A Shining Path by L S Johnson

Author:L S Johnson [Johnson, L S]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, Historical, Gothic, Romance, Lgbtq+, Lesbian
ISBN: 9798985797213
Google: kRP4zgEACAAJ
Amazon: B09TNF59ZG
Publisher: Traversing Z Press
Published: 2022-03-13T22:00:00+00:00

We washed our dishes in the kitchen under the watchful eye of Madame Viart, the cook, a boy chopping vegetables, and a girl whose one job seemed to be stirring a large pot without cease. All three welcomed us to Arcadia and thanked us for helping out. “If you’re looking for work, don’t hesitate to ask,” the cook said over his shoulder.

Afterwards Madame Viart took us into a narrow, cool pantry with several crates stacked haphazardly. We opened one and began shelving packets of tea. Madame Viart peeked back through the doorway, then said in a low voice, “We must be careful. Many here visit with that woman.”

I thought of the white-clad figure atop the tower and shuddered. “What is the meaning of the map?” I whispered, while at the same time Jo asked, “Do you know what she intends?”

“She came some days ago and said we were to hang the map, something about how it is our destiny, she wants us all to see it,” Madame Viart replied with a shrug. “They humor her because she gives them land for free, and then behind her back they worry she’s getting old.” She tapped her forehead. “You know of the fête tomorrow? I heard a few of the others saying she wants sacrifices, only they think she means chickens, or perhaps a sheep.” Another slit-eyed look, this one in the direction of the cook. “That one thinks it’s a funny peasant thing. ‘My grandmama killed rabbits for the forest spirits, she threw fish back in the rivers, it’s just old ladies and their foolishness.’”

I looked at Jo, alarmed, but before we could confer, Madame Viart grabbed my arm. “I want off this damn island. Stanley suspects me, I know it. I want to see Francis! You must take me to him.”

The blue eyes were welling, the rosy cheeks deepening in color. Jo, however, simply said, “Hush. He’s not here and he’s not coming. You will have to make do with us. Can you—”

“Not coming?” She looked from myself to Jo and back. “You’re lying! He promised he would join me here, he’s never broken his word.”

“He was injured, Madame,” I said as calmly as I could, but my words still elicited a squawk of fright. “He will recover completely, I promise,” I added hurriedly before she could speak. “Only he’s not yet strong enough to travel.”

“Then you must get me out of here,” she retorted. “You owe me—”

Before she could complete the dreaded phrase, Jo hissed us into silence while she peeked outside the pantry. My stomach was knotting—if Madame Viart called in that debt now—oh why hadn’t I told Jo before this?

“Just that kitchen lad,” Jo said. “Now look, Madame. We will all get out of here if we work together. Can you get a message out?”

“I send my messages back on the ships, only this one won’t sail until Monday.” She made a little sobbing noise. “My poor Francis! Though perhaps it’s for the best … my beauty is already ruined, no one even has hair oil here.

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