Hunted

Nineteen: An Unexpected Request

Charlotte stood outside Daphne's study and took a steadying breath. She could feel her alteration prowling angrily back and forth in her mind, already defensive. She couldn't understand what had awakened it with such aggravation, though she knew it was probably due to her own fear, which was washing over her, the worries and doubts; her own worries and doubts. You can't fear her. She is nothing, it hissed. If you fear her how can you ever hope to defeat Elmhirst. Her alteration was in a particularly nasty mood today. She had never heard it so vocal, so much a part of her. "Shut up," she muttered under her breath. It wasn't helping her. It was only heightening her sense of unease. "If you could learn to ease fears, you would be so much more useful". Her alteration just lashed out its tail at her snide comment, continuing to prowl back and forth, waiting, as Charlotte pushed open the door, allowing the intense heat wash over her.

"Child," Daphne sighed by way of greeting Charlotte, as she moved into the room, feeling incredibly awkward.

"Good morning, Mrs Haskins," she replied, not venturing any closer than the door.

"Sit, sit child," Daphne said, waving her ring-clad hands distractedly, as Charlotte moved forward, shutting the door behind her and taking a seat on the sofa. Charlotte clasped her hands on her lap, as Daphne sat, observing her silently for a few moments. Her walking stick had been discarded on the floor beside the fire.

"Dear, I am worried about my grandson," she said plainly.

"Freddie?" Charlotte asked, going for the most obvious choice first.

"No. By all accounts he is past the worst of it," Daphne, frowned, taking her tiny glasses from her nose and folding them up. She left them on top of a newspaper, which was resting on the arm of her chair. "I'm talking about Matt. I think he has become... over-invested in this little adventure you are all having". Charlotte didn't understand what she meant and stared at her blankly waiting for further explanation. "How do you think he is coping?"

"I... he's tired," Charlotte hesitated.

"He's like death warmed up," Daphne corrected. "I don't like this, Charlotte. I don't like what has become of him. That Academy has ruined him - his father, Elmhirst and you, you've destroyed him". The words hit Charlotte hard. Was she actually placing her in the one group with Desmarais and Elmhirst? Her alteration snarled, snorting flames from its nostrils, ready to attack. Charlotte gritted her teeth, trying to hold on to it, to hold on to her anger.

"Mrs Haskins, I only have the best interests for your grandson. He's... my... friend," Charlotte argued, but the words didn't fit right. Matt was more than just a friend. At the moment he was all she felt she truly had, the only person who truly cared for her. If he was taken away, what would she have left in the world? Matt was this world to her.

"Child, don't try and act blameless. He went to that island for Harris and somehow you've managed to get your claws in him. He has risked everything, his life even, to bring you here. And now our lives are being put at risk too," she said plainly.

"I did not get my claws in him," Charlotte replied coldly. "I didn't even want to leave. I was forced, or did he not mention that?" She could feel her anger growing in ferocity as she gazed at this toad-like woman, with her plastered on makeup and wide mouth. It was all she could do not to stand up and walk out. Charlotte had nothing to do with how she had left the island. She hadn't want to leave, but those two had decided her opinion was not worth considering. She had had no say in the matter.

Daphne laughed to herself, watching Charlotte with a bemused expression. "Charlotte, stop being so naïve. If I offered to let you go back, would you go?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.