The Peculiar Case of Agnes Astor Smith Page 8

  “It’s Isabella. I got in a bit of trouble, but I may have exaggerated because of your strange companion. Something about her seems odd, like I’ve seen her in a dream,” she mused aloud.

  That was odd. I had the same recollection myself, as if I'd met Agnes before, in a dream or another life. Isabella and I had more in common than I thought. We weren't the same age, she being perhaps 10 years older than me, but she had a youthfulness about her.

  “The bathhouse,” she supplied, lingering near the entryway. “Locals seem to flock here, especially as of late. You might find what you’re looking for if you chat with a few,” Isabella said, offering me a smile before turning to walk away.

  “Why are you helping me? I don’t even understand what I’m doing, here,” I inquired, gesturing in a wide and grand gesture across the bathhouse. Isabella lingered a moment longer, shrugging her shoulders and seeming a bit troubled herself.

  “This man who comes here sometimes... when he’s near, I catch the hint of gardenias. They’re my favorite flower. I thought it strange, but... I get that same scent when I’m near you. Maybe it’s fate. Maybe I’m delusional. All I can figure is that I’m meant to help you in some way,” she said in a surprisingly calm voice. I tilted my head, but before I could press the issue any further, she darted back in the direction of her post. I watched her go, breathing a sigh before turning to approach Agnes. She was watching me with an odd smile, and I raised a brow before deciding I didn’t want to indulge her strangeness.

  “Seems we found our way to the same place,” I said quietly, and Agnes chucked in response.

  “Thanks to your little friend. She may prove useful to us,” the older woman replied, and I felt myself grow irrationally indignant.

  “People are worth more than your personal use for them, Agnes,” I grumbled, crossing my arms. “And I’m sure I would have found my way here eventually. Have you spoken to any of the locals lingering around? Isabella said—,” I continued, only for the older woman to cut me off.

  “On a first name basis now? My, my, Abigail. I thought I was the one who got around,” she teased with a grin. My eyes widened, and I sputtered for a moment before shaking off the accusation—if that’s even what it was intended to be.

  “Right, well. She said that there’s a strange man who comes here sometimes. She mentioned that he smells like flowers and... so do I, I guess? I’m not wearing any perfume, but—” I was cut off again when Agnes narrowed her eyes and rounded on me.

  “Flowers? How strange,” Agnes mused, though something in her gaze told me that she didn’t find it particularly strange at all. I shrugged, edging past her to engage with some of the other tourists. Agnes remained behind me, leaning in to give me an experimental sniff.

  “You smell like sweat,” she said bluntly. I rolled my eyes, wrapping my arms self-consciously around myself.

  “Well I haven’t had time for a shower yet,” I grumbled. “I’m sure you don’t smell any better... perhaps Isabella just caught a whiff of someone else,” I said with a shake of my head.

  “Somehow, I doubt that,” Agnes murmured. She followed me as I spoke to the locals, each of which seemed somewhat dazed. The group seemed to agree upon one thing, and one thing alone, and that was the appearance of an eccentric man who happened to be at the ruins whenever they stopped in. They also agreed that there was the aroma of flowers when he was around, though they couldn’t decide on what particular flower he smelled like. None of the other tourists mentioned catching the smell on me as well, but I decided not to think too deeply into the matter.

  “What do you gather from this whole situation?” I asked Agnes, noting that her expression was tense. She shook her head, remaining silent for a moment. “Are we going to continue looking for clues? Whatever kind of clues we’re supposed to be finding? Maybe Isabella can help,” I offered meekly. Agnes snorted, but after her initial disdain, she seemed to actually consider my proposition.

  “Perhaps she can. We’re not done here, that much I know. I’m just trying to place these strange phenomenons in a way that makes some manner of sense. I have an idea, but...,” she trailed off, taking me by the wrist. “Let’s find your friend, and see if she has any further insight. Somehow, I feel like all of this means we’re on the right path,” she said authoritatively. I nodded, hesitating as I looked over the bathhouse once more. There was something strange about this trip, something that I had yet to actually put my finger on. I knew Agnes had some ulterior motive for bringing me along, but I couldn’t fathom it for the life of me. What could I possibly provide that she could not figure out on her own? At the very least I could assure myself that I got along with people a bit more easily than Agnes seemed to. I wasn’t sure if that would help us, ultimately, but it was worth investigating. I led Agnes through the ruins, back to where I knew Isabella would likely be lingering. I wondered if the young tour guide would be expecting us, and when she came into my line of sight, her eyes immediately met my own.

  Stranger and stranger.

  Chapter Twelve

  Isabella had a rather smug expression when Agnes and I approached her, and I had the inkling of a feeling that she felt as if the older woman were eating a slice of humble pie. I didn’t know how I was going to cope with both of their large personalities for the duration of the trip, but much to my surprise, Agnes was all smiles as we approached the tour guide.

  “Yes, Isabella, was it?” Agnes began with the ever so charming smile she used to get her way. Isabella considered me from the corner of her eye, her lips curled into a sly smile.

  “I guess my reputation precedes me. That, or my name tag,” she said, tapping the piece of plastic fixed to her t-shirt. I considered her with a quirk of my brow, parting my lips to speak. “I usually don’t wear it, but upper management has been in a tizzy lately. Apparently I’ve been dawdling too much,” she paused, smirking at me. “Perish the thought.” I could sense that Agnes was torn between irritation at the tour guide’s cocky attitude, and amusement at how easily flustered I was.

  “Right, right, of course. Our little Miss Bean has a way of drawing people out of their shell, isn’t that right, dear?” Agnes smiled, her expression saccharine sweet as she pinched my cheek. If she expected the tour guide to be put off by the comment, we were both surprised when Isabella simply shrugged instead of biting out a retort.

  “Can’t argue that point. I take it you’re not just here to chat, though,” she hummed, tapping her fingertips on her forearm. Agnes’ expression tensed slightly, and I couldn’t help but giggle at how serious she was.

  “Abigail, please, we’re trying to make a good impression,” the older woman hissed. Isabella pushed away from the wall she was leaning against, stepping towards us with an undeniable swagger in her step. I averted my eyes, feeling strange for how blatantly Agnes and I were staring at the tour guide.

  “Miss, you don’t have to worry about the whole first impression thing. Your little Bean here has that part covered. If you need help with something, I’m all ears. It’ll just have to wait five minutes or so, because I have to at least pretend to be professional until my next break,” she chuckled breathily, gesturing vaguely towards the wall across from her. “In the meantime, can I interest you in this fascinating rock?” She said with a smirk, only serving to ruffle the older woman’s feathers. I hid a smile behind my hand, patting Agnes on the shoulder.

  “I know plenty about these so called rocks, young lady. I’ve studied this area extensively for years,” she bit out, and Isabella raised a brow with a smile.

  “Eons, I’d imagine,” she said casually, her eyes filled with mischief. Agnes squawked, completing the bird-like image of herself.

  “Come on, you two. Can’t we just agree to get along for the sake of...,” I trailed off, realizing I still had no idea what we were here for. Agnes crossed her arms over her chest, huffing melodramatically as Isabella considered the two of us. I almost wondered if I had blown our chance when the tour guide turned her back to
wards us, shuffling back to what I could only guess she had designated as her post. She rummaged through her bag for a moment, grabbing a ripe green apple and flinging it at Agnes. The older woman caught it through sheer reflex, and I stared between the two of them as Isabella grabbed two more of the sumptuous fruits in her hands.

  “Consider yourself blessed, your majesty. I don’t share my snacks with just anyone,” she directed towards Agnes, who looked the apple over as if it might have been poisoned. “As far as getting along, I suppose I can manage for your sake, little Bean,” she hummed, taking a bite of her apple as she pressed the third into my hand. “And for the sake of a bit of adventure,” she smiled, and I felt my cheeks redden in spite of myself. She was charming, if a bit full of herself. I’d give her that much. I suppose I had a way of attracting the bold and proud type. Agnes had resorted to sniffing the apple in her hand, her expression hilariously serious for someone who was standing in the middle of ancient ruins smelling a piece of fruit.

  “Trade with me,” Agnes said abruptly, shoving hers at me. My eyes widened in disbelief, and Isabella barked out a laugh as the older woman yanked my own snack out of my hand. “She likes you. If the apple is poisoned, she won’t let you eat it,” Agnes asserted, pointing two fingers at her eyes before whirling her fingers around towards the tour guide.

  “You can’t be serious...,” I muttered, shooting Isabella a warning look that she thoroughly ignored.

  “Alas, my evil misdeeds have been discovered. Now the world will know how I regularly poison tourists at the attraction I work for. Surely it has taken a genius to reveal my ploy. How else could I...,” she trailed off, rolling her eyes. “I’m bored with this already. It’s time for my break. What is it that you two are so curious about?” She inquired, continuing to munch on her snack. I took a bite of my own without hesitation, and the tour guide winked at me before gesturing for us to follow her. Agnes was quietly stewing, and I decisively took it upon myself to keep the conversation going, just for the older woman’s sake.

  “Locals have mentioned that a strange man comes here sometimes. The same you mentioned, I gathered,” I began, and the tourist guide hummed noncommittally, seeming to follow a random path as she strode through the ruins. I stammered for a moment, wondering if I sounded as foolish as I felt.

  “Go on,” Isabella pressed, and Agnes seemed to content herself with methodically picking pieces of the apple’s flesh off with her long nails. I rolled my eyes, deciding that someone in our little entourage needed to show a bit of maturity.

  “We think there’s something strange going on here. You seem to know a lot about the ruins, and you said you’ve been exploring here since you were younger,” I paused, fidgeting for a moment. “I was hoping you would be able to direct us... somewhere.” I finished. She stopped abruptly, turning to face me with a scrutinous expression.

  “Oh, Abigail. You wound me. Here I thought we were friends, and you’re only using me for my big beautiful brain,” she sighed, flinging her apple into a nearby wastebasket. My eyes widened, and I sputtered for a moment before she snorted and shook her head. “I’m kidding. I’m a tour guide, this is the sort of fare I deal with on a regular basis. You’re gonna want to check out the boathouses. If your friend has studied this place as deeply as she suggests, you should know about the heaps of skeletons that were found there,” she said sounding bored. I couldn’t help worrying if I had really offended her, but Agnes took charge and stepped up around me.

  “Of course. It’s said that they were seeking refuge, but no one has been able to determine just what they were hiding from. What makes you think anything of importance would be found there?” Agnes demanded, receiving a smirk in response.

  “I’m sure you and little Bean can figure things out from here. Continue down this corridor, and when you see the big archways, you’ll know you’re in the right place,” Isabella said casually, moving to walk away. I grabbed her by the arm, and her cheeks flushed as she looked at me inquisitively.

  “I...,” I began, swallowing before forcing myself to continue. “Thank you for helping us. Is there anything else you can tell us?” I asked meekly. Isabella stared at where my hand gripped her wrist for a moment, and I released her immediately. She pursed her lips, turning her eyes skyward before sighing.

  “I just think if I had something to hide, seeking refuge in a place where I would be remarkably average would be helpful. They were all hiding from something, after all. Who would notice if there was something deeper to their companion’s fear?” She mused aloud, and I worried my lip between my teeth as she shook her head and glanced at me with what seemed to be finality. “Not that I’m the type to keep secrets. Be careful, little Bean,” she smiled, saluting before disappearing around the corner. I stared after her, feeling as if some weight had been placed on my shoulders.

  “Strange one, that girl,” Agnes murmured, seeming to sense my unease. “Seems fairly taken with you, at least. I don’t think she would lead us astray,” she continued grudgingly, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “No, I don’t think so either. I just..,” I trailed off, rubbing my arm uncomfortably. “Do you really think we’ve been using her?” I inquired softly. Agnes hesitated, reaching out to grab my shoulder and turn me around.

  “Such is the nature of the beast, Abigail. I wouldn’t overthink it too terribly. In time, you’ll see how insignificant one tour guide is in the grand scheme of things,” Agnes said, her eyes softening upon seeing how deeply her words troubled me. “You can apologize later, if that will make you feel any better. For now, come along,” she said sternly, leading me deeper into the boathouse. I trailed behind her, feeling a bit disconcerted with being in a place where so many had lost their lives. Agnes strode off in one direction, and though I was sure she expected me to follow, I decided to go the opposite way. I felt drawn towards something, and the unmistakable chill in the air was almost eerie. I paused at a point where the floor seemed somehow... off. Different in some way. I blinked, and when I opened my eyes, I briefly saw bones scattered in a vast pile. I swallowed a shriek, my eyes following the bones to where a single man stood. He fidgeted with a loose stone in the wall, pulling it loose and shoving something inside before replacing the stone. He looked at me, his expression twisted in anguish, before he withdrew a blade and slit his own throat. As he hit the ground, he turned into bones like the rest that seemed to surround me. I blinked hard, my breath catching as things finally returned to normal. I hesitated for a brief moment, hands tensing at my sides before I rushed over to the stone and tested it to see if it would budge. It slid away with ease, but nearly crushed my foot as it clattered to the ground. I hadn’t expected it to be so heavy, which may have been foolish on my part. I glanced inside, my heart skipping a beat. I was sure this was it—this was what we were seeking the whole time! Agnes would be thrilled, I would receive a steep paycheck and whatever was going on in this place would be resolved. However, I was disappointed to see very little in the hidden compartment. It looked as if something may have been there, but if it had been, it was gone now. I sighed, jolting upright as something touched my shoulder. I wheeled around, and Agnes stared at me with a curious expression. She edged past me, looking into the compartment and exhaling sharply through her nose.

  “What does the symbol mean?” I asked quietly, feeling as if I had let the older woman down.

  “What symbol-,” she barked back, pausing as she noticed the small etched sign. “Oh. This is a symbol of Neptune. I can’t imagine why...,” she trailed off, glancing at me as if I had bestowed her with the gift of everlasting life. “The House of Neptune and Amphitrite...” she whispered. She grabbed me by the wrist, yanking me alongside her as she sprinted at a speed that I could barely match.

  “What are you...,” I began, squealing as she came to a complete stop. I stumbled forward, my foot catching on a stone and knocking me to my knees. I cringed, the pain alighting every nerve in my body.

  “You,” I heard Agnes his
s, and before I could sputter apologies, I looked up to see the very man we had been chasing through town. He smiled cheekily, standing in front of a large hole in the wall. He withdrew what seemed to be some sort of rolled up paper, giving it a little wave and a wink in Agnes’ direction. The older woman almost seemed to roar in anger, rushing past me in an attempt to follow him. I staggered to my feet, managing to keep pace with them—though just barely.

  “Agnes!” I cried out, feeling as if my leg would give out at any moment. She ignored me, so I inhaled a deep breath and attempted to keep the pace. It seemed to be a losing race—as fast as Agnes was, this man was faster. I had no idea why we were chasing him or what was so crucial about the bit of paper clutched in his hand, but I knew I couldn’t stop. As we continued through the ruins, I caught sight of the tour guide who had led us to the boathouse, pacing in a hall just adjacent to the one I was chasing Agnes and the man down. As I paused behind her, she stopped abruptly, as if a jolt had gone through her body.

  “Little Bean?” She began, stepping towards me. My leg chose that very moment to give out, and I stared bleakly after Agnes as she continued to race after her target. I felt remarkably useless, and in spite of feeling vaguely wounded, I was almost thankful that the older woman hadn’t stopped to check on me. I’m sure her reaction wouldn’t have been particularly pleased if I came between her and... whatever she was after. Still, my chest ached as I pressed my palms to the floor and tried to help myself to my feet. A hand touched my arm, and I knew it could only be Isabella. She helped me up, looking me over with an intense expression. I followed her gaze to see that my skinned knees were bleeding, and I parted my lips to assure her I was alright. She shook off whatever seemed to be troubling her so deeply, dropping to her knees and fumbling around in her bag.