Which meant…
“Towering Oaks,” he whispered.
“What are you talking about?” Jocasta said.
“The other gate. It leads to Towering Oaks.”
“And that’s how it’s becoming infected,” Willow added.
“Wait,” Jocasta said. “That doesn’t make sense. Even if Towering Oaks is going, is it as bad as it is here?”
“No,” Willow replied. “Not when we left anyway. But it is spreading.”
“Then why wasn’t there a gate with the greens of this House?” Jocasta asked.
There was silence for a few moments, then Melanie broke it.
“Because,” she said. “Those aren’t the only gates.”
Chapter 69
“Tea?” Celia said, the disbelief evident in her voice.
“Tea,” Solomon answered. “You were with the Mar-trollid. Didn’t Yag-Morah make you any while you were there?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Then you should know how potent they can be. She gave me this,” he indicated the sack that he set on the table, “and told me to use it when the darkness was closing in. Seems like it’s getting pretty dark.”
“What? You think you drink it and it will stop whatever nastiness is in that mask?”
Solomon shrugged. “I don’t know. I do know that we need to get into that room, and from what you’ve said, the mask is the key.”
“I’m not putting that thing on again,” Celia said.
“And I wouldn’t expect you to. I’ll do it, if need be. But let’s take a look and see if something else presents itself.”
In truth, he didn’t think it would. Celia was no fool, and she’d grown a great deal since being taken from the Greenweald. If she said that the only way to open that door was by putting the mask on, then that was probably true.
Only it was also true that she could have missed something. It was no insult to her, everyone missed things at times. Maybe he would see something that she didn’t.
“We should go now,” he said. “While it’s still light out.”
“You think we have enough time?” Celia asked.
“I think so. You know exactly where to go, right? It’s not like we’ll have to spend time searching.”
“Maybe. But what if the hunters roam the manor during the day?”
“Why would they do that? You’ve been in there at night and didn’t see any. Why would it be different during the day?”
Celia looked nonplussed and gave no answer. For the first time, it occurred to Solomon that perhaps she was simply frightened. Maybe she didn’t want to go back into the manor. Maybe she didn’t want to face another hunter, or whatever was behind them.
And maybe it was more. Maybe she didn’t want to go back to the Greenweald. Back to Whispering Pines where her father no longer was. Facing that was facing the reality of Florian’s death, and, somewhere deep inside her, maybe she didn’t want to do that.
“I can go on my own, you know,” he said gently. “You told me where the stairs are. It’s a straight shot, so it’s not like I’ll get lost.”
“What are you saying?”
Solomon was taken aback. Her voice had grown cold again, tinged with anger.
“I’m not saying anything other than what I did. If you don’t want to go…if you can’t…I’ll do it.”
“I’ll go. And you can bring your stupid tea. I’ll drink it and open that door.”
She banged to her feet and left the room.
Solomon looked at Greta, seeing the same surprise there that he was sure was on his own face.
“What did I do?” he asked.
“Nothing, dear. You did nothing. Celia has a lot going on right now, that’s all.”
Her expression said different. This behavior of Celia’s was new to her as well.
“Would you please make this?” Solomon asked, sliding the sack across the table. “Just enough for a couple of cups.”
“Of course.”
Greta took the sack and made her way to the kitchen, filling the old kettle with water.
“What else do you need?” Friedrich asked.
Solomon shrugged. “Nothing, I think. I have my sword, so if I have to fight, I can. I’ll bring the tea with me and we’ll see what we see.”
“What if that’s your way home? Will you go?”
“That depends, I guess. I don’t want to abandon this place, and you. If we can figure out a way to stop what’s been happening, then maybe.”
Friedrich nodded and climbed to his feet. “That’s what I thought. Be right with you.”
He disappeared into the small room that he and Greta used as a bedroom. When he came back, he was dressed to go outside and had a cudgel hanging at his side.
“Whoa,” Solomon said. “What are you doing? You’re not going.”
“Don’t be dense,” Friedrich replied. “Of course I am. What did you think? That you and Celia would disappear, and we’d be okay not knowing what happened? That she would be?” He indicated Greta with a lift of his chin. “No, I’ll be going along. The kids can stay here with Greta, and we’ll all come back together.”
Solomon didn’t like the idea but had no good reason to argue against it. Friedrich was a grown man who made his own decisions.
“All right,” he said. “In that case, we better make it three cups of tea.”
The water boiled and Greta took leaves from the leather sack.
“Yag-Morah said we only need to use a tiny bit,” Solomon said.
“There’s a lot in here,” Greta replied, peering into the bag. “Plenty to take with you.”
“No,” Solomon said. “Keep it here. Use it when you need to if we don’t come back.”
“And if you do?”
“Then we’ll all have a nice cup of tea,” Solomon smiled. “Maybe in celebration.”
“I hope that’s true,” she
