Chapter 16
THE NEVERMORE CHRONICLES
BOOK ONE: BREEDLOVE MANOR
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE STUDY THAT WAS FORGOTTEN
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The words would not leave Beatrice's mind.
Too late.
They followed her through the Library.
They followed her down the corridor.
They followed her even after the heartbeat beneath the floor had stopped.
Nathaniel walked beside her.
Elias followed a few steps behind.
None of them spoke.
Finally, Elias broke the silence.
"We need to go back."
Beatrice looked at him.
"To the room?"
"To the Archives."
Nathaniel nodded.
"He's right."
Beatrice stopped.
"Why?"
"Because Isadora's journal wasn't finished."
She looked at him.
"What makes you think that?"
"The final page."
He held up the black journal.
"Someone added that warning after the rest of the entries were written."
Elias nodded.
"Which means someone else had access to it."
Beatrice looked toward the eastern corridor.
"Someone who knew my mother."
"Or someone who wanted to make sure she never finished writing."
The thought made Beatrice uneasy.
They returned to the Library.
Nathaniel placed the journal on the table.
"We start with the date of the last entry."
Beatrice opened it.
There was no date.
Only a symbol.
The eight-line heart.
Elias examined it.
"I've seen this somewhere else."
"Where?"
"On the map."
He hurried to the map table.
Beatrice and Nathaniel followed.
Elias unrolled the old map of Nevermore Valley.
His finger moved across the parchment.
"There."
A tiny symbol had been drawn near the eastern edge of the valley.
The same heart.
Surrounded by eight lines.
Beatrice frowned.
"That's not the Manor."
"No."
Nathaniel studied the location.
"It's beyond Thornwood Forest."
Elias looked up.
"Then that's where we're going."
Beatrice stared at the map.
"Not yet."
Both brothers looked at her.
"If Isadora found something there, she would have written about it."
Nathaniel nodded.
"So we search first."
They returned to the Archives.
This time they searched every shelf.
Every cabinet.
Every drawer.
Nearly two hours passed before Beatrice found a narrow wooden box hidden behind a row of geography books.
The lid was locked.
The silver key fit perfectly.
Inside were letters.
Dozens.
Most were addressed to Isadora.
The first was dated 1811.
The second, 1812.
The third, 1813.
Then nothing.
Beatrice picked up the final letter.
The envelope was damaged.
The writing on the front was faded.
But the name was clear.
ISADORA VIOLET BREEDLOVE.
She opened it.
The letter contained only a few lines.
You must leave the Manor before the eighth generation awakens.
Do not return.
Do not seek the Heart.
And above all, do not allow your daughter to inherit what was never meant to be hers.
Beatrice lowered the letter.
"My mother was warned."
Nathaniel took the page.
"By whom?"
There was no signature.
Only the symbol.
The eight-line heart.
Elias looked toward the door.
"Someone didn't want her here."
Beatrice shook her head.
"No."
She turned the letter over.
"Someone didn't want me here."
Silence.
Nathaniel looked at her.
"Beatrice."
She pointed to the final sentence.
They read it again.
Do not allow your daughter to inherit what was never meant to be hers.
Elias swallowed.
"Then what is she supposed to inherit?"
Beatrice looked toward the floor.
"The Heart."
The words barely left her lips.
A loud sound came from above.
All three looked up.
Footsteps.
Running.
Someone was moving through the upper hallway.
Nathaniel reached for his sword.
"Stay here."
Beatrice shook her head.
"No."
He looked at her.
"We stay together."
Elias lifted the lantern.
They left the Archives.
The footsteps stopped.
The corridor was empty.
Beatrice looked toward the staircase.
"Whoever was up there is gone."
Nathaniel listened.
"Maybe."
They climbed.
The upper hallway was dark.
A door stood open at the end.
Beatrice frowned.
"That wasn't open before."
They approached cautiously.
Inside was a study.
Dust covered the furniture.
Books lined the walls.
A desk stood beneath the window.
But unlike the other forgotten rooms, this one looked as though someone had left in a hurry.
Papers were scattered across the floor.
A chair lay overturned.
A drawer hung open.
Beatrice stepped inside.
"This was my mother's."
Nathaniel looked around.
"How do you know?"
She didn't answer.
She simply knew.
On the desk was a photograph.
Beatrice picked it up.
Her mother stood in the garden.
Beside her was a woman Beatrice recognized immediately.
Seraphine.
Beatrice's breath caught.
On the back of the photograph was a message.
We were too late.
Beatrice turned the photograph over.
A second line had appeared beneath the first.
But she will not be.
The room went cold.
Elias whispered, "Who's 'she'?"
Beatrice stared at the photograph.
Then she heard it.
A woman's voice.
Not from the walls.
Not from beneath the floor.
From directly behind her.
"You."
Beatrice turned.
No one was there.
The desk drawer suddenly slammed shut.
Nathaniel moved forward.
The floor beneath them trembled.
Then a hidden panel opened beneath the desk.
Inside was a single envelope.
Beatrice reached for it.
Her mother's handwriting covered the front.
For Beatrice.
She opened it.
Only one sentence remained.
If you are reading this, then I failed to keep you away.
Beatrice's eyes filled with tears.
Below it was another line.
Forgive me.
The candle went out.
And somewhere outside the study, a door slammed.
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