smash it to bits first.”
She pushed the box lid back into its place and Ambrose helped her reposition the stone in front.
“The police may not destroy it,” he said. “Mr. Granger can demand what he likes, but they may not be a pack of destructive brutes, as you fear.”
“Then they would summon whoever runs the local mechanical shop. Then, when he cannot make heads or tails of the creature, they might send it to someone in Bristol or Exeter or maybe London. And then, it would rot in a box in the police evidence warehouse, or in some attic of a mechanical shop where no one understands it. Our only hope is that it might be sent to a university somewhere, where someone could work out how it operates.”
“Even then …”
“Yes,” she sighed. “It could take years. We would never hear of it.”
“You are the only person in all of Britain that could decipher the thing, aren’t you?”
She glanced at him, but his eyes were far of in the distance, where the shadows were lengthening and the wind was blowing the grass into undulating waves.
“I suppose that is why I must find it first.”
Chapter 14
C hloe balanced on the library ladder, her arm outstretched and fingers straining to reach the book. Just a few more inches, and it would be hers. She climbed up a step and held on with one hand, repositioning herself for another try. She balanced on one foot, the other dangling in air and stretched.
She would rather not ask a servant to fetch the book. Something told her that she was already the topic of enough household disapproval without showing undue curiosity about the area. As a family guest, she would be expected to take a few walks through the garden, daily ones if she liked. If accompanied, she could take walks around the nearby countryside. But going further out into the wilderness, especially with a killer on the loose, crossed the line from merely eccentric into the bizarre.
The library was well-stocked, though it appeared largely unused. She had noted that the tops of most of the books were dusty, especially the higher ones, where she was dangling now. The blasted ladder only rolled so far on its track, and the far end of the bookshelf was reachable only by the tall. Chloe was built like a teapot, which, under other circumstances was not so inconvenient.
Her fingers brushed the top of the atlas, but she could not pull it out. She found if she pulled closer volumes out, her desired book, A Dartmoor Companion , leaned closer. She did so, and at last, she had it in her hands. She arranged the other books back on their shelf and climbed down the ladder.
She turned to leave when footsteps sounded in the hallway and the library door swung open. She was still in the corner of the room, so the door blocked her view of the new arrivals.
“—for Harvest Home?” asked a young female voice.
“In three days at sundown. Same circle as the last time,” said a woman’s voice.
“Will Granger be there?”
“No reason for him not to be.”
They moved into the room and one of them pushed the door shut behind them. Mrs. Block, the housekeeper, froze for an instant upon spotting Chloe, but then nodded and moved aside as Chloe passed. The girl beside her looked horrified, but a moment later, her face became expressionless. Both of them had the same straight, dainty nose and red hair, although Mrs. Block’s was mostly gray. Chloe guessed they were aunt and niece.
Chloe went to her room and seated herself by the window where Giles sat on the windowsill. She flipped through map after map of the cities of Dartmoor: Princetown, Two Bridges, and the nearest, Farnbridge. The book was twenty years old, and the few streets she had seen had in town boasted far more shops than were shown here. Also, there was no airship station on these maps. But that was less important than finding likely hiding places for the hound.
There was a knock at the door. Chloe sighed, set aside her book and answered. Beatrice stood
She pushed the box lid back into its place and Ambrose helped her reposition the stone in front.
“The police may not destroy it,” he said. “Mr. Granger can demand what he likes, but they may not be a pack of destructive brutes, as you fear.”
“Then they would summon whoever runs the local mechanical shop. Then, when he cannot make heads or tails of the creature, they might send it to someone in Bristol or Exeter or maybe London. And then, it would rot in a box in the police evidence warehouse, or in some attic of a mechanical shop where no one understands it. Our only hope is that it might be sent to a university somewhere, where someone could work out how it operates.”
“Even then …”
“Yes,” she sighed. “It could take years. We would never hear of it.”
“You are the only person in all of Britain that could decipher the thing, aren’t you?”
She glanced at him, but his eyes were far of in the distance, where the shadows were lengthening and the wind was blowing the grass into undulating waves.
“I suppose that is why I must find it first.”
Chapter 14
C hloe balanced on the library ladder, her arm outstretched and fingers straining to reach the book. Just a few more inches, and it would be hers. She climbed up a step and held on with one hand, repositioning herself for another try. She balanced on one foot, the other dangling in air and stretched.
She would rather not ask a servant to fetch the book. Something told her that she was already the topic of enough household disapproval without showing undue curiosity about the area. As a family guest, she would be expected to take a few walks through the garden, daily ones if she liked. If accompanied, she could take walks around the nearby countryside. But going further out into the wilderness, especially with a killer on the loose, crossed the line from merely eccentric into the bizarre.
The library was well-stocked, though it appeared largely unused. She had noted that the tops of most of the books were dusty, especially the higher ones, where she was dangling now. The blasted ladder only rolled so far on its track, and the far end of the bookshelf was reachable only by the tall. Chloe was built like a teapot, which, under other circumstances was not so inconvenient.
Her fingers brushed the top of the atlas, but she could not pull it out. She found if she pulled closer volumes out, her desired book, A Dartmoor Companion , leaned closer. She did so, and at last, she had it in her hands. She arranged the other books back on their shelf and climbed down the ladder.
She turned to leave when footsteps sounded in the hallway and the library door swung open. She was still in the corner of the room, so the door blocked her view of the new arrivals.
“—for Harvest Home?” asked a young female voice.
“In three days at sundown. Same circle as the last time,” said a woman’s voice.
“Will Granger be there?”
“No reason for him not to be.”
They moved into the room and one of them pushed the door shut behind them. Mrs. Block, the housekeeper, froze for an instant upon spotting Chloe, but then nodded and moved aside as Chloe passed. The girl beside her looked horrified, but a moment later, her face became expressionless. Both of them had the same straight, dainty nose and red hair, although Mrs. Block’s was mostly gray. Chloe guessed they were aunt and niece.
Chloe went to her room and seated herself by the window where Giles sat on the windowsill. She flipped through map after map of the cities of Dartmoor: Princetown, Two Bridges, and the nearest, Farnbridge. The book was twenty years old, and the few streets she had seen had in town boasted far more shops than were shown here. Also, there was no airship station on these maps. But that was less important than finding likely hiding places for the hound.
There was a knock at the door. Chloe sighed, set aside her book and answered. Beatrice stood
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