Following Alek up the wide marble staircase towards the second floor, Claire found it difficult not to stare in awe. Everything from the rose wood paneling to the cream colored wallpaper bespoke of elegance, refined tastes, and wealth.

Even the sound of their footsteps dare not break the gentle silence and were muffled against plush navy blue carpets that ran the length of a long, narrow hall.

Hanging from the walls were large, elaborate frames of varying sizes and design and bore in their centers portraits of what Claire presumed to be Alek's family. They all looked so polished and sophisticated in their fine clothes and their perfect postures. Even the children looked serene as they stared down them from their lodgings. Claire knew it was silly, but she couldn't help but feel like they were watching them and wondering why such a ragtag band of travelers was doing tromping through their domain.

"Draz, you'll stay here," Alek said, grasping the brass knob of the first door they came across. He twisted it and pushed the heavy oak door open to reveal a simple but elegant room. Draz offered him a smirk and sauntered in.

"This room was much more impressive when I was younger," he mused, mostly to himself it seemed. Alek didn't offer any sort of response and instead motioned Claire to follow him.

"Here we are," Alek said. "It's the master suite, complete with its own adjacent bathroom."

Alek pushed the door inward and Claire gasped. The room was quite large and comprised not only of a large four poster bed but a small sitting area as well. A hearth, cold and dark in the absence of any residents, took up one wall and large, floor to ceiling windows covered by heavy drapes a deep wine red took up another.

"Isn't this where you sleep?" she asked, her eyes flickering towards his. He offered her a mischievous grin. He extended his arm outward, pressing his palm against the polished wood of the door frame, bracing himself as he leaned in close.

"What would you do if I said yes?" he asked, his eyes fixed on her own in a manner that made Claire's heart fluttered in her chest. Her mouth went dry and her hands suddenly felt clammy. She couldn't tell if he was being serious, and she couldn't decide if it would bother her, or relieve her, to find out he was teasing. Silence stretched between them as Claire struggled for words.

Finally Alek laughed and pushed himself away. Claire felt air rushing back into her lungs, oblivious of the fact that she had been holding her breath.

"I'm not much of a sleeper, haven't been for a long time," he admitted at last. "Because of that, I feel bad if I make a needless mess that Ms. Avery will insist on cleaning up. I have a study in the attic," he motioned towards a door at the very end of the hall, "the stairs are right through that door. If I get tired there is a couch."

Claire wanted to ask him why he didn't sleep, but something inside her held her back. Alek was an enigma, a mystery she was desperate to solve, but at the same time she found herself unwilling to do anything that might drive him away from her.

"I'll get a fire started for you, and you can take a bath if you like. The water takes a minute to heat but you should have no trouble figuring it all out, I think my mother has some things in the wardrobe. She's taller than you, and not as slim, but it should do until we can get you something proper to wear," Alek offered.

"Anything you can provide will be perfect, Alek, really," Claire replied. He'd done so much already there was no way she could offer any complaints. Alek nodded and brushed past her into the room. He headed straight towards the hearth and began to set logs from a nearby rack neatly into the andiron resting within fireplace. He added some smaller bits of kindling and struck a long match. Within minutes the warm glow filled the room, curling tongues of flame licking greedily at the dry wood.

"There," Alek said, dusting his hands off and rising to his feet. "That should do it."

"Thank you, Alek," Claire replied.

"Is there anything else you need?" He asked, pausing in front of her.

"Which way to the bathroom?" She inquired. He motioned towards a door on the other side of the room. "That is all I need."

"Alright then," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "Well, I'm going to get cleaned up as well. I'll come and get you when Ms. Avery is finished preparing the meal."

Claire nodded and fought a smile. It was always refreshing to see Alek's normally cool demeanor break. It just served as a reminder to her that despite his incredible abilities and his almost preternatural ability to stay calm under pressure, Alek was just as human as the rest of them.

Claire never made it to the bathroom.

In fact, Claire never made it past the bed because the moment she was close enough, she flopped back to test it, only to be instantly engulfed by warmth and softness.

Within minutes she was asleep and for the first time since arriving in this strange new world, Claire dreamed.

She stood midsts a sea of white flowers that stretched on for miles in all directions. They rippled and swayed around her, blown by a breeze she could not feel against her skin. In the far distance, standing stark against a blue-grey sky was a white pillar that nearly touched the clouds. Looking upon the pillar made Claire feel uneasy, but she couldn't look away. As she watched, black tendrils erupted from the top of the pillar and began to wind their way like snakes around the tower and towards the ground. The twisted and writhed until the tower was engulfed in blackness and then darkness spread outward. The tendrils sliced through the field with ruthless determination, leaving a path of destruction in their wake.

Run! Run now!

The commanding voice was not her own, though it was exactly what she wanted to do. It echoed around her as though hundreds of voices had spoken in unison. She tried to obey the command, but the ground beneath her feet was no longer firm. It was black and tar like, grabbing at her ankles and holding firm. She could feel evil emanating from it, as if the shifting, sinking sediment was a sentient being with malicious intentions. The more she struggled to free herself of its grasp, the further she sank until she found herself completely submerged in darkness.

Claire woke with a start, her hands rising instinctively to her throat as she struggled to draw air into her burning, aching lungs. It took several agonizing seconds for her to convince her brain that she wasn't suffocating and to drag in a mouthful of much needed air. Once she was breathing normally again, Claire was able to focus on her surroundings.

The room was dark save for thin lines of bright morning sunlight shining through gaps in the heavy drapes. She rose and stretched, tension easing from her muscles. Swinging her feet over the side of the bed, she rose, stretched once more, and then made her way quietly over to the curtains. Feeling through the many folds, Claire found where they met and threw them open as dramatically as she could.

A silly smile played across her face as sunlight flooded into the room. She had always wanted to do that but had never had the opportunity. Stepping up to the window, Claire found herself looking out over a moderately sized garden that spanned the length of the house. Beyond were more houses and beyond those, she assumed, were more houses, or perhaps businesses.

She lingered only a few minutes, watching birds as they fluttered between tall, towering hardwood trees whose bare branches were laced with snow, and then turned to make her way towards the wardrobe.

The clothing within was comprised primarily of dresses in varying colors, fabrics and styles. It was easy to see which were meant to be day dresses and which were meant for more formal occasions.

Towards the back Claire found a few pairs of fitted pants and some blouses. She took one of each along with a vest made of sturdy linen dyed a dark blue and lined with silver buttons.

Along the bottom of the wardrobe Claire found several pairs of shoes ranging from soft silk slippers to sturdy boots meant for colder, more inclement weather. She settled on a pair of soft leather slippers with hard soles and was pleased to discover that she and Alek's mother wore the same shoe size, or were extremely close.

Once she was dressed, she pulled her long hair back into a loose braid and ventured from the room into the hallway beyond. It was quiet, and the door Alek had showed her the night before was closed. Deciding she didn't want to disturb him, Claire took to exploring on her own.

One quick walk around was all it took for Claire to realize that all the doors upstairs were closed. Not wanting to get into trouble for snooping, Claire instead made her way down the grand staircase and to the foyer below.

There were two directions and Claire played a mental game of eeny-meeny-miny-moe to decide which way to go first. Following the path on the right hand side, Claire passed more closed doors, the last of which she finally gave into temptation and took a peek. It opened up into darkness, and Claire smelled the musty odor of wet dirt and stagnant air waft up to meet her.

Must be a cellar. She thought as she eased the door closed again.

At the far end of the hall, a set of half doors gave access to a large kitchen. Here the entirety of the household staff sat around a long wooden table enjoying a breakfast of biscuits and jam. There were five in total, Ms. Avery sat amongst them and their happy chatter fell silent the moment they caught sight of her. Ms. Avery stood up so quickly it caused the table and everything on it to rattle lightly.

"Miss Claire, you're up quite early, my dear," Ms. Avery said, looking a bit flustered. She picked up her tea cup as though to take a sip and then set it back down again. "Miss Arabella rarely rises before nine and, oh dear... we haven't begun to prepare breakfast yet."

Claire smiled, "It's alright, Ms. Avery, I didn't mean to disturb you. Please, enjoy your breakfast. I'm just doing a bit of exploring."

Ms. Avery looked unsure but eventually nodded and sat back down in her seat.

Claire turned to go, and then paused, "I do have one question, Ms. Avery."

"Yes, of course," she said, looking as though she were going to rise again. Claire motioned for her to sit.

"I saw a garden, from the window upstairs, how do I get to it?" Claire asked.

"Just go back down this hall and when you reach the foyer you'll see a door tucked back behind the stairs," Ms. Avery explained. Claire smiled again and nodded.

"Thank you," she said

"It's a bit chilly, dear, you might want to take a coat," Ms. Avery added and Claire smiled.

"I'll keep that in mind, thank you again," she replied before finishing her retreat from the kitchen.

Claire found the door just where Ms. Avery had said she would. It was obvious why Claire had missed it in the first place. She had to go around the back of the stairs and into a small mudroom to even see it. Borrowing a scarf and hat hanging on the rack beside the door, Claire pushed it open and stepped out into the cool morning.

A gravel path lead from the door and around the side of the house. Where the gravel ended, hard packed dirt took its place. Claire followed the path a short distance to where an arching trellis marked the entrance to the garden itself. It was covered in a growth of roses whose colors ranged from soft, pale pinks to vibrant reds and fiery oranges. What was even more striking about the roses, aside from the fact they were in bloom in midwinter, were the dew drops frozen upon the soft petals. They sparkled and shimmered like hundreds of tiny diamonds, further giving the roses an ethereal quality.

As she meandered along the path, which wound around trees and flowering bushes, some of which were familiar to Claire, a fair few, however, were foreign to her. That didn't mean much, however, as Claire made no claims of being a botanist.

She hadn't been in the garden long when she heard the faint strains of music. Curious, Claire found herself leaning closer to the flowers as she wandered, wondering if perhaps they were the source. It sounded crazy, but this place was full of things Claire couldn't quite explain.

As she moved deeper into the garden, the music seemed to grow louder and Claire felt her toes curl in her shoes as the music did to her what music always does, it took root. It was a lovely song, happy and yet sad. Her feet seemed to know what she wanted before she did, because her slow steps shifted gradually into graceful, sweeping motions and before she knew it, she was dancing.

The unusual song had taken hold of her dancer's soul, and the peace of the magical garden had acted as inspiration for her dreamer's heart. She was as much in control of her movements as she was the beating of her heart, or the need to breathe.

The hard soles and pliable leather of her shoes made it easy to turn and initiate simple jumps. Her body rejoiced in the movements, not used to going so long without the daily rigorous exercise that was dancing. Even her injured leg, which still ached when she spent too much time on it, wasn't enough to slow her down.

It wasn't long before Claire found herself with more space to move. The narrow, plant lined paths opened up to a large circular area in the center of which was a fountain. Water spouted from the top, to rain down into the stone basin at its base. The music was louder here, so loud that Claire was inclined to believe it emanated from the fountain itself.

She wasn't certain how long she continued to dance after the music had stopped, however, it wasn't until she felt eyes on her that her movements ceased. She spun around on her heel and spotted Alek watching her from an open window on the first floor of the house. It faced out towards the garden and offered a clear view of the fountain and surrounding shrubbery.

He offered her a light smile and gave a bow of his head before disappearing from view. Claire felt her cheeks grow hot with embarrassment, mostly over being caught. How silly she must have looked, prancing about the garden in such a childish manner.

The song had been so captivating though that Claire found it difficult to regret giving herself away to it. A thought struck her then and she found herself looking back towards the now vacant window. Had Alek been the one playing? Claire bit lightly on her lower lip and then finally gave into her curiosity. Looping her arms behind her back, Claire strolled casually closer to the window.

Sure enough, Alek sat behind the ivory keys of a grand piano. He seemed to be adjusting some sheet music on the stand in front of him. Claire watched as he positioned his hands over the keys, seemed to take a breath, and then began to play. His hands moved with a fluid grace along the length of the keyboard, his fingers seeking out each note with practiced ease. Several minutes ticked by and Claire watched, captivated.

If you had asked her, she would have said you played the piano with your hands, but watching Alek, it became more evident that this was far from the truth. Alek played with his entire body, leaning and swaying in time with the notes, allowing the melody to flow through him much in the same way she allowed it to flow through her.

"You plan to stand there and stare all day?" Alek asked, never looking up, never missing a beat.

The question startled Claire from her thoughts and she felt heat rising to her cheeks again. "You're one to talk," she replied, averting her gaze for a moment. It was difficult to look away for long, however, and Claire found her eyes drawn back towards him once again.

"Touche," he remarked with a smirk. "I'll be honest, I couldn't help myself. You're an enchanting dancer."

"I'm alright," Claire replied quickly, his unexpected praise causing her to turn a shade darker. "You play very well," she added, wanting to change the subject.

"I'm alright," Alek said, casting a coy smile in her direction. "My mother, Helena, she's the true musician in the family."

"She plays piano?" Claire asked curiously.

"Piano, violin, flute, but her specialty is the harp," Alek said, his fingers still sweeping across the keys. "She wanted me to follow in her footsteps, to her unending dismay, I wanted to be a magician like my father. Arabella has no interest in music whatsoever, no real talent either in my opinion. Don't tell her I said that, she'll hang me by my ears from the light post."

With a cant of his head, Alek motioned to the space beside him, his gaze flickering briefly to meet hers. "Why don't you sit? There is a door to the left there, you can let yourself in."

Claire glanced to the left and saw the set of narrow, glass paned doors Alek was referring to. Patting her cheeks in an effort to rid them of the blush, Claire left the cold of the garden and slowly approached the piano bench.

"I won't bite," Alek assured her when he sensed her hesitation.

Claire sat quickly after that, not wanting to give him any reason to think she was afraid, or nervous, or whatever one called the feeling that fluttered about in her stomach like dozens of excited butterflies.

He chuckled, the sound nearly swept away by the gentle music that seemed to flow from his fingertips. Claire took a moment to take him in, marveling at how different the man beside her seemed, than the one she had followed onto the train. When she had first encountered him, he had struck her as cold and unapproachable in both attire and expression, the fitted suit had bore no wrinkles, as though the fabric itself were too afraid to take the risk, and everything was in its proper place from the hat on his head to the shoes on his feet.

In that moment, however, he seemed fully at ease, even his clothing reflected his relaxed demeanor. The long sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows, the top two or three buttons of his collar had been left undone exposing brief glimpses of smooth flesh whenever he leaned in close to the keys. The black embroidered vest he wore hung completely open and was left to rest at his sides, the silver buttons glittering each time they caught the sunlight. If Claire hadn't known better, she would have believed this man to be Alek's twin.

"Do you play?" Alek asked, drawing Claire from her thoughts.

"Oh, well, a little I guess," she said. "It's been years, I took lessons as a little girl." Claire had enjoyed it, but dancing had turned out to be her true calling, her real passion.

"What can you play?" Alek asked, sounding genuinely curious as he tapped out a simple tune on the keys. It wasn't anything Claire recognized.

"Chopsticks?" Claire offered with a sheepish smile. Everyone knew Chopsticks, she wasn't aiming to impress him, however, so she wasn't overly worried.

Alek looked puzzled by this, as though he had never heard of the song before.

"You know," Claire said, tapping out the first few notes. He shook his head.

He didn't.

How in the world could he not know?

"Would you like me to teach you a song?" Alek asked, adding, "it's simple," before Claire could come up with a reason to say no.