Youthful Indiscretion Read online

needed constant supervision but could bedevil him to distraction.

  "Oh. I hope everything works out." Still, he wasn't disappointed. As much as he loved playing video games or watching movies with them, he was anxious to take a crack at the puzzle.

  "I'm sure there won't be any problem. Meanwhile, fortunately I have the night off, so I thought we could do something together. Anything you like."

  Ordinarily that would have him excited. Despite her best efforts they didn't often spend time together, quality or otherwise, at least not without taking a week or more off. "Could I take a rain check?"

  She threw him a startled look. He understood why she was surprised. For the first couple of years after they had gotten back together he often begged her to do things with him, and sometimes threw a fit when she couldn't. He stopped as he got older, especially when he moved in with her after Grandmother died, having acquired a better understanding of her duties and responsibilities, but he figured she would probably remember that over his current behavior.

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "I'm sorry, but I don't feel well."

  She took off a glove and felt his forehead and cheeks. "You're not running a fever. Do you feel ill? Your stomach maybe?"

  "No, I'm not sick, I just feel tired."

  She nodded as she put her glove back on. "We did run you ragged this afternoon, but we could watch a movie. Avatar 2 is available on the Blockbuster Channel."

  "I actually have some homework I need to finish before school on Monday. I was going to do it tomorrow, but if I do it tonight maybe we could go horseback riding after Sunday roast."

  She flashed a disappointed expression before she suppressed it. He felt bad about blowing her off like that, but he was in earnest.

  "I can't promise anything, but I have no meetings, my reports for the week are finished, and there are no operations going on. As long as nothing comes up, a ride around the estate sounds lovely." Then she flashed a rueful half-grin. "I can show you where I used to hide in the motte-and-bailey when I was younger than you are now."

  He smiled and nodded. "Then it's a date."

  "Tea is served My Lady, My Lord," Aelfraed said as the maid curtsied.

  As they ate, they spoke of mundane matters: his latest school projects, the most recent adventures of Team Girl, and Dr. Mabuse's newest breakthrough, but perhaps inevitably the conversation turned towards the relics in the vault. "You seemed so excited about helping the Girls; what happened?"

  "I expected them to be more interesting."

  She flashed a lopsided smile. "You mean, you hoped they would be more frightening."

  He sported a sheepish grin. "Yes, but that would've been fine if Eile and Sunny knew any stories connected with them, and they didn't."

  "I see." She had that look she used when she was amused by his naivete. "Pray tell, what would you like to know?"

  "For instance, that statue with the elephant head, the one you called 'chaw-nahr fawn'--"

  "Chaugnar Faugn."

  "Okay, but what is it? Why do we have it?"

  "That one was before my time. My father, your grandfather, acquired it with the help of your grandmother, before they were married." And she proceeded to spin a tale full of harrowing adventure, daring-do, and narrow escapes from horrible death that had him on the edge of his seat. It didn't end until after they started eating their dessert.

  "That was bloody awesome!"

  "Henry!" She threw him a disapproving look. "You shouldn't use that kind of language!"

  "You do, all the time!"

  For a moment she appeared shocked, but then an embarrassed scowl washed across her face. "I'm an adult--!" She caught herself and flashed a chagrined smile. "Which is no excuse. Still, you're really too young to talk like that."

  "Mrs. Widget told me you used to say worse when you were my age."

  "Hmph. I'm going to have to have a talk with her about speaking out of school."

  "What about a simple cube?"

  Caught off guard, she blinked in surprise. "I beg your pardon?"

  He didn't know why he had mentioned the block. Maybe his conscience was getting to him, but he couldn't take it back. Still, he figured if he was careful, he could learn something about it before he tried to solve it.

  "I saw this cube; it was so big--" He pantomimed a four-inch square space with his fingers and palms.

  "What did it look like?"

  "It was dark and plain; I couldn't see any features, but its corners and edges were rounded."

  She developed a thoughtful look. "That doesn't sound familiar." Then she smirked. "But truth be told, I don't know half of what's down there. That's why I wanted to conduct an inventory. I could check the Girls' record, but they had to leave before they could finish."

  He shrugged. "No, that's okay. I doubt it could match the statue story. Any others like that?"

  She grinned, and told him another, about an icon she and his father had recovered from Serbia without Vlad's help. It took them well past the tea hour, during which Aelfraed and the maid returned to clear the table, but he hardly noticed them. He wondered if she might have been gilding the lily a bit, but it was too spine-tingling for him to care.

  After she finished, she got a call from Sharona Turing about an incident unfolding in Cambridgeshire, so she walked him back to the children's bedroom before heading down to Intelligence on the ground floor. He found it ironic that after making up an excuse to get out of spending time with her, something had come up after all, as it always seemed to. Once she left, though, he pulled out his notebooks. He did have homework, and he didn't want to have to explain why he hadn't completed it, but it was less than he made it out to be. He figured he could be done in a couple of hours.

  At precisely 7:45, Aelfraed appeared with his bedtime snack: milk and a plate of biscuits. He had already finished a few minutes before, but pretended to be busy for his benefit. At exactly 8:03, his mother knocked on the door that connected his bedroom to her boudoir. He looked up as she opened the door.

  "Still at it?"

  "Yes, but I'm almost finished."

  "What is it?"

  "A report on the Cromwellian Commonwealth, with special emphasis on the Protectorate."

  "Very well, but don't stay up too late."

  "I won't."

  "Let me know when you're in bed, and I'll read to you."

  "Not tonight, please, I'm going to be pretty tired and I just want to go straight to bed."

  She looked disappointed again, even a bit hurt, and he felt a pang of remorse.

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes; I'm sorry."

  Then she flashed an irritated scowl. "You have no reason to apologize. If you're tired we can skip it. You're probably getting too old for that anyways."

  "No, I really enjoy it! How about tomorrow night?"

  She tossed him a grateful smile. "That I believe I can arrange. Any preferences?"

  "How about something from Le Morte d'Arthur; maybe, Gareth Beaumains, or, Gawain and the Green Knight?"

  "Very well. Good night, Henry, sleep tight."

  "Good night, Mother."

  She started to close the door, but hesitated and pushed it open again. "I'd like to read your report tomorrow."

  "Yeah, sure." She frowned, and he grinned. "Sorry."

  She gave him an amused smirk and closed the door.

  He waited until after Aelfraed brought her supper and picked up his glass and plate, and made a show of being finished. He changed into his pajamas and let Aelfraed tuck him in and turn out the light. He didn't go to sleep, through; he felt too keyed up, waiting for Mother to retire. She always tried to be in bed by nine, so she could spend as much time in the Dreamlands with his father as she could manage. He would know when she retired when the light showing under the door went out.

  He heard Aelfraed return for her supper things, but then his door opened. He squeezed his eyes shut and through the lids saw her shadow loom over him as she bent down and kissed him on t
he cheek. She retreated, closing the door behind her. He opened his eyes to watch, and in a few minutes the light under the door went out.

  He realized she was going to bed early. He threw off the covers and ran for the nearest window. From that angle he could see a window of her bathroom. After about five minutes a light came on behind the frosted glass, and occasionally her shadow passed over it as she crossed in front of the light. Fifteen minutes later it shut off again, and he knew she had gone into her bedroom on the other side of the wing.

  He was safe. He hurried over to the linen chest and dug down for the block. At first he couldn't find it, and in a momentary stab of panic he thought a servant had discovered it and turned it in. Frantic, he felt around for it and touched it, and almost fainted with relief. Pulling it out, he took it to his desk and turned on the lamp. He turned it around in his hands, examining it closely. As the light played off the surface, he thought he saw faces reflected in the sides, but they were so subtle and fleeting that he dismissed them as optical illusions.

  He spotted the finely etched lines and ran a fingernail along them, but frowned. A standard Bedlam block was composed of thirteen smaller blocks, but the pieces in that puzzle looked too big. He realized there couldn't be more than six, if even that many. That should have made the puzzle elementary to solve, but try as he might, not matter how he pushed, twisted, or pulled, none of the pieces moved even the slightest. He wondered if in fact it might have been solid, and only made to look like a puzzle, but he stubbornly kept at it. He had put himself through too much to just quit for no reason.

  He lost track of time, such that he could have worked on it for