Eidolon by Jordan L. Hawk

Author:Jordan L. Hawk
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

V

Not long after, a hansom deposited us in front of the Lester house. An older residence, it obviously dated from colonial times. Dark trees huddled against it, their branches forming a vast net over the roof. The only light came from one of the downstairs windows, shining dimly through drawn curtains. No smoke rose from the chimneys.

Had everyone gone out? Even so, surely some servant should have kept the fires going.

The door opened even as I reached for the heavy, fist-shaped knocker. Miss Lester stood on the other side, dressed in a simple white gown. The candle in her hand cast an almost unearthly glow over her, but failed to bring forth any color from her pallid skin.

“You’re late, Mr. Flaherty,” she said. Her gaze shifted over my shoulder to my companion. “Mr. Whyborne, is it not?”

“Dr. Whyborne these days, Miss Lester.”

“Ah, yes. I remember now. It was quite the scandal when you left for Miskatonic.” Her eyes returned to me. “You have the talisman?”

“Yes.”

“Come with me.”

She led the way inside, and we followed. The house felt no warmer than the street, and my breath steamed in front of my face. How did Miss Lester, clad in only a dress without coat or gloves, stand it? Surely, the mortuary business in Widdershins couldn’t be so poor the family couldn’t afford to heat their home.

She’d worn a coat earlier, when she came to hire me. Had she needed it then, or was it simply camouflage of a sort, meant to keep from arousing too much note when she stepped out on the street?

“You don’t seem concerned about your cousin,” I said. My voice echoed oddly in the confined space of the hall.

“You returned with the talisman, so you either convinced Mr. Nivens to give it to you of his own will, or he is dead,” she replied. “Either state is a satisfactory outcome, I assure you.”

We moved through the narrow hall, the gas jets lining it unlit. The freezing air smelled faintly of cold dirt, underlain with a whiff of formaldehyde. Rooms opened off to either side, but in the shadows, I made out only an impression of bulky furnishings and mirrors shrouded with cloth.

Miss Lester led the way up a sweeping staircase near the center of the house. Up and up, through the three main floors then to a smaller staircase, which surely went to the attic. An iron gate barred the stair.

Miss Lester unlocked it and went through without a backward glance, forcing us to follow. As I’d suspected, the door at the top opened out into an attic room. Rather than being used to house servants or to store excess furniture, the single, enormous room contained only a bed, a shrouded mirror, and a man.

He sat in a wheelchair, his body twisted with age. Thin white hair clung to his scalp in patches with liver-spotted skin visible beneath. He didn’t look up or move at our entrance.

What the hell? How could anyone leave an old man, an invalid,

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