Aesop's Secret (5 page)

Felix’s excitement was replaced with nervous energy as Stumpworthy’s imposing mansion came into view. The huge black iron gates closed behind the taxi as it drove up the long stone driveway, pulling to a stop in front of the thirty-two-room, grey-stone palace. Whatever tiredness he had felt after the long flight disappeared the instant he stepped out of the car and looked up the twelve marble steps that led to the massive, elaborately carved wooden front doors.

He pushed his glasses back in place and ran his fingers through his thick brown hair, trying to smooth its normal bushiness, then straightened his trousers and shirt as he began the climb towards the entrance. His stomach churned painfully with each step, and for the first time since leaving his bedroom back in Seattle, he wished that his parents were with him.

He was shown into the foyer, where a manservant named Hector asked him to wait while he announced his arrival. The entryway was easily the size of the Huttons’ entire living room and was decorated with the same mythological art pieces that his family owned, except that these were at least a hundred times bigger. In the centre of the room was a six-foot statue of Bes, the Egyptian god of mothers and children, with a massive lion head topping its squat body. Felix decided it was even uglier than the one they had at home.

At the base of the stairs was a huge statue of a Minotaur. It was taller than Bes by at least a foot and also more imposing. With the eyes in its bull’s head staring down angrily and its muscular man’s body poised to attack, Felix felt uncomfortable in its presence.

“Ah, Felix,” Professor Stumpworthy’s voice boomed as he came into view. “I told you I was a collector of mythological art.” He shook Felix’s hand, then gestured towards the Minotaur. “They were the guards of the king’s fortune. I must say that he is doing an excellent job protecting mine,” he laughed as he motioned for Felix to accompany him down a long hallway.

The marble floor of the hallway was covered in brightly coloured Turkish carpets, and the walls were lined with more sculptures and paintings depicting half-animal, half-human scenes. If Felix had hoped to escape the constant reminders of his ancestry, it wasn’t going to happen here.

Off the hallway on either side were magnificent rooms: a media room on one side and a music room on the other, a study on the left and a billiard room on the right. When they were almost to the end the professor stopped and smiled. “This is my library―my pride and joy and where I spend most of my time.” In an
after you
gesture he stood back and watched as Felix walked in.

Felix’s glasses slid back to the bridge of his nose as his head jerked up to look at the stained-glass domed ceiling three stories above the circular room. It was the most impressive place that Felix had ever seen. The first floor was comfortably furnished with three large sapphire-blue sofas and a big leather overstuffed chair positioned around a massive inglenook fireplace. On the other side of the room was a small study with a big wooden desk and chair. Luxurious colourful carpets lay across the marble floor, and bookshelves lined the walls between tall curved windows. A circular staircase at the other end of the room led to the upper galleries, where more books and windows lined the walls. Each of the upper floors opened to the centre of the room with low, ornately carved banisters serving as walls.

“I can see from your expression that you like my little sanctuary.” The professor grinned as he invited Felix to sit down on the closest sofa. “I’m happy to see that, because we’ve had a bit of a change with the scheduling at the school.” Felix looked nervously over as the professor sat on the sofa facing him. “Don’t worry,” he said, noticing Felix’s expression, “it’s only temporary, but we have a bit of a problem with the dormitory that you were meant to live in so you’ll be staying here with me for a while. I’ve also invited James Mulligan to stay with us for a few weeks; he has work to do at the school and it will be nice to have someone you know here while you get settled in. I hope that’s all right with you.”

Felix was at a loss for words. He glanced at the thousands of books that surrounded them, then smiled. “That would be great,” he said as he adjusted his glasses nervously.

Melinda’s eyes sprang open. Her room was dark except for a sliver of moonlight that shone in through the slit in her curtains. She was wide awake and knew that she would have trouble falling back to sleep, but she didn’t care. She was happy to have left that dream behind.

It had been three weeks since Felix had left for Paris and exactly three weeks since her dreams had turned into nightmares. She woke up each night worrying about Felix, her night dress saturated in sweat and her muscles trembling. Night after night her eyes would open with the same foreboding feeling, but because the uncomfortable images of her dream faded immediately, she didn’t know why.

The smell of formaldehyde was heavy in the classroom as Felix took his seat. Dr. Harmony Melpot stood at the table in the front of the room, waiting patiently for everyone to sit down. She was a tall young woman with an athletic physique and chiseled features that made her look almost statuesque. Her short blonde hair was always perfectly styled and her dark eyes were uncomfortably intense.

“Good morning, everyone,” she said curtly. “In a minute I will ask all of you to come up and choose a bullfrog, which you will be dissecting today.”

Felix heard a squeamish moan to his left and noticed that Rupert Merewether’s normal rosy complexion had turned green, which along with his shockingly scarlet hair made him look rather Christmassy.

“Amphibians are fascinating creatures,” Dr. Melpot continued. “Some have actually been found to transform themselves to survive, as in the case of the Spadefoot Toad.”

Felix’s hand shot up before he realized what he was doing. “Miss, what do they transform into?” he asked eagerly.

Dr. Melpot arched her eyebrows and met Felix’s eyes. “They stay as toads, Mr. Hutton,” she said firmly, while the rest of the class snickered. “BUT,” she continued with emphasis to quiet the others, “as tadpoles they develop into either carnivores or omnivores depending on the available food supply.”

After a short lecture the class focused on the dissection of their toad’s respiratory system until the bell rang. “Place your toads inside their plastic trays and seal the lid; we’ll examine the circulatory system tomorrow,” Dr Melpot announced. In a flurry of activity each student shoved their toad’s remains inside their containers, gathered their books and papers, and prepared to leave for their next lesson.

“May I have a word, Mr. Hutton?” Dr. Melpot called as Felix was nearing the door. He turned and smiled sheepishly, still a little embarrassed about his question earlier. She motioned for him to come over to her desk. “I have heard a lot about you from Professors Mulligan and Stumpworthy. I trust that you will be happy at the school and I hope you will feel comfortable in coming to me if you have any questions or need anything at all.”

Felix smiled uncomfortably. “Thank you, I will,” he said without conviction.

“I mean it, Felix,” she insisted. “If you have any problems at all, my door is always open.” Felix nodded and turned to go. Then she added, “I have read all of your mother’s books.”

Felix swung back around to face her. “Are you a mythology fan too?”

Harmony smiled for the first time, making her chiseled features appear less harsh. “I suppose you could say that, but I’m really more interested in truth. My uncle was an archeologist and taught me a lot about the history of civilizations along the same line as what your mother does.”

“My mother’s not an archeologist, she’s a writer.”

“What my uncle did with a hammer and chisel, your mother does with a pen.” She looked at the confusion on Felix’s face. “They both focused on uncovering historical truths. Your mother’s work has the potential to open people’s eyes and minds about unusual real-life facts previously considered only fairytales.”

Felix was beginning to feel nervous and wished they could talk about something else. “I’m more interested in science.”

“Science plays a role in almost everything we do, including understanding history. Professor Stumpworthy understands that very well,” she said with an almost disapproving grin. “In fact he and my uncle studied at university together: my uncle studied archeology and Professor Stumpworthy science. They became friends because of their mutual interest in uncovering secrets from the past. After they finished their schooling they worked on a few archeological projects together, my uncle using the tools of his trade and the professor, the tools of his. Many of their discoveries were published by the professor after my uncle’s death.” Again Felix thought that he detected a disapproving tone. “The professor was with him when he died. My uncle’s name was Joe Whiltshire.” She paused as if expecting Felix to recognize the name. “Ah, I can see that you haven’t heard about him. I’m not surprised, although they were friends and Professor Stumpworthy made a fortune by―” She broke off and shook her head. “You might ask him about their work together. I’m sure he will have a lot to tell you,” she said with a raised eyebrow.

The fire bathed the library in a golden glow as the first rays of moonlight shone in through the tall windows, giving the room a radiant quality. Felix had completed his homework earlier, and having just located the book about spore fungus that his botany teacher had recommended, he flopped on the sofa across from where Professor Mulligan seemed to have melted into the overstuffed chair.

It was very quiet, with the crackling and popping from the fire the only disturbances, along with the occasional wheezes and grunts from the professor. It was as a library should be but Felix was finding it difficult to concentrate.
Maybe it’s too quiet,
he thought. Back home he had learnt to concentrate with Melinda’s incessant chatter never that far away.

Felix looked over at the professor, who was casually flipping through the evening’s paper. “Professor,” he asked quietly, “did you know Joe Whiltshire?”

James Mulligan peered at Felix over the top of his newspaper. “I didn’t know him, but he and Horace were very good friends. What brings his name to mind?”

 Felix shrugged. “I was talking to Dr. Melpot about him.”

Mulligan collapsed his paper into his lap. “Ah yes― Harmony. She and her uncle were very close. In fact I don’t think she has ever really gotten over his death.” He looked thoughtful for a minute. “What exactly had she been telling you?”

“She said that his work was similar to my mum’s.”

Mulligan seemed to ponder this for a minute, then nodded. “I suppose it was. Whiltshire worked to dispel old myths about history and your mother tries to explore where mythology and reality are actually connected. Yes, I suppose you could say that it’s similar work.”

Felix leaned his head against the back of the sofa. “She suggested that I talk with Professor Stumpworthy about the work they did together.”

Mulligan squinted, then answered tentatively, “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. Joe Whiltshire has been dead for more than six years, but I don’t think that either Harmony or Horace have ever recovered from the shock. I always feel there’s a bit of tension between them.”

“She told me that the professor was with him when he died.”

Mulligan nodded. “I think that Horace still feels a sense of guilt about the accident, and I’m afraid that Harmony has a lot of resentment towards him.”

“I don’t understand,” Felix said, nervously adjusting his glasses.

“Putting it simply, I think that Harmony may blame Horace for her uncle’s death. You see, Joe fell into a very deep crevice while they were working in the mountains in Turkey. The terrain was very rugged, and after a five-day search, the rescue crew gave up, but Horace stayed for another two weeks trying to find him. Unfortunately they never found Joe’s body. Horace, poor man, has had to live with that sense of guilt and grief ever since.”

Felix’s mouth hung open. “But why would Dr. Melpot resent him for that? He did all that he could.”