Chapter 6

Date: 11/20/1852 Town: Thornwell In which Letha warms to Aristeo.

Letha didn't stop moving until they reached her house, and she could scarcely breathe when she did. She leaned hard against the fence, her chest burning from the crushing grip of her corset. Her hair was a mess, her dress was grubby and would likely need to be burnt rather than washed, and she was sure she would need to bathe for an hour.

Aristeo was in no better shape, having lost his tophat on the way and had no time to retrieve it, and trying his best not to show how winded he was from trying to keep up with her. When she glanced up at him, she could see he was rightfully livid.

"What... in blazes... was that about?" He puffed, trying his best to straighten out his hair.

Letha grimaced and tugged a fan from a hidden pocket within her dress to fan herself fervishly, "That... was survival."

"Someone saw you?"

"Someone talked to me."

Aristeo's eyes widened in disbelief. "You're going to get us both killed."

"And what's the pain in that?" Letha huffed, but she was too tired to argue. She just glanced back where they had run from and took the biggest breath she could manage, "We'll just have to avoid those graves from now on."

Aristeo crossed his arms, "Were you... digging in them?"

"Of course I was. They're hardly shallow enough to simply talk to them, though no one told me they were holding the bodies of shades there..."

Aristeo froze. Letha didn't particularly see the reason for panic, but she knew it was a fearful term. A body without a soul meant one thing... that in the Netherworld there was an empty husk of a soul, not allowed to die properly and thus rotted into nothing. That was what a shade was.

"Anyway..." She tried to wave the topic away, "I met a man there that.. must have been the gravekeeper. Letus."

"Letus?" Aristeo knit his brow, "I've never met him."

"He was an odd sort..." Letha paused to catch her breath properly before speaking again, "How is it I've lived here all my life and never known there was a gravekeeper there?"

Aristeo shrugged, looking vaguely annoyed, "Does it matter? We're not going back there, Letha. Or if you must, do it without me."

"What, you don't think that was fun?"

"No."

Letha frowned and thought a bit as she was fanning herself. Well, she would wait a while before she tried the graveyard again. It was possible there would be nothing there, if there were only empty bodies. But the discovery of Letus left too many questions unanswered not to return.

At the very least, he'd presented a reason for Aristeo to speak for more than a minute at a time. But when she opened her mouth again, he interrupted with a sharp look.

"If this is your idea of courtship, I'd rather wait around for the wedding. I'm going home before you get one of us killed, or made into a shade."

With that he spun on his heel, and stalked away. Letha found herself honestly dumbstruck, still gaping like a goldfish as her corset dug into her skin. This boy had turned out to be... much more interesting than she'd anticipated. Perhaps there was still fun to be had with this.

But there were more important matters at hand. She was filthy, and it would be best she bathed before anyone saw her. With a flick of her wrist she closed the fan in her hand, and hurried inside.

From that moment on her day became boring, and dragged on terribly as she contemplated her future, her quest, the mystery of the Elder's gravekeeper. She gossiped to the maids, but being the dull sorts that they were they had little to add to the conversation. It was an endless loop of Letha moving from task to task, asking herself how this would all fit together and ending up no closer to an answer. And the week was the same, dragging on and on with fittings and arrangements and recitations.

But a new lead came, in the form of a carriage. It had pulled up in front of the funeral home as Letha was visiting Mary, and she seem overjoyed to see it pull in. Letha didn't recognize the driver, but Mary seemed to, and she skipped down the funeral home steps to greet him as the horses slowed to a stop. Letha followed more slowly, curious to see whoever could make timid little Mary so excitable.

The boy was wearing the warrior's armor, taller than Aristeo and seeming strong despite his slender build. His black hair had likely been cut in a Roman style, but it had grown an inch or two since and curled enough to make him look scruffy and unkempt. His eyes were a sharp, pale green, and his gazed seemed to slip over Mary with a look of boredom before sizing Letha up. His eyes, his sharp brows, the way he and Mary seemed to communicate perfectly without making a noise... this was Severin Thornwell.

"A pleasure, Miss Letha." It seemed he had recognized her as well.

She curtsied in return, but she didn't quite feel like speaking to him. Even if she lacked the interest now, he had stolen her right to be a warrior and that wasn’t a grudge she planned to let go of easily.

Still, it was curious how Mary fawned over him... she was the sort that fluttered about near others, trying not to spend too long around anyone if she could help it, but she had always followed in Severin's footsteps and tried to please him without noticing. It seemed Severin was used to the treatment, because the moment he realized Letha wasn't planning to speak he retracted his hand and tried a new approach.

"Seeing as my elder sister was married off to Aristeo's elder brother, I was called back from the barracks to witness his wedding as well. It's such a shame... I would have expected you of all people to get a better match."

"I don't need the reminder, thank you." Letha responded, as pleasantly as she could.

"Well, at least we'll be family. Properly."

"I don't see that as a phrase deserving an 'at least', Mr. Thornwell."

It wasn't properly, in any case. Severin was a b*****d child, as noted by his last name of Thornwell. And when she said his name he flinched ever so slightly, his eyes flashing with indignation for only a moment. But then he was pleasant, the same sort of thorny pleasantness that Letha herself was showing him.

"Well, Miss Regis, you'll have to forgive my faux pas. Marionette and I were just leaving - it would be a shame if I overstayed my welcome in your presence."

Letha returned his cold gaze for a long moment, before he slipped his hand around Mary's waist and led her into the carriage. She'd thought briefly to argue that she had been visiting Mary, but she saw the look in Mary's eyes and knew it would be useless. She looked just like a mouse in the coils of a snake, defenseless and perfectly hypnotized. It was sickening.

It took until she had already started her walk home to realize the missed opportunity. Severin was a warrior... he was at the barracks currently. If she could find some way to get him on her side, she would have a way into the barracks... but she doubted he would help. He had no reason to, and she had no leverage.

Perhaps when she was properly married to Aristeo... but Severin had made it clear how much he disliked Aristeo, and she couldn't blame him. Aristeo's older brother, Octavius, had a proper connection. Lucentia Regis would surely be able to reason with her little brother. But Letha didn't like to think how much work it would take to convince her to help. Much more than Severin was worth.

More loose strings. More unknown facts, more people she didn't have to supplies to speak to. Her impatience bubbled all the way home, until she finally burst as her maid was refilling her bath.

"There must be some way to convince a complete stranger to let one into a guarded and highly dangerous area of town with no knowledge of one's motivations." She commented suddenly, after hours of silence.

The maid, whose name she believed to be Grace - and, considering her level of skill, a cruel trick of fate - was startled by her sudden outburst, and Letha felt she was lucky the girl didn't spill the boiling water on her skin. It was an awkward enough affair for her, as Letha liked to soak in her baths and have them refilled several times with her still inside them, but being spoken to was apparently too much for her fragile little heart.

"It would be one thing if Mary could stand up for herself..." Letha mused all the same, fixing a wet strand of hair that had fallen into her face, "But she's hardly useful, she can hardly speak. Must less convince him to help me into the barracks..."

"If it's not too bold to say..." Grace started nervously, "Maybe askin' him nicely could be all it takes..."

"That is too bold to say." Letha responded smartly, "But I don't expect you to be helpful, these matters are far beyond your understanding."

Grace nodded quietly, spilling the last of the hot water into the bath and carefully adjusting the cloth laid over it for the sake of Letha's modesty. She was ready to leave, but Letha motioned for her to stay and she stood at attention, glancing at the door as if hoping she'd misread the gesture.

"How many days now until my wedding, Grace?"

"Um... fifteen, ma'am."

"Well, I'm impressed you can count that high. Is my dress ready yet, do you think?"

"That's not my station, ma'am..."

"Well, find out. And find out if Aristeo is ready while you're at it. I assume he won't be wanting to see me again after our last outing."

Grace just nodded, "Is that all, ma'am?"

"Yes, that's fine... send someone in to watch me once I'm out of the bath. I'm visiting the Netherworld."

"Yes, ma'am." Grace nearly sprinted out of the room when Letha gestured that she was free. Funny... she never understood why the servants did that.

An hour later she had bathed and dressed and laid on her bed, and the leaves of the dead forest were crackling under her boots. The wind was softer today, and she couldn't help opening her eyes as she walked through it. There were leaves on the trees, brown and orange and all ready to fall at a moment's notice. The breeze carried the scent of rain, and she swore for a moment she heard a bird call. But only once, and the rest of the walk was dead silent.

It gave her pause, for her Netherworld hadn't been alive for five years. But Netherworlds changed from time to time, or so she heard. She supposed it was normal, and there was nothing she could do about it. The Netherworld wasn't hers to control, only to explore. And before long her eyes were shut again to let the wind guide her to her target.

She opened her eyes in a clearing of dry grass, surrounded by the brush of dead trees. In the middle was the tall figure of Aristeo Regis, laying in the grass and looking just like a freshly dead body. It was such a nice look for him, at first she simply watched him. But then she came to sit beside him.

"I knew I'd find you here." She teased.

Aristeo was startled at first, and opened his eyes to look up at her in shock before his brow knit. "I hope this won't be a habit of yours."

"What habit, exactly?"

"Bothering me."

"No, I don't expect I'll stop anytime soon."

Aristeo looked away, but she sensed a calmness in him here that she hadn't seen in the living world. This was where he went to relax, she supposed, and it made perfect sense. For someone who hated the living so much, death must be a comforting place.

"What does the Netherworld look like to you?"

He seemed confused by the question at first. Or, more likely, by the fact that she asked it. Letha didn't know her reasoning well herself, but... the sight of him so peaceful made her wonder what made him that way.

"A forest." Aristeo started, quietly, "It's dark, and there are only pines with crooked branches... There are houses in the woods, where the dead live. The living all seem so lost, but the dead have their place. They belong."

Letha was silent, and took a moment to consider this. She'd never heard an answer so close to her own. After some thought she laid herself down beside Aristeo, and watched the stars above them.

"What do you see this place as?"

"A clearing, full of dry grass. It's sharp to lay on it."

"And the pines are circling around us, the brush could set fire any minute..."

Aristeo seemed surprised, and he glanced at her with his eyes wide. She wasn't sure what had happened, but she could feel they were no longer the enemies she had expected them to be. She expected hatred would be difficult now, seeing as they could share something few could.

They shared the same forest to escape to.