But the surprise is mine. Despite the emotional distress which these premature losses have occasioned, I observed a stronger bond between Calista and this species than has existed with any other.
And then this epiphany, which Aaron had sheepishly written at the foot of the page,
Aristotle was deeply wrong. So shall I continue?
Perplexed, Maurice’s eye fell on the ceramic bust on Aaron’s desk. Returning to the journal, he saw that in the spring of 1847, the Nightingales had suspended all work to give Calista time to recover from past losses.
Then in May 1847, Aaron had scribed an unsettling entry.
Science has made enormous progress. I have, in my desk drawers, several phials of this ether which renders operations painless.
Today begins a new endeavour. For what is the use of employing animal magnetism as an anaesthetic when ether now makes this readily achievable?
From today, I shall design experiments aimed at creating trauma in the subject.
In disbelief, Maurice read on. In August 1847, a new shipment had arrived. Ovee Three. It had cost Aaron a fortune, for the creature had been born only two weeks before being ushered to London by private cargo.
John had supervised the shipping. In his notes, Aaron even spoke of the champagne he had drunk with his brother in celebration. Confused, John had accepted, though he was ignorant to what Aaron toasted.
When Aaron finally summoned Calista to return to work, she had lost much weight. She seemed overcome by an unabated darkness. But to Aaron’s astonishment, she soon fell in love. Ovee Three became her world.
Calista has never felt the same way towards a subject as she has now. The effect Ovee Three has on her has been beyond my imagining.
With this new subject, I aim to prove trauma can be undone, physical harmony can be restored, and that the means to achieve all this, is animal magnetism.
Maurice’s heart lurched in his chest. Upon this ominous statement, Aaron’s folly descended into cruelty.
Maurice flicked through pages, eager to discard the passages that followed. For three months, the young Ovee Three had endured unimaginable experiments – forced medication, burning, amputation of limbs, electrical charges – all aimed at inflicting pain and imbalance, in the belief Calista’s magnetic powers would restore it to wellbeing.
Poor Calista. The terror she had endured. Torn between her duty to Aaron and her love of Ovee, no wonder she had fallen ill in the winter. Anyone’s spirit would be broken by such savagery. But to be forced to partake in such vile acts… It explained her anger. Was this why she was returned in spirit form? Did she mourn Ovee Three? Was she doomed to roam Alexandra Hall, fettered by the memory of all she had seen?
Maurice skipped to the end of the journal. There was no mention of Ovee Three’s death but he guessed it must have died too.
The last page had been ripped out and only its jagged outline remained. Within the inner folds of the journal’s leather jacket, was a sealed envelope stamped with a Penny Black. Maurice tore open this letter. It was dated on the first week of August 1848, only a few days before Aaron’s death, and most odd of all, it was addressed to Vera Nightingale.
Dear Vera,
What is done, is done. I have forgiven you.
Lay your mind at rest, for you are lucky. Mary could have ruined everything for all of us. However, all is well.
Aaron
Forgiven? For what? Why would Aaron place a stamp on this envelope only to take his own life without posting it? It made no sense.
Maurice re-read the letter until he knew it by heart. He tried to understand what Aaron meant about Mary. In his 1845 journal entries, Aaron had described how her little dog had broken into the cellar and ingested medication that rendered it aggressive. Maurice thought back to Shannon’s scar. Willy must have shocked the entire household.
Perhaps Mary ranted about the dog’s behaviour long afterwards. As Maurice had discovered while questioning her, she was fixated on this event and the cellar. Was this what Aaron meant by, ruin everything?
Downstairs, the clock struck ten. Footsteps sounded in the corridor. He wondered if Mrs. Cleary might stride in to enquire why he had not come to breakfast. Maurice hastily put away the journal. The footsteps faded away.
He worked for another half an hour, perusing the scientific volumes Madeleine had found about Jeannette Power. He read all he could about the mysterious Power cage.
It now became clear why Aaron had insisted on linking the fountain to the Power cage. He needed oxygen inside the cage. For Ovee!
John Nightingale believed the fountain was a gift, a means to soothe Calista’s homesick heart, and satisfy her longing for the ocean. But he was wrong. Aaron had built it for his own selfish reasons.
“The fountain was only a front, a disguise,” murmured Maurice. Aaron could order the boiler be fed with coal at all times. To everyone’s eyes, the steam pump governed the fountain’s water flow. They ignored its other purpose: it blew air into the Power cage. Aaron had employed the fountain to conceal his underground secret. It was no wonder nobody was ever invited to witness its beauty. Such a pity. Shannon had been right all along.
Aaron had researched this well, going as far as questioning Mrs. Jeannette Power on his own wedding day!
Maurice felt a knot in his throat as he retraced the sequence of events. Well before wedding Calista in April 1837, Aaron had spared no efforts to link the Power cage with the fountain during Alexandra Hall’s construction. It was only in 1845, eight years after they were married, that Aaron and Calista began experimenting on Ovee One.
Aaron’s long term designs awed Maurice.
