Chapter 62 Where the Bell Remembers

The last echo of the bell had barely faded when Blackmere slowly began to breathe again.

A door opened.

Then another.

A woman stepped from a cottage across the road and looked toward the bell tower before disappearing inside again. Somewhere nearby, a child whispered something to his mother.

No one laughed.

No one spoke loudly.

Mara Bell watched the tower as though waiting for it to make another sound.

Beatrice stood beside Nathaniel and Elias, her hands folded before her.

“What happens now?” Elias asked.

Mara looked at him.

“Usually?”

“Yes.”

“Usually, nothing.”

Nathaniel frowned.

“And tonight?”

Mara's eyes moved toward Beatrice.

“Tonight is different.”

Beatrice felt the familiar chill return.

“I did not ask the bell to ring.”

“I know.”

“Then why did it?”

Mara gave a quiet sigh.

“That is what my family has been trying to understand for nearly a hundred years.”

Silas Reed approached from the shop carrying a lantern.

“Mara, the rooms are ready.”

“Thank you, Silas.”

He looked toward the travellers.

“The innkeeper has supper waiting.”

Elias smiled.

“Then perhaps the bell has done us one kindness.”

Silas almost smiled.

“Perhaps.”

They followed him through the village.

Blackmere was different now.

The afternoon warmth had faded, replaced by the coolness of approaching evening. Lamps glowed behind windows, and the smell of woodsmoke drifted through the narrow streets.

The village itself seemed ordinary again.

That almost made Beatrice more uneasy.

At the inn, they were given a private room near the back.

It was modest but comfortable.

A fire burned in the hearth.

A table had been prepared with bread, soup, roasted vegetables, and a small dish of preserved apples.

Beatrice sat beside the fire while Nathaniel and Elias spoke quietly with Silas.

Mara remained standing near the doorway.

“You know something,” Beatrice said.

Mara looked at her.

“Yes.”

“What?”

“The bell has a keeper.”

Beatrice frowned.

“You are the keeper.”

“Of the tower.”

Mara touched the old key hanging from a cord around her neck.

“The bell is something else.”

Silas shifted uncomfortably.

“Mara.”

“She deserves to know.”

Nathaniel turned.

“Know what?”

Mara looked at all three of them.

“My grandmother told me that the bell does not ring for the living.”

The room became very still.

Elias raised an eyebrow.

“That is rather concerning.”

“It does not mean what you think.”

Mara crossed to the window.

“It rings when something remembered needs to be heard.”

Beatrice looked toward the darkness beyond the glass.

“And what does it remember?”

Mara did not answer.

Instead, she reached into the pocket of her dress and removed a small folded piece of cloth.

She placed it on the table.

Beatrice carefully unfolded it.

Inside was a narrow piece of parchment.

Old.

Yellowed.

The writing had faded with time.

Nathaniel leaned closer.

“What is this?”

“My family kept it hidden beneath the bell mechanism.”

Elias studied the handwriting.

“This is old.”

“Very.”

Beatrice looked down.

There were only a few lines.

She read them silently.

Then stopped.

Nathaniel noticed.

“What does it say?”

Beatrice's fingers tightened around the parchment.

“It mentions the old road.”

Mara nodded.

“And?”

Beatrice swallowed.

“It says the road will one day carry three travellers to Blackmere.”

Silence filled the room.

Elias looked at Nathaniel.

Nathaniel looked at Beatrice.

“Three,” Elias whispered.

Mara nodded.

“It was written long before any of you were born.”

Beatrice read the final line again.

Her heart began to beat faster.

“What does this name mean?”

Mara looked at the parchment.

Then at Beatrice.

“I was hoping you would tell me.”

Beatrice slowly turned the parchment around.

At the bottom, beneath the faded writing, was a single name.

Breedlove.

Nathaniel stood.

Elias moved closer.

Beatrice stared at the word until the letters seemed to blur.

“My family knew about Blackmere?”

“Perhaps,” Mara said.

“Perhaps?”

“My family kept the parchment. We never knew who wrote it.”

A deep sound rolled across the village.

The bell.

Once.

Beatrice stood so quickly that her chair scraped against the floor.

Nathaniel reached for her arm.

“Wait.”

But another note sounded.

This one seemed closer.

Not louder.

Closer.

Beatrice looked toward the window.

The bell tower stood against the darkening sky.

Its upper chamber was empty.

No figure stood beside the bell.

Yet the rope hanging beneath it was moving.

Slowly.

Back and forth.

As though an unseen hand had just released it.

Elias whispered, “We should go.”

Nathaniel nodded.

Mara picked up her lantern.

“Then we go together.”

They crossed the village beneath the first stars of evening.

No one stopped them.

No one asked where they were going.

It seemed Blackmere already knew.

Inside the tower, the air was colder.

The narrow staircase curved upward through the stone.

Beatrice followed Mara, with Nathaniel directly behind her and Elias bringing up the rear.

At the top, they entered the bell chamber.

The great iron bell hung silently above them.

The rope had stopped moving.

Mara lifted her lantern.

“There.”

Beatrice followed the light.

Carved into the stone beneath the bell was a small symbol.

A raven.

Her breath caught.

Nathaniel stepped beside her.

“You recognize it.”

“Yes.”

Elias examined the carving.

“Is that the same mark?”

Beatrice nodded.

“But older.”

Mara stared at the symbol.

“My family never knew what it meant.”

Beatrice reached toward it.

The instant her fingers touched the stone, the bell rang.

Not once.

Not twice.

Three times.

The sound rolled through Blackmere and disappeared into the night.

Then the carving beneath Beatrice's hand warmed.

A faint line of light appeared across the stone.

Beatrice pulled her hand away.

Nathaniel caught her before she stumbled.

“Beatrice.”

“I am all right.”

She looked at the carving.

The light faded.

But something remained.

A single word had appeared beneath the raven.

Veymont.

Beatrice could not breathe for a moment.

Elias saw the name.

Nathaniel did too.

Neither spoke.

Mara looked from the word to Beatrice.

“You know it.”

Beatrice slowly nodded.

“Yes.”

Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

“I know it.”

Outside, the bell gave one final, gentle sound.

And this time, Beatrice understood.

It had not been calling them to Blackmere.

It had been waiting for her to arrive.