Page 15 of Tanglewood Legacy (The Three Sisters 3)
Pierre laughed. “Scary stories to frighten children who won’t obey. Vampires don’t truly exist.”
Interesting. So the people here didn’t believe in vampires. But they most certainly believed in and feared witches. Medea was right; Isis and her sisters needed to be very careful, because one slip and they would likely be blamed for the vampire’s victims.
They’d reached the second floor and the end of the hallway, where a door waited. Pierre opened it for her, and cool night air wafted over her. It might as well have been a portal to another world. She was standing on one of the terraces she’d seen from below, looking out over the parish, a star-studded night sky above her. At the center of the alcove, a contraption stood. She recognized what it was immediately. She’d used something similar in Darnuith.
“You own a telescope!” She gasped in wonder. “This is an observatory.”
A twinkle of excitement danced in his eyes. “Two, actually. Are you familiar with their use?”
“Oui.” When he seemed surprised, she added, “There was an observatory where I am from.”
He looked utterly confused. “I was not aware of any astronomers in the region of Provence, and I am a member of the Royal Academy of Sciences.”
She chastised herself internally. Why had she admitted knowing how to use the machine? When would she learn that many things in Darnuith did not exist here? Technology she’d taken for granted was in its infancy here.
“It was a private endeavor by a wealthy businessman,” she explained quickly. “I would hardly call its use scientific.” She hoped he’d buy the explanation.
He seemed to because he adjusted the viewer and gestured to it. She peered through the lens and gasped. Goddess, the glory of it. The stars seemed to go on forever, and through the telescope, the Earth’s singular moon looked close enough to reach out and touch.
“This,” he said formally, “is what I do.”
She turned her face from the viewer. “You chart the stars?”
“And more. Only two years ago, I observed a total lunar eclipse and, earlier this year, the emergence of Jupiter’s moon. I believe I can use the observations to improve the accuracy of our maps and pinpoint the location of la Nouvelle-Orléans in relation to Paris.” The topic seemed to ignite a fire within him until he glowed with boyish exuberance.
She smiled softly. “I think your passion for the heavens is contagious.”
He moved closer, his hand lifting to touch the viewer. She didn’t move away, and his fingers brushed hers. The scent of him, like sawdust, whiskey, and virile male. Her pulse reacted, and the shadows slithered around her ankles. What would it feel like to kiss him? She’d only kissed one man before, Brody, a friend in Darnuith whose lips ignited nothing within her when they touched her own. How different it would be with Pierre, who’d enchanted her without any magic at all.
“With a name like Isis, I’d be surprised if you weren’t passionate about the heavens long before me.” He fixated on her mouth. “I never asked, how did you come by such a name?”
Isis remembered the lie she’d told Delphine, but for some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to lie to Pierre. “My parents believed the goddess helped them survive a difficult time in their lives.”
“Fascinating. I studied her in university. She’s a compelling mythological character.”
She grinned.Mythology. If he only knew how very real Isis actually was.
“I wish now I’d spent more time studying astronomy, but the truth is, I’ve never had the fervor you seem to about the stars. Certainly, I appreciate their beauty, but they are so far beyond our reach. It’s not as if they hold answers to life’s deepest questions.”
“Don’t they?” He stood back a step and lifted his chin, taking in the fullness of the night sky. “Aren’t we told that we are bound for the heavens when we die?”
Isis gave a light laugh.
“You do believe in heaven, don’t you?”
She schooled her features and cleared her throat. There was an afterlife. She’d seen it—well, not precisely the final destination in the journey, but the stepping-off point. How to say it, though, in a way that would suit his mind. “I do believe in heaven.” She nodded. “But I don’t believe it’s there.” She pointed at the stars.
“Then where?” His voice was quiet now, and she heard old grief weighing down its volume. Pierre had lost someone, and this question was personal. “Where does death take us when we die?”
She placed her hand on his arm. “It’s another realm. Another…reality, as real as our own but not accessible by us in this form.”
“You say it with such certainty.”
“Because I am sure.” What was she doing? She was circling much too closely to the truth right now. “Only because I’ve experienced loss and followed death in my dreams.”
He turned to her then, his hand coming to rest on top of her own. His eyes were the most arresting shade of gray, like polished steel. “I know that feeling. I lost my father only five years ago.” He breathed a deep sigh. “That’s it, then.”
“Hmm?”
