Beyond the Gates of Evermoore

Melody began looking around, but to no avail. The closest thing she found to useful was a faded old pillowcase in one of the drawers. She tore a long strip of cloth from the end of it with a much-too-loud rending sound.

“Ohhh! You’re gonna get in trouble,” he teased.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” she quipped. “Now get over here.”

He did, and she began to bandage him. There was barely enough material to cover the wound.

“Hmm. You’re good at this.”

“I grew up with three brothers,” she explained. “They climbed a lot of trees.”

“You’ll have to thank them for me.”

In the end it wasn’t perfect, but it did the trick. Eric rolled his sleeve down and bent his arm a few times, testing her handiwork. He nodded appreciatively.

“Not bad,” he said. “I think I’ll live.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“So are you ready for dinner, milady?” he grinned, extending his good arm.

“Supper actually,” she said. She reached out and took it. “But yes.”

7

It was the strangest dinner Melody had ever been to. And considering her family she’d been to some awfully strange ones.

The Evermoore’s dining room was a long, elegant hall filled with all things gaudy. Garish paintings hung inside gold-leaf frames, beside brightly-polished sconces of brass and bronze. A large fixture hung centered over the giant mahogany table, filled with dozens of lit candles that made the room glow. It was bright enough to see by, but just seemed… off.

How the hell did people live this way, she wondered. Before electricity?

The wallpaper and carpet were busy with patterns and stripes. When you added it all together, the whole place reminded Melody of a funeral parlor. It gave her an uneasy feeling right off the bat.

She was sitting in an ornately-carved chair, with red velvet cushions and wooden arms that seemed jammed too close to her sides. It would’ve been a tight fit, even without her ball gown. With it, it was downright uncomfortable.

“The Lady of the House will not be joining us tonight,” a middle-aged man informed them from the head of the table. “Unfortunately she is feeling unwell, but sends her best regards.”

The man moved gracefully as he sat down at the head of the table, presumably in the place where Lady Neveux would’ve been. There was an aristocratic air about him. When he picked up his cloth napkin and tucked it into his collar, every one of the other dinner guests simultaneously followed suit. It was almost like one big synchronized movement.

Melody turned to her left and found Eric already doing the same thing. “When in Rome…” he shrugged, tucking in his napkin.

The man they’d started calling ‘Lurch’ was seated at the opposite end of the table. He still looked gaunt, almost clammy to the touch. Across from them was a woman, and what appeared to be her young daughter. Both wore very simple, very plain colonial dresses. They looked nothing like Melody, in her beautiful silken gown, and this confused her. If either of them were going to the cotillion afterward, they needed to change.

She was staring down at her scalloped china place setting when the food was brought out. There was a good amount of it, all presented on silvered serving trays. The man at the head of the table raised a glass of something rich and dark, holding it out to them.

“Please,” he said amiably. “Enjoy.”

The clatter of silverware against plates began. There were eight other guests at the table, including them. On their side was a slender young man and an older woman. On the other, a man in a thick, uncomfortable-looking suit, and what looked to be some kind of general or high-level member of whatever passed for the military at the time. He wore a full dress uniform, with flowing white hair and thick mustaches.

“Get a load of Colonel Mustard over there,” Eric chuckled to her under his breath.

“Colonel… Mustard?”

“You know, from Clue,” he prodded he. “The board game?” When Melody didn’t answer right away he actually dropped his fork. “You’ve played Clue, right?”

“Yes,” she said. “I— I think so.”

A vague memory resurfaced, of possibly playing the game with her older brothers. Maybe even her father too, before he died. She was pretty sure it was Clue, anyway.