The Mysterious Mr Wylie by Jeannie Wycherley

Author:Jeannie Wycherley [Wycherley, Jeannie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bark at the Moon Books
Published: 2019-04-29T22:00:00+00:00

Seven hours later we were back in Devon. Silvan had been surprisingly easy to persuade to return to the inn with me. I’d shown him to the room he’d stayed in before, it was small and plain, but he seemed to like it. Then I’d offered him some dinner, but he’d insisted he wanted to have a look inside The Throne Room first.

“How interesting,” he’d exclaimed as I followed him in. He poked his head into the gap between the walls and scanned the area, cocking his head and listening. Finally, he pulled out some chalk from his pocket and enclosed the secret space within two semi-circles. He drew a number of symbols between the two lines.

“Take me through to the room next door. Is anyone staying there?”

“No,” I said, showing him the way. “We can’t really use these rooms until we’ve completed the work we started.”

“Lucky for us then.” By feeling the wall on this side, he was able to locate the start and finish of the semi-circles next door and join them up.

We returned to The Throne Room and I watched again, feeling slightly useless as well as curious. He knelt in the gap between the walls in the location where we had discovered the skeleton, then ran his hands lightly around the floor, not touching anything. I watched his fingers quiver in certain places, and then he stood and repeated the process close to the remaining walls and into the cavity above his head.

He dropped into a squat again and began murmuring, speaking the words of a spell I didn’t know or understand. I kept quiet, minding my own business. It wasn’t my place to interfere.

Finally, he finished what he was doing, brought his hands together in a quiet gesture of thanks and stepped out of the circle.

“Interesting.” His black eyes sparkled. “What haven’t you told me?”

“What do you mean?” It wasn’t my intention to be cagey, I just wasn’t sure what he needed to know.

Silvan reached for my arm and pulled me close to the hole in the wall. “Put your hand up,” he said, directing me to hold my hand in mid-air, about six inches in front of the right-hand corner. “What do you feel?”

I ran my palm back and forth without touching the wall. “Nothing,” I said finally, disappointed that I couldn’t sense anything, not in the way that he could.

“Alright.” Silvan pushed my arm down, about three feet above the floorboards. “And now?”

At first, I felt nothing, but then as I moved my hand slightly left and then right again, I sensed it. A slight magickal frisson.

“What is that?”

Silvan knelt next to the hole and I followed suit, my hand following his, creating a trail, like a large rectangle. “It’s a forcefield. I can’t be sure, because the traces are so faint, but I reckon it’s a repellent.”

“To stop people getting into this space?” I asked.

Silvan shrugged. “Perhaps to stop anyone knowing about it.”

“It was so well hidden…”

“Yes. But think about it. This is a public place run by supernaturals.

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