Hell's Eyes

BRIANNA SHAFFERY

their workbench. “I was just telling Liza that a cerbertes so close to civilization is unlikely, though not impossible. I remain both hopeful that we will find nothing but also that we will find some clue to help Mr. Noblémyn.” Liza glanced up, having heard her name and thinking she was needed. Quirking her head at all that Herman had said, she interjected, “You hadn’t said as much to me. You only explained that the likelihood of a cerbertes this close to Halberry was slim.” Elsie watched as Mr. Basil opened and closed his mouth, blinking harshly for a moment before giving a rather flustered quip in reply. “Well, I hadn’t thought of my hopes until just now, so there.” Elsie bit back a smile, turning her head away. “Anyhow, we’ll lose our opportunity to discover the truth of the matter if we don’t leave now. Shall we, Miss Hyacinth?” “I suppose we shall,” she sighed, taking a step toward the door. “I hope to see you later, Liza. If not, please remind my mother that Ms. Weaves prefers the loquette loaves, not the honey-and-herb loaves.” “I’m sure there won’t be any need, but in the event that there should be, I’ll pass along your reminder.” “And remember: Mr. Noblémyn must receive that tonic every hour as the sand runs out,” Mr. Basil added, pointing to an hourglass by Mr. Noblémyn’s bedside. “I know.” Liza waved him off with a huff. “No need to spill a jay’s tears.” Herman scoffed. “I would never. A jay’s tears are too precious to spill. Well then, if you’re quite confident that you have things handled, Liza, we’ll be going.” Liza hummed lightly. “I’ll have lunch prepared for your return.” Elsie’s stomach roiled at the thought of food. Still, she managed a weak smile and said as she and Mr. Basil stepped foot over the threshold and into the weak light of the nearing dawn, “Goodness, Liza, that’s much too thoughtful of you!”

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