Excerpt: Mirror

There were cobwebs, and she brushed them away. A few silly cobwebs didn't frighten her. When she ran her finger along the wall it came off thick with dust.

“I wonder how long it's been since any one has come up here.” she wondered to herself. “Too long, I think.”

The one relief to that was that Annie knew that she wouldn't be disturbed. Most, if not all, of the teachers could never fit up that stair anyway.

Then, abruptly the stair ended. Annie stepped out into a room that was the full width of the building and the full length. The walls were not mahogany, but just the plain stone that the building was built out of. The floor was sturdy oak and above her the great timbers that held up the roof were shrouded in dusky shadows.

The whole garret was almost too dark to see anything clearly. There were a few windows, but they were so dirty with the dust and grime of long years that little to no light came through them.

Well, first things first. Annie went over and found a pile of rags. The ones on the top were too dusty to use, but the ones underneath were good still. Taking a few she went over to the windows and started to rub them clean.

The result wasn't perfect, but much better. What light there was outside came in. Annie thought it looked like less light than even when she got up. In the distance, thunder rumbled. Annie shivered pleasurably. There was nothing quite like being up in an unfamiliar garret in a very old building during a thunderstorm.

“There must be a lamp around here someplace.” Annie said to herself, feeling in her pocket for the matches that she'd brought along.

One never went exploring without matches. You never knew when you'd need them, and if you didn't have them it could be a real bother.

She peered around in the quickly waning light. It was going to storm. And hard.

“There you are.” She drew out a lantern and struck a match, lighting the wick. A quick rub of the glass had it clean enough that light poured out from the lantern.

It was a real sea-lantern, the sort that was made so wind and rain didn't blow it out. Annie imagined it hanging out at the end of the bowsprit on a pirate ship that was cutting through tremendous waves on a stormy sea with the brave crew trying to bring down the rigging so the ship wasn't smashed to pieces on the reef of the Caribbean.

Horrid that almost all the pirates were gone, Annie thought. Sailors were romantic, but pirates even more so. She sighed wistfully, running her hand gently over the sea chest that the lantern had been sitting on. As she fingered it the lock snapped open.

Annie jumped. Outside thunder crashed and lightning lit up the garret.

Annie glanced around, and the wind blew around the house, screaming like a man in pain. Annie shivered. The garret suddenly seemed great and empty. Most of it was filled with darkness. The only pool of light was that thrown by the lantern. Annie reached out and felt the lock. It was loose in her hands and she slid it off the chest.

The chest had two locks, the padlock and the lock built into it. She touched the lock ever so gently and there was a great crack. Thunder rolled and boomed. Lightning flashed in the attic, and Annie bit back a scream. In the brightness of the lightning she thought she could see a skeleton hanging from one of the great timbers of the ceiling.

Annie had enough sense to know that this was all related to the chest. Somehow...some way... The wind screamed again and she shuddered. But a sort of morbid curiosity drew her on. She set her hands on the dusty surface and began to lift the lid. Thunder cracked in her ears and she almost blinded by the next flash of lighting. Frightened, she dropped the lid.

The thunder receded, and Annie too a deep breath. It's alright... She reached forward and quickly threw open the lid of the chest. The thunder rolled and the wind screamed and the attic was bright with the lightning. Where she thought she'd seen the skeleton before was empty.

“You were just seeing things.”

And there was the sea chest in front of her, open. The lantern light didn't reach quite far enough for her to see inside. Almost afraid to do so, Annie reached out and got a hold of the handle of the lantern and drew it over. The light reached toward the chest with long golden fingers. The lightning flashed again, and Annie caught sight of gold and silver inside.

The lantern light filled the chest. Laying across the top was a brooch and a ring of gold and silver with garnets set in them. Annie ran a hand gently over them, and was surprised by the fact that they were free of dust. Not tarnished either, she noticed.

Maybe it was a magic chest.

She lifted out the ring and the brooch. The brooch looked like the sort that you would fasten a cloak with, and the ring was a signet ring. It was large though, almost like it had been made for a man. A small man, though. She slid it onto her middle finger, and it fit.

Underneath it were some clothes. Several flowing silk shirts of whitest fabric with great billowing sleeves and tight cuffs. The fronts were laced. Almost like styles from a hundred years ago.

Except that the workmanship was much finer than anything Annie had ever seen before.

Beneath them were black tight pants. She held them up—they seemed so small. Whoever this man was he hadn't been very large. The pants had a wide waistband, and long, tight legs.

Underneath that was a sash of red and gold. Annie set it down too and reached in again.

Boots. Made out of black deerskin with soft soles and high tops. They too were small.

I could fit in them.

Next out came a great green cloak. The color of fir trees. It was trimmed with cord the color of the setting sun. The same color as the sash. Annie ran her finger over the fine cord.

What clothes! She set down the cloak too and reached back in.

At first all she felt was the bottom of the chest. Her fingers ran lightly over the bottom, and then they hit something smooth. She felt around.

A book! She pulled it out. The cover was leather and it was tied shut with a leather thong. Slowly, ever so slowly she opened it. The handwriting was thin and spidery, but she could make it out.

This is my first day with the new diary. Some keep a ship's log—I keep a diary. Some seaman I make! I can navigate better than any of the other men on the seas, though, which is why, I suppose, I am still in the employ of the king.

But I sense trouble. It's hard to say why. But I feel it. In my bones.

Thunder rumbled and crashed, and the great timbers now completely hidden in darkness creaked. Annie shivered and drew her knees up to her chest. “I don't know who you are,” she whispered to the diary, “but I feel it too.”