Mrs. Grace Dresden (née Boddington) spent her life surrounded by her inferiors. Her only joys were her piano-forte and the dream of her son, Peter, marrying into another, even more noble family. Imagine her shame, then, when Peter announced his intention to marry a shopkeeper’s daughter!
Surely, it was the terrible shock of this betrayal that killed her, and nothing to do with the strange, old book that her servant found clutched in her bloodstained fingers the next morning. And what does it matter if that same servant still hears the sound of her piano-forte echoing through the halls of Dresden Manor? Surely it must be her imagination.
Surely.
Dresden Manor
August 19, 18–
My dear, sweet Peter,
How dare you? I have learned of your intention to marry that Smythe girl. You, a Dresden and a Boddington, marrying a shopkeeper’s daughter? And to think that I learned of it from a delivery man. You didn’t have the courage to admit your betrayal to my face! After I have invested two decades of my life molding you, preparing you for greatness, you’d throw my work away for a common harlot? I will never allow this, never! I will harry you both like a Fury of old! You shall feel the wrath of a mother scorned!
Alas, my sweet boy, what chance could an innocent like you have had against such a siren? Don’t worry, Mummy loves you. And thanks to your grandfather, of all people, I’ve found a way to not only save you from this new mistake of yours, but also to protect and guide you forever! Aren’t we the luckiest family ever?
So let this be a lesson, you ungrateful wretch. Don’t you ever think that, just because you’ve reached your majority, you are suddenly in charge. I rule this household, now and forever.
And whatever you see, darling, don’t worry! Mummy knows what she’s doing. What I do tonight, I do out of my deep love for you, and I forever remain
Your devoted Mother
A page from an ancient book labeled: Comaundementz and Charmes, Of þe Drydés of þe Styigian Wood (Customs and Charmes of the Druids of the Stygian Wood). It has no named author. Some lines of text have translations in blue ink in the margin.
Cacche a beest
with fethres blake or fur (Catch a beast with black feathers or fur?)
By the firste lyght
of the newe moone
Broke his nekke
with youre owene handes
This is the vessel.
Kitte youre fyngur (Cut your finger)
so youre blood floweth
Dripeth thre dropes unto the vessel.
After a drope, speke thise wordes:
Opus necessarium
Opus imperfectum
Opus ultra mortem
Tosseth the vessel into a fyr
If that the fyr brenne (If the fire burns out)
and the vessel goth out (and the vessel steps forth)
Youre body wol dye
but it wol nat been youre ende
Youre spirit wol transfiguren (your spirit will transfer)
into the vessel (into the vessel)
Til that youre grete werk be doon (until your great work is done)
Or that youre vessel is again (or your vessel is again)
ybrent into asshe (burnt to ash)
There is a reddish-brown fingerprint in the margin, as if someone touched the page with a blood-stained finger.