Sophia started towards the tapestry, but then heard the sound of the soldiers right outside the door. There was no choice but for the girl to remain hidden.
For now, only for now.
Sophia noticed the tapestry was crooked. Instinctively, she put out her hand to straighten it. Again, her fingers found only air.
Open up.
The latch rattled, the door straining against the bolt as the soldiers set their shoulders to the jamb. And although Sophia knew they couldn’t see her, her palms were slippery with fear. She tried again and, this time, it seemed as if the tapestry moved a little. Moved enough.
In the name of the king.
The wooden frame around the door was starting to give. This domestic room within a private house was not built to withstand such treatment. Even though she knew it would make no difference, Sophia threw the full weight of her body against the door. She could not stand by and do nothing.
One final blow and the frame buckled, the door splintered from its hinge and the men burst through. Three soldiers with swords drawn and a fourth holding a flaming torch in his hand.
They snapped and snarled, like hunting dogs after prey, cheated to find the room empty.
Though she could barely breathe from fear, Sophia stood her ground. Whatever had happened five hundred years ago – if she was seeing an echo of things that had been – she was determined it would be different this time. Whatever tragedy had taken place in this room, she would not let the story have the same ending.
But she could only watch with mounting fear, mounting rage, as the soldiers ransacked the room, to teach the traitor Lovell a lesson. Upturning the table, breaking the lock on the chest and tramping the delicate red and blue and white threads under heel. Dashing the candlestick and earthenware goblet from the table until everything was broken and spoiled.
They stopped.
Sophia felt a flicker of hope. Perhaps, now, they would leave? Move on to the next room? Three of the soldiers did turn to withdraw, calling for their companion to follow them. He started after them, still holding the flame to light the way, then he stopped. His expression changed as he turned slowly back to the room.
For a moment, Sophia thought he somehow could see her. His eyes seemed to be cutting right through her. But then, to her horror, he began to walk towards the tapestry itself.
She tried to block his path. But her imprint was too faint and he kept on coming. Now he was reaching up and with rough hands, nails black with dirt, he ripped the tapestry from the wall with a single, jagged movement.
Sophia caught her breath. There was nothing visible. If she hadn’t seen the girl disappearing into the hidden space with her own eyes, she wouldn’t have known it was there. Washed with lime and uneven in the way of old houses, the wall looked unbroken. A pattern of thin lines and crosses covered the entire surface, like a spider’s web, disguising the outline of the door perfectly.
The soldier held the flame closer, puzzled by the strange markings concealed beneath the tapestry. Sophia stepped between him and the wall, a barrier between him and the hidden girl. And though she still didn’t think he could see her, she knew he sensed her presence. The peculiar sensation of the half touch of his fingers paddling across the surface of her skin.
He felt something too.
The soldier withdrew his hand, as if he’d been stung, and turned it over, examining his palm. Sophia had no idea what kind of superstitions or fears stalked his dreams at night, but the belligerence that had driven him into the room deserted him.
She breathed out, unable to stay completely still for an instant longer. The soldier reacted. He put his hand to his face, as if brushing a cobweb away.
Had he felt her breath on his skin?
She took a deep breath and, this time, blew directly into his face. He took a step back. Quickly, Sophia pulled the scarf from her neck and, as she blew out again, she also stirred the air with the yellow handkerchief.
This time, he cried out, flapping his hand at the empty air to ward off the evil spirits. Sophia waved the scarf from side to side, forcing him to jab the flame into the black. The soldier crossed himself, turned on his heel and fled.
The room was plunged back into darkness.
For an instant, Sophia didn’t move. Her blood pounding in her ears, listening to the drum of his running feet until she could hear him no longer. Silence rushed back into the room.
Only then did her legs turn to water. Dizzy with relief, Sophia slumped back against the wall, heart hammering in her chest. She had done it. She had driven him away.
But her task was not yet finished.
Quickly, she turned and examined the wall, trying not to think about what the absence of sound from below might mean. The darkness surged around her, like a living, breathing thing. Though her fingers skimmed the surface, she couldn’t seem to touch, and she couldn’t find any kind of switch or catch to release the door. With the increasing sense of urgency, she crouched down and tried to force her fingers into the gap between the bottom of the wall and the floorboards. Again, though she could feel her nerve endings and her muscles and her skin, her hands seemed to go straight through into thin air.