Serafina burst out of her hiding spot and fled. She leapt from branch to branch down through the tree. As soon as she hit the ground, she ran, her bare feet thrashing quickly across the forest floor. When she looked over her shoulder, she didn’t see any sign of the sorcerer, but she kept running.
Putting the dark river behind her, she fled way up into the rocks and trees of a high ridge, then through a wide, forested valley. When she finally slowed down, she could tell by the type and age of the trees that she was getting closer. She could see a soft glow of light in the distance, and it drew her home like a beacon.
As she made her way along the edge of Biltmore’s bass pond, she noticed that the little stream that normally trickled into it was swollen with rain, filling the pond with more water than usual. The storms are coming, Serafina thought.
The calm, flat water of the pond reflected the light of the stars and the moon, but she didn’t linger to admire it. She was anxious to get home, to make sure Braeden and her pa were all right, and to warn them about what she’d seen in the forest.
She followed the garden path up through the pink and orange azaleas, which were blooming as bright as the moon itself. When she saw a faint green glow up the hill towards the rest of the gardens, she paused, uncertain. She knew Biltmore’s gardens well, but had never seen a greenish light like this before.
Her first thought was that the sorcerer was already here, had already taken over and made Biltmore his domain. Then she heard the murmur of many voices.
As she approached more closely, she saw that the green glow wasn’t a sorcerer’s spell, but the conservatory all lit up for an evening party, the light shining through the leaves of thousands of orchids, bromeliads and palms, and out through the greenhouse’s many panes of glass.
She crept along the edge of the building and looked into the Walled Garden, where she saw hundreds of ladies in formal summer dresses and gentlemen in black tailcoats gathered for the party. The windows of Biltmore House blazed above, the south walls and towers of the mansion rising like an enchanted castle into the night.
The walled garden had been strung with the kind of softly glowing Edison bulbs that her pa used. And smaller lights hung along the wooden arbour that covered the central path of the garden, the lights tucked among the leafy vines and flowering blooms like little faeries taking refuge among the leaves. She had never seen so many beautiful lights in her life.
Hiding in the bushes near the rose keeper’s stone shed, she scanned the crowd for Braeden, but she didn’t see him. He was a reserved boy, not always the centre of attention, but his aunt and uncle usually encouraged him to attend the estate’s social events. She and Braeden had shared so many adventures. And they had been through so much together. He was her closest and most trusted friend. She couldn’t wait to see him.
The fancy folk were mingling about on the perfectly manicured paths of the garden, holding champagne flutes in their elegant, flawless hands, chatting and sipping lightly as they promenaded among the roses, dahlias and zinnias. Bathed in the conservatory’s glow, a string quartet played a beautiful song. Footmen in their formal black-and-white livery strolled among the crowd serving custard tarts, cheeses and freshly baked cream puffs from their trays. Serafina suddenly felt pangs of hunger.
But everything about this party flummoxed her. It must have taken weeks of planning to arrange all this, and yet she hadn’t heard anything about it. And why wasn’t Braeden here? There were so many strangers. Where were Mr and Mrs Vanderbilt?
A few of the more adventurous adult guests and a coterie of their fancifully attired children huddled together and lit candles inside small paper lanterns, then held them aloft. As if by magic, the rising heat of the candles lifted the lanterns upward out of their hands into the nighttime sky. Serafina watched with the other children as the lanterns floated slowly up into the heavens. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of it, but then a melancholy swept through her. She knew it was foolish after everything she’d been through, but she felt so sad that she hadn’t been invited to this wonderful party. It was an evening party. And she was a creature of the night! If anyone should have been part of it, she should have been! It felt like so much had changed, like the whole world had been slipping by without her.
After destroying the Black Cloak and freeing the estate’s lost children from its dark imprisonment, she had entered the daylight world upstairs. The Vanderbilts had welcomed her into their home. She had become part of Biltmore now. Hadn’t she? So why wasn’t she at this party? It made her qualmish in her stomach thinking about it. What had happened? What had she missed? Hadn’t anyone noticed that she wasn’t there?
It was hard to understand how all these fancy-dressed people could gather for this lovely party, when just a few miles away a storm had raged through the forest. A short distance down the hill the inlet stream was quietly flooding the pond. A dark force was coming, but they seemed to have no idea.
When she heard Mrs Vanderbilt’s gentle laugh in the distance, Serafina turned hopefully towards the sound. She saw right away that Braeden wasn’t there, but Mr Vanderbilt and Mrs Vanderbilt were standing together with several of their guests near one of the rose trellises.
Mr Vanderbilt was easily recognisable with his black hair and moustache, and his lean, shrewd face with dark, inquisitive eyes. He was dressed in a handsome black tux with tails and white tie. Many of the men she’d spied on over the years were loud of voice and boisterous of manner, but Mr Vanderbilt was a quieter, more refined, thinking kind of gentleman. Usually, if he wasn’t reading in his library, he was watching and learning from those around him. He was always kind and welcoming in spirit when he spoke to people, whether they were guests or servants or workers on the estate, but he also seemed to enjoy watching people from a distance at parties, taking everything in.
Mrs Vanderbilt was more outgoing, more talkative and social with the guests. She had dark hair like her husband, and a similar spark of intelligence, but she had an easy charm and a gracious smile. She wore a lovely, loosely flowing mauve dress, but what truly stunned Serafina was that Mrs Vanderbilt’s belly was large with her baby. The last time Serafina had seen her, she couldn’t even tell that she was with child.
It hasn’t just been twenty-eight days, Serafina thought. She felt as if she were being lowered into a deep, dark well. I’ve been gone for months . . . They’ve all forgotten about me . . .
‘And where is that dear nephew of yours tonight?’ one of the lady guests asked Mrs Vanderbilt.
‘Yes, indeed,’ said the lady’s husband. ‘Where is Young Master Braeden?’
‘Oh, he’s around,’ Mrs Vanderbilt said lightly, but Serafina noticed that the mistress of the house didn’t actually look around her when she said these words. It was as if she already knew her nephew wasn’t nearby. She was acting cheerful in front of her guests, but Serafina could hear the twinge of concern in her voice.
As Mrs Vanderbilt and her friends continued their conversation, Mr Vanderbilt stepped back from them and looked up towards the library terrace. Serafina could see the wrinkles of worry around his eyes and mouth.
‘So, how has Braeden been doing?’ one of the guests asked Mrs Vanderbilt.
‘Oh, he’s fine,’ Mrs Vanderbilt said. ‘He’s fine. He’s doing well.’
One he’s fine was enough, Serafina thought, but two was too many. There was definitely something wrong.
‘If you’ll excuse me for a moment,’ Mr Vanderbilt said. He touched his wife’s arm and then left them.
As Mr Vanderbilt walked quickly through the crowd, several people tried to talk to him, for he was host of the grand party, but he kindly gave his regrets and kept moving.
Ducking through the hedges, Serafina followed him. After being away for months, the sight of her was no doubt going to startle him, but as soon as he was alone, she was going to tell him about the dangers she’d seen in the forest. She could show him the rising water