Beyond the Gates of Evermoore

Eric shushed her as the food was brought out. There was much less of it than before. The platters were no longer silver, either. They were made of wood.

“What’s going on?” she asked the young man sitting next to her. “What’s with—”

That’s when she noticed him: Lucus. He’d been seated at the table the whole time, down near the far end. He was staring at Eric. Even worse, Eric was staring back.

“Why is the blacksmith here?” Eric asked in a low, almost ominous tone. “Why isn’t he back at the carriage house?”

It took a moment for Melody to realize he wasn’t talking to her. He was asking the middle-aged man — the one at the head of the table. But the man was ignoring him. Ignoring him while spooning out a big ladle of soup.

Minutes passed. Eventually the two of them broke eye contact. Eric ate ravenously, from many different plates, but she could tell the food wasn’t as good as it was the night before. Melody on the other hand, hardly touched anything. She was too busy scanning the guests, listening to them talk. Trying to figure out if any of them knew anything, or might unintentionally reveal something important to her.

The Colonel was arguing with the banker now. The two became embroiled in some bitter debate that ended when the banker threw down his napkin and left early. Melody noticed as he left that his suit wasn’t nearly as fancy this time around. In fact—

“This is all wrong,” she told Eric. “For some reason they changed it.”

“Changed what?” her companion asked around a mouthful of dry potatoes.

“They changed everything,” she said. “All of it. Just look around.”

Eric didn’t appear to be in the mood for looking around. He kept eating.

“See the fork you’re using?” Melody pointed. “That fork was silver yesterday. Real silverware with china plates. Today all the utensils are iron, and the plates are ceramic. Even the silken napkins are gone.”

Her companion shrugged. At the opposite end of the table however, Lucus looked on. Watching. Listening.

“The wine definitely isn’t as good,” Melody went on. “It’s watered down. And all the finer finishes are gone. Look at the walls. Half the paintings are missing, like they were sold off.”

Eric picked at his vegetables. There were a lot of vegetables, now that she thought about it. There was hardly any meat on the table at all.

“Doesn’t this all seem strange to you?” she asked.

“This whole place is strange,” shrugged Eric. “Why are you surprised?”

“Because these aren’t just inconsistencies,” Melody said. “They’re intentionally different.” She nodded in the direction of the Colonel. “Look at this guy. He’s missing his leg Eric! His leg! And his uniform is different. He’s got two more medals pinned to his chest than he did yesterday.”

Eric looked unsure of what to do. He dropped his fork.

“How do you know all this stuff?” he pleaded with her. “I mean, how do you see it?”

“I look,” Melody snorted. “Just like you should be looking. Hell, you and I should both be looking. For the you-know-what…”

Her voice trailed off. Other people were watching them now, taking their conversation almost as an argument. Melody lowered her voice, glad she’d stopped short of mentioning the egg.

“Listen,” she hissed after a while. “We don’t have much time. Tonight’s the night. This is it for us, if we’re ever going to—”

He spun around to face her, taking her hands in his. Melody looked up apprehen

sively, but Eric’s face had softened.

“Alright, I get it,” he said. “You want to search the bedrooms.”

She nodded almost imperceptibly, shifting her eyes left and right. He was talking just a little too loudly for her tastes.

“Fine” Eric said. “Slip out of here. I’ll wait a few minutes and be right behind you.”

Melody rose, finally grateful to be doing something. Lucus’s eyes followed her as she did. He was the only one at the table who seemed to even notice her. Even so, it was somehow reassuring just knowing he was there.

She exited into the hallway, hoping he might follow. She wanted to talk to him some more. The blacksmith seemed somehow different from the rest of the guests. More concrete, more real. Less ‘checked out’ in ways that—