Lucy sat on her bed doing needlepoint to pass the time. She'd been
locked in her room since Miss Scuttlebottom exploded at her the evening
before. Now that the sun was setting and Miss Scuttlebottom was off
to bed, Lucy prayed that Mason would find her.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Lucy closed her eyes, walked over to the window, and pushed it open.
Then she walked back to her bed and covered her eyes with a blindfold.
"OK," she whispered.
She heard the scuffling of Mason as he climbed over the sill.
"I take it that you were caught," he said softly.
Lucy nodded. "I'm officially grounded till my father returns and
most likely till our wedding day, should we be able to celebrate it.
If I'm caught out of the house again, I'll be flogged."
"You can't be serious?"
"If there's one thing I've learned about Miss Scuttlebottom,"
Lucy said picturing the woman in her tight moonbeam bun and wire frame
spectacles, "is that she's serious. If there's any way we can move
tonight's ritual indoors, it might be better for both of us."
Mason walked over and hugged her. "I'll get some more wood and
start the fire back up," he whispered in her ear.
Lucy nodded. "Let me know when you're ready for me."
The minutes ticked by slowly, like the last drops of honey being gently
coaxed out of a jar. Mason made clicking noises — which she assumed
was a flint — while she listened for the familiar sawing sounds
in the room next door.
Moments passed and still there was no warmth. Mason kept working diligently,
trying to be quiet. Something thudded against the floor; most likely
a log that Mason was carrying to the fireplace.
The snoring stopped.
Lucy held her breath. The buzzing of the wings was barely audible as
it sounded outside her door, but Lucy knew it was there. She could feel
the housekeeper's eyes staring at her through the wall, daring her to
defy her once again.
Lucy waited.
After what felt like a month of endless nights, the buzzing faded away,
the door closed, and the snoring began anew. Mason moved close to her.
"I don't trust her," he whispered. "I'll close the window,
draw the curtains, and brace the door with a chair so that she can't
barge in if she's not really asleep."
Mason was more careful this time. Lucy barely heard anything as he
worked. Then came the clicking again. Moments later, Lucy began to smell
a hint of apple wood and felt warmth emanating from across the room.
"Success," Mason said as he took her hand and led her down to the floor.
With the fire crackling beside her, once again he kissed her. Visions
of fireberries and phoenixes consumed her. The smells and tastes of
roasted nuts nourished her. The snapping song of the flames popped in
rhythm with the flickering of heat that ravished her body.
Then it was done.
Mason pulled away from her and brought her back to the bed. He told
her what her last task would be, and what to do if she ran into trouble.
"Be brave, my Darling," he said softly as he slipped out
of the room.
Lucy lay on the bed for a few moments after Mason had gone before she
got up to close the window.
"One more night," she whispered. "I only hope that I
have the courage to do what you've asked of me."
