“On Elfhome, my dreams are so clear and sure. Here, I have dreams but I also have nightmares, and sometimes it’s hard to tell which is which. I don’t know if it’s because the magic here is screwy, as if leaking through the cracks in reality messed it up, or what. I just woke up from a doozy that I really hope is just a nightmare. You need to get out of this house. Get as far away as possible. Now. Before it’s too late. In my dream, he found you when you were much too young. Too small. Too helpless.”
Tears filled Esme’s eyes. “God, I wish I could stay now. I know I’ve never laid eyes on you, but I do love you. I’ve seen reflections of you in my dreams; heard the echoes of your laughter. But I have to go and do what I need to do.” Esme pressed her hand to the glass. “Oh, baby, I hope you never see this. You need to find a way out of here and go. Quickly. Be safe.”
* * *
Esme dreamed of them. She knew that they were going to be here.
Louise stared at the screen, barely able to breathe. She was seeing her future. Her dreams had started when they got the magic generator and had gotten strange since coming to the mansion.
* * *
“That’s it?” Jillian cried when Louise replayed the video for her. Jillian dropped her pitch to parrot Esme. “I have to go and do what I need to do. And do what? Go to a colony a zillion million miles away? What so freaking important about that?”
“I don’t know.” Louise studied the image closely. “She’s afraid that this recording might be found, so she’s trying to be careful as possible. If Ming had found this, there’s not much to lead him to us or betray anything else she’s trying to keep secret.”
Now that Louise examined the video carefully, she noticed that the angle was off. Instead of showing the middle of the bookcase, it was showing the far end and one corner of the false window looking out at the fantasy Paris landscape. Esme sat off-center, so that the window’s edge dominated the screen.
Had Esme hidden something in the window frame? Louise walked across the room to examine the window. The mural had been painted on a panel that was inset into the wall. The trim covered the seam but as she peered closely, she could tell that there was a small gap on all four sides.
“I think this is a door,” Louise whispered. She gave it an experimental push but nothing happened.
Joy bound over and phased through the mural. Louise pressed her hand against the painted wood. It was solid. No wonder they couldn’t keep Joy trapped anywhere; she could walk through walls!
The baby dragon bounced back through the solid panel a moment later. She had clutched in her hands a foil-wrapped packet. “It says cookie! Is it food?”
Jillian took the packet and squinted at it. “Peach cookie crumble? It’s freeze-dried emergency food. Oh, I think it’s expired. Shelf-life is only seven years, and Esme left eighteen years ago.”
“Open it!” Joy clapped her tiny hands together. “I’m so hungry! Gimme! Gimme! Nom, nom, nom!”
Jillian gave Louise a questioning look. Louise wasn’t sure when she got to be the one that decided everything. Had it always been this way and she hadn’t noticed before? She shrugged.
“I think it should be okay. I think when it’s freeze-dried that shelf life means that it’s still at the same nutrient level.”
“I can check.” Nikola sounded eager to help. The last few days had been hard on him.
“Yes, could you?” Louise searched the mural for how the door opened as Jillian dealt with the hungry baby dragon. “There must be some kind of room behind this panel. Esme wanted us to find it. She must have left some kind of clue as to how to open it.”
“You’re right, Lou,” Nikola said. “The food loses its nutrient value after it expires but it continues to be eatable in an emergency as long as it’s stored correctly and the package isn’t compromised.”
“Wait!” Jillian cried as she tried to keep the packet out of Joy’s reach. “It needs water.”
There didn’t seem to be any type of keyhole. It was possible that the lock was operated from a switch hidden elsewhere. Louise scanned the room. If she were going to hide a switch or a key, where would she put it? She wouldn’t use anything like a light switch. With the mansion’s cleaning staff poking around, someone was sure to notice it eventually. Certainly she could understand not putting in a straightforward lock—a keyhole invited lock picks.
Actually a magnetic lock would make sense. Esme could keep the key with her and yet the lock would stay hidden from search. Would a card key still be coded after all this time? Esme probably hadn’t been worried about time when she remodeled her bedroom—most likely the secret door had been created just to protect her childhood treasures. Esme would have hidden the card somewhere in the room before leaving Earth. She knew that they were going to be trapped here.