheerfulness.
Lilly picked up on his cue, trying to lighten the mood. “Let’s do it! The sooner we start, the sooner we’re done.”
Sam nodded, though the task felt more daunting than ever. She watched Hank closely, seeing the mask slip for a moment before he recovered. The store felt different now, its familiar comfort tinged with reality.
They followed Hank to the storeroom, his steps more deliberate than they remembered. He showed them the boxes and packing materials, gesturing to the stacks of books that waited like silent witnesses. “Have fun,” he said, the phrase both a command and a plea.
Sam and Lilly watched him retreat to the front of the store, his silhouette framed by the jumble of unsorted shelves.
The sisters turned to the task at hand, their movements more measured than the day before. Sam handled each book with care, her mind spinning with thoughts of Hank, the store, and the path that lay ahead. Lilly worked beside her, her earlier enthusiasm now tempered by concern for Hank and the realization of what their trip really meant.
The room filled with the sound of cardboard flaps and the rustle of packing materials, a symphony of purpose and hesitation. Sam felt the hours stretch out before them, the weight of every decision pressing down like the dust that settled on their shoulders. They boxed in silence, their unspoken questions filling the spaces where words should have been.
Shafts of gray light filtered through grimy windows, painting the sisters in a multitude of shades as they worked. Books passed from shelf to box, a steady stream that broke only for the occasional sneeze. Sam moved through the task with methodical care, her hands grazing the past with each title. Reaching for a stack on a high shelf, she felt something strange, like raised wood or something along the wall. "Lilly, hand me that stepladder," she said, curiosity flaring.
“What is it?” Lilly asked, watching Sam with interest.
“Something doesn’t feel right,” Sam replied, her scholarly mind racing with possibilities. She climbed the stepladder, her fingers tracing the outline of the wall. Beneath the layers of dust, she found a loose panel, its edges disappearing into the surrounding texture.
“Did you know this was here?” Lilly asked, her voice tinged with excitement.
“No,” Sam said, her heart quickening. “I think Mom hid something.” She pried at the panel, her breath catching as it came away to reveal a small hidden compartment.
Inside lay an item swathed in a dark cloth adorned with unusual patterns. Sam's fingers worked with delicate precision as she unwrapped the enigmatic object while Lilly observed with anticipation. It revealed a solitary leather-bound book, its cover embossed with a detailed crest that Sam recognized instantly.
“Wow,” Lilly said, her eyes wide as she stared at the unexpected discovery. “What do you think it is?”
“I don’t know,” Sam admitted, her curiosity blazing. She examined the tome, noting the brass fittings that reinforced its spine and the unusual lock mechanism that secured it shut. Gears and buttons formed a complex array, a puzzle as enigmatic as the house it probably came from.
“Is that the Ravencrest family crest?” Lilly asked, pointing to the cover. “Ravencrest family crest, say that five times fast,” Lilly chuckled.
Sam glanced at Lilly and smiled, but then once again returned her attention to the book. “Yes,” Sam said, her voice hushed. “And I think it’s more than just a book.”
Lilly watched Sam, concern etching her features as she considered the implications. “You don’t think it’s dangerous, do you?” she asked, remembering Patricia’s tales of Emil’s obsession.
“Only one way to find out,” Sam replied, her resolve firming despite the questions that crowded her mind. She ran her fingers over the embossed design, feeling the pull of the past and the lure of a mystery too enticing to resist.
“What about Hank?” Lilly asked, glancing toward the front of the store where his silhouette was visible through the doorway. “Are you going to show him?”
“Not yet,” Sam said, a plan forming. “I need to figure out what this is first.” Her scholarly instincts took over, drowning out her doubts.
She tucked the tome into her messenger bag, the act both cautious and determined. Lilly watched her, the weight of the decision settling between them.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Lilly said, though there was a hint of admiration in her voice.
“Me too,” Sam replied, the admission both honest and loaded with uncertainty.
They continued boxing the remaining books in the back, their focus split between the task and the discovery that consumed their thoughts. Hank returned briefly, checking on their progress but missing the secret that lay hidden in Sam’s bag.
“You’re making good headway,” he said, the strain in his voice betraying his casual words.
Sam nodded, her mind elsewhere. “Almost done,” she said, knowing that her real work had only just begun.
“Don’t overdo it,” he advised, his eyes softening with both affection and worry. He retreated to the front, leaving them alone with the jumble of books and the even messier tangle of emotions.
The sisters finished boxing the last of the books, their pace quickening as their excitement about the tome built. Sam felt the pulse of discovery in her veins, a reminder of why she’d been drawn back to Peachtree Hollow in the first place.
They gathered their things, the anticipation almost too much to bear. Sam adjusted her glasses, the movement automatic but steadying. “Let’s go,” she said, her voice filled with a mix of urgency and determination.
Lilly nodded, a conspiratorial smile tugging at her lips. They slipped out of the back room, the air buzzing with questions that hung unanswered in their wake.
“Bye Hank,” Sam said, as she headed for the door.
“Leaving already? Well I suppose I could close up early and head home also.” Hank said standing up from his chair at the front desk.
The bell above the door announced their departure, its tinny ring a promise of more discoveries to come. Sam clutched her bag, the tome a heavy presence at her side. The afternoon had slipped away from them, taking with it the clarity Sam so desperately sought.
They drove through Peachtree Hollow’s rain-soaked streets, the humidity clinging to them. Sam felt a surge of anticipation, the mystery unfolding before her in ways she hadn’t expected.
White Peach Dawn appeared on the horizon, a welcoming beacon of warmth against the dreary backdrop of the day. They hurried inside, eager to examine the tome and the secrets it held.
“Think you can open it?” Lilly asked, her excitement palpable.
“Maybe,” Sam said, her eyes gleaming with determination. “We’re about to find out.”