Free The White Forest by Adam McOmber Page B

opened her mouth and made a high, eerie whistling sound, like wind blowing through a crack in a windowpane.
    At the sound, the stag bounded away, and the woman, if she could rightly be called a woman, gave chase. As she came close to the clearing, I saw her mantle was dark and red.
    I dropped the Bible from my hands, and the smell of Nathan Ashe was once again everywhere around me, so thick and cloying I found it hard to breathe. The book had fallen open to a specific page because the spine was broken, and I leaned down and saw thatNathan himself had scrawled over the Bible’s verses there in ink. I recognized his handwriting but not the message. He wrote: In the beginning was not the Word. In the beginning was She, Red Goddess, the Unnamed. Here before the world was made. Here after it is laid to ruin.
    I wondered if it was the Red Goddess who pursued the stag through the woods, and if so, what did she want from the poor, suffering beast?

CHAPTER 6

    B y week’s end, Maddy’s prediction had come true, and I’d received a summons to meet with Inspector Vidocq at his makeshift office, set up in the second-floor parlor at Ashe High House. It was on the very morning of the interview, while I was still in my dressing room, donning my gloves and steeling myself for the encounter, that something unexpected and unwanted occurred. It was an event which shook me enough that I wondered if I’d be able to navigate the upcoming interview at all. A knock came at my dressing room door, and when I answered it, I found Miss Anne standing in the hall looking rather flummoxed. “A messenger brought this for you, Jane,” she said, holding out an envelope that had been sealed with dark wax. “He says he’ll wait for your reply. I didn’t let him in the house. He’s . . . well, a rather ragged-looking fellow, and I was afraid he’d track dirt or something worse inside.”
    “Who would send me a message?” I said, more to myself than to Miss Anne. The fact was, I didn’t really have any acquaintances other than Maddy and Nathan. Even Father’s relations rarely spoke to me anymore.
    “I wouldn’t know,” Miss Anne replied. “But if the master is anything like his messenger, I doubt very much this could be anything good.”
    I broke the wax seal and found the letter within written in a florid script—a hand that I did not recognize.
    My Dear Miss Silverlake,
    Please accept my apology for not introducing myself at an earlier date. Now that I finally take up my pen, we are both involved in such desperate affairs that you will likely think me some opportunist. But I assure you, I have been making my way toward an audience with you for longer than you can know. In all honesty, I’ve been working toward this meeting for most of my life—though I did not know your name or even if you existed.
    You are aware of my group in Southwark, I assume, and our failed attempts at reaching what religious men call transcendence. I assure you, this failure is not the product of a misguided philosophy as some would argue. We have failed, quite simply, because we lack the necessary means to achieve the outcome we seek.
    I believe all of that is about to change, Miss Silverlake, because of you. Before his disappearance, young Nathan Ashe told me a great deal about your nature and led me to believe that you may, in fact, be the key to my lifelong quest. I must admit I am somewhat concerned about the veracity of his claims, especially in light of recent events. Nathan Ashe was not precisely what any of us believed him to be. But I would very much like to meet with you and come to some deeper understanding of your situation.
    Please do not think I’m being mysterious here. I know I have a reputation for such a manner, but I assure you that I come to you in a spirit of sharing what I know. If what Nathan says is true, we may be able to help one another greatly. In fact, together we may be able to help the entire world. Send word with my boy as to