This chapter is dedicated to @brittonshay for the awesome cover she made for me! Look at it, isn't it just fantastic?

Chapter Three

"Vera. Vera, wake up."

"Hmm?" she groaned, rubbing her eyes. Through her somewhat bleary vision Vera was able to make out her father standing over her, a frown marring his usual cheerful face.

"You fell asleep in my chair," he said. "You haven't done that since you were a little girl."

He looked at her with concern. "I remember you used to say that sitting in it made you feel safe when you were feeling scared. Are you alright?"

Vera smiled at him and cringed. "You're going to laugh at me, Papa."

He shook his head and mocked hurt. "I would never!"

"It was the book you let me read," she began. "You were right, it spooked me a bit. And Halsten was gone to the market so I was here alone. I knew coming here would make me feel better."

She looked up to see her father's shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

"I knew you would laugh! Shame on you!"

"I'm sorry, but you do get yourself worked up over the smallest things," he said. "It's only legend Vera; none of those creatures you read about are real."

She flushed slightly in embarrassment. "I know, Papa. I'm not a little girl anymore and I don't believe in fairytales or monsters. It was just a moment of foolishness. I'm fine now."

Her muscles ached horribly from being cramped in the chair for so long. "Somehow there seemed to be less soreness the last time I fell asleep in this chair."

"That was before you gained nearly a foot in height in a single year," he said. "You're taller than your mother was at nineteen, that's for sure!"

Vera stopped stretching her sore muscles and turned to face him. Her father rarely ever spoke about her mother anymore, not that she blamed him. Her parents had been very much in love and after her mother's death he was a broken man. He had given up his career as a brilliant solicitor, running off to Egypt and leaving Vera behind with a nanny. He eventually became an archeologist and Vera would visit him periodically when she wasn't in school.

"Really?" she asked, almost fearing he would realize what he had said and clam up again. "I can't remember her much anymore."

"She was taller than me by only a small margin, but you, my towering Amazon, have surpassed us both!"

Vera felt a bit self-conscious at his nickname for her, but she knew he had meant it as a compliment. Her father had always praised the fact she was unique, saying she was an almost perfect combination of his and her mother's looks. Vera had received her father's golden, curly hair and her mother's slim figure and tall stature. When her friends and cousins teased her for not conforming to what girls her age should look like Vera always tried to remember the compliments her parents always gave her.

Her father's face had turned thoughtful and she could tell he was recalling all the fond memories he had of her mother.

"Have you had dinner?" she asked him as she made her way toward the door.

He shook his head. "Halsten was making French onion soup while I was downstairs. He said dinner should be ready in around an hour."

As her father's valet, Halsten's job description didn't include cooking, but seeing as neither she nor her father could even manage to boil water and they couldn't afford more help, the task usually fell to him.

Her father was speaking again, but Vera's growling stomach was distracting her and causing her to imagine what wonderful meal Halsten was downstairs preparing instead of listening.

"...was quite upset at the mess on the floor."

"I'm sorry, what?" Vera asked as she heard the end of his sentence.

"I said Halsten was upset about some mess in the kitchen. Do you know anything about that?"

He folded his arms across his chest and tried to look stern. It almost made her laugh. Her father had never been very good at discipline.

"I apologize, Papa. It was right after I finished reading that book you loaned me and I thought I heard a sound in the kitchen."

A well placed pout and contrite look was all it took for him to relent.

"Well next time, young lady, you clean up your mess, understood?"

She grinned at him and gave him a silly salute. "Sir, yes, sir!"

He laughed before shooing her out the door. "Go apologize to Halsten. He had to clean up your mess. I'll be down for dinner shortly."

Vera huffed in frustration but did as she was told. Halsten wouldn't be as forgiving as her father, she knew. She would probably have to agree to do some chores to make amends. She huffed and plodded down the stairs loudly.

"Haaaallllstten!" she called as she entered the kitchen in an attempt to grate on his nerves. He hated it when she was loud and said it was unladylike.

"Ms. Kirke, if you could please refrain from trumpeting my name and stomping about like a thunderous herd of elephants it would be greatly appreciated," he snapped in response.

"You have flour on you nose," she replied.

He pretended to ignore her, but she saw him swipe at his nose when he thought she wasn't looking. Vera snickered under her breath.

"Would you like to explain why there were tea leaves scattered all across the floor when I returned from the market?" He asked the question casually, but she could tell from his tone that he was annoyed.

"I'm sorry, Halsten. I meant to clean it up, but I fell asleep in Papa's study. Can you ever forgive me?

Once again she pouted and tried to look apologetic, but as she suspected the look did not work on him.

"Why didn't you clean it up as soon as it happened?"

Vera blushed. She really didn't want to tell him a book had scared her. She toyed with the end of a dishtowel and refused to look at him.

"Vera?"

He took the towel from her hands and tilted her head toward him. "What is it?"

She blew out a heavy breath and rambled, "T-the door opened by itself and then I thought I heard a laugh and I thought it was you, but you were gone and I was frightened. It's silly, I know."

When she finally looked up at him Vera was surprised to find he wasn't laughing at her. But the look of concern on his face made her feel worse. She felt like a child telling a parent she was afraid of the dark. And Halsten had always been so much more serious than her father. When she was younger she used to call him her guardian angel. Always looking out for her, always concerned. But she was an adult now, and didn't need looking after.

"So what are we having for dinner?" she asked in an attempt to shift the focus away from her.

Halsten frowned, but let the subject drop. "French onion soup. And there's no use in you hovering around like a vulture because it won't be done for several minutes. Go wash up."

She rolled her eyes at him, but left the room to do as she was told. After washing her hands and face at the basin, Vera plucked a book from her bookshelf to read until dinner was ready. It was one of her favorites, The Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby, by Charles Dickens. The story had been published in monthly installments and she had devotedly collected every single one. In an attempt to preserve the original newsprint copies her father had had a bookbinder make them into a book for her. It was one of her most prized possessions.

Vera had the words memorized by heart, so when she turned to the first page and didn't see the usual words she was stunned. Instead of Nicholas Nickleby, the first chapter seemed to resemble Jules Verne's A Journey to the Center of the Earth.

She flipped the cover over, just to make sure she hadn't picked up the wrong book, but the spine read The Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby, just as she thought. She shook her head and blinked several times, but the words on the page remained the same. Racing over to her bookshelf, Vera pulled down her copy of A Journey to the Center of the Earth. Instead of the book containing what it was supposed to, or even Nicholas Nickleby, the words inside were that of Louisa May Alcott's Little Women.

As she examined book after book from the shelf her frustration grew. None of the books had the correct covers! Vera took a deep breath and tried to figure out what was going on. Someone had to be playing tricks on her. Her eyes widened in realization. Halsten!

But would he really go to such extremes to get back at her for the mess she had made in the kitchen? She couldn't believe he would be so cruel. He knew how much she loved and prized her books. But who else did that leave? Her father couldn't have done it, he had been at the dig site all day – not that he would have done it anyway. He was the one who had paid for the books; she doubted he would take them apart just for a joke. A very cruel, sick joke.

Vera marched back into the kitchen and slammed her copy of Nicholas Nickleby – or A Journey to the Center of the Earth, on the table.

"Would either of you care to explain this?" she asked Halsten and her father, who were seated at the table.

Both of them looked at her in surprise.

"Well..." her father hesitated, looking at her in confusion, "it looks like the copy of Nicholas Nickleby I had bound for you."

"Yes, it does look like that from the outside, doesn't it?" she said. "But it isn't! Look!"

She shoved the book under her father's nose and pointed out the first chapter. "It's Jules Verne's A Journey to the Center of the Earth! Not Nicholas Nickleby! And they're all like that. Every single one of my books has the wrong cover!"

Her father looked from Halsten and back to her uneasily. "Vera, are you sure you're feeling alright? This book looks fine to me."

Halsten took the book out of his hands and examined it. "Your father is right, Vera. This is your copy of Nicholas Nickleby."

"What?" Vera snatched the book out of his hands and flipped to the first page. There, right under her nose, was the first chapter of Nicholas Nickleby, just as they said. The pages no longer showed Journey to the Center of the Earth. Racing back to her room, Vera checked all of her other books only to find they were all as they should be with no signs of ever having been tampered with.

"What is going on?" she mused aloud.

"Vera, I'm thinking maybe you should lie down and rest for a while," her father's voice said form behind her. "I think maybe you got too much sun yesterday."

Halsten was standing behind him holding a bowl of soup. "You can eat your soup in bed and then get some sleep," he said.

"Perhaps you're right," she whispered. "I just need some rest, right?"

They both nodded and she took the bowl out of Halsten's hands. They both turned to leave and return to the dining room. As they left she managed to make out Halsten saying to her father, "I don't think she should go out to the dig site tomorrow, Thomas. She's been a bit out of sorts all day."

"You're probably right, Halsten, but I'd like to see you convince her of that,' her father replied.

He was right, too. There was no way she was going to miss out on another day at the site. And she certainly didn't want to stay cooped up in the house with all of the weird events that had been happening. No, tomorrow she would go to the site and pretend like this day had never happened.

...

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