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Salvation Part 2
When her eyes flew open, still mumbling her father's final words, it wasn’t the kind and loving face of her father hovering over her but rather the equally concerned, yet slightly unwelcome face of Cornelius Cane. “Corey?” she asked, her voice just above a whisper. “How did you…? Where is my….?” She began looking around the cave, desperately searching for her father. There was not a trace of him anywhere.
“Calm down, Serendipity,” Corey insisted, his hand on her shoulder. “You’ll be all right just as soon as we get you to some place warm.”
Serendipity noticed then that they were not alone. Snowshoes was standing just in front of the entrance to the cave, the baby reindeer alongside him. “Is that how you found me? With the light from the baby reindeer?”
“Yes,” Corey explained. “He was able to find your footprints, and then we followed you here, by the red
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“I do,” Serendipity nodded, looking into Corey’s eyes. “I’m not exactly sure what it was that happened to me when I was up there on the mountain, whether I truly had the opportunity to speak to my father through some sort of magic, or if it was just some sort of an hallucination brought on by my extremely cold state, but through that experience and talking to Mrs. Claus just now, I’ve come to realize that what happened to my mother and sisters was an accident. It truly wasn’t my fault, and I can’t spend the rest of my life feeling guilty or punishing myself.”A look of relief and a broad smile spread across Corey’s face. “Oh, Serendipity, it’s so wonderful to hear you say those words,” he assured her. “If coming here has allowed you to make that realization, and you should still choose to leave this place, never to return, then I should think this journey a success.”Serendipity s
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Marwolaeth Hall was an imposing structure with its steep roofline, ominous gables that numbered three, and the seemingly daunting sharpness of even its rounded turret that capped the bay window on the eastern side.It wasn’t necessarily the largest dwelling one might chance to come across in the moorland near the village of Dunsford, England, but it was certainly commanding enough to make one stop and consider the nature of those who would make such a place their home. Even in the daylight it seemed to whisper of treachery and consternation, and it was no wonder the original owners had given it such a fortuitous name.Serendipity Fizzlestitch had not called Marwolaeth her home for nearly eight years, choosing instead to occupy a much smaller, much less daunting cottage nearly twenty furlongs to the south of her original home, off in the woods where the trees blocked most of the view of the gothic structure. Not that she ever went out where she could potentially cat
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Several moments, perhaps half an hour, passed before Serendipity was satisfied with the smiling face, and she eventually sat the doll head down carefully on the roughly hewn wooden table that held her paints and turned her attention back toward the fireplace, certain that whatever wayward piece of postage had haphazardly found its way into her chimney would be long gone. But it wasn’t. It still sat there un-charred and unblemished atop the dancing flames, staring at her almost as intensely as the blank canvas she had just personified.Serendipity stood and stretched her back, noting that it no longer seemed quite as erect as it once was from so many hours of carefully examining her work, and crossed the few feet to the fireplace. Before she made a move to retrieve the stalwart article, she contemplated its existence a moment longer.Finally, taking the poker in her long, spindly, paint-stained fingers, she drew the envelope out of the flames, and it came to rest on
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