Willows whiten, aspens shiver.

The sunbeam showers break and quiver

In the stream that runneth ever

By the island in the river...

-- Alfred Lord Tennyson, The Lady of Shalott (1832 version)

River Erne

Outskirts of Enniskillen

6 September, 19—

From her boat Katy could see everything up and down the river. On the left bank was the house she and her siblings shared with their grandmother, and beyond it was the outskirts of the town. On the right the river wound away among small islands and disappeared around a corner. Directly opposite her was the recently-built house with its garden running down to the water's edge. Someone had bought it but hadn't yet moved in. Every day Katy saw people bringing furniture into it, hanging up curtains, and generally getting it ready for the owner.

Beyond it, up on a hill and almost hidden by the forest that surrounded it, was the Big House. Its grounds reached down to the river too, but there were so many trees it was impossible to get a good look at the Big House. Sometimes it was brightly lit up at night and the light from its windows seemed to dance between the branches. Sometimes it seemed to fade away and be swallowed up by the forest.

Katy, being all of nine years old, amused herself by sitting on her boat and imagining fairy-tales about the Big House. It was under a spell, she thought. An evil witch had cursed the house and everyone in it. They were waiting for the prince to come and wake the princess with a kiss.

It was washing day. Granny had kicked Katy out of the house so she wouldn't get in the way. As usual on days like this, Katy came down to her boat and pretended to be a pirate. She had learnt how to swim as a very small child and she knew never to go out onto the river without one of her siblings, so Granny had given her permission for this.

For ten minutes Katy imagined she was sailing in a terrible storm. Then she discovered buried treasure (a few pebbles stood in for this) and had to duel a rival pirate (otherwise known as the mast) with her razor-sharp sword (a stick). Captain Katy was victorious, and then was faced with the conundrum of how to make her rival walk the plank without throwing the mast overboard.

She was considering this when she saw him.

Katy had never got a good look at anyone from the Big House. The most she'd ever seen was a glimpse of figures moving through the forest. Sometimes she heard a shot, which she knew was just a groundsman shooting a rabbit but which it was more fun to believe was a magical battle.

No one from the Big House ever came down to the path beside the river.

And yet, a man had just appeared out of the forest like a ghost.

Katy dropped down beneath her boat's gunwale. Half-believing her own fantasies about witches and curses, she reached for the telescope and peeked warily over the side.

Her caution was unnecessary. The man seemed completely oblivious to both her and her boat. He paced back and forth like an animal in a cage. Katy kept the telescope trained on him.

To her eyes he seemed very old, almost as old as her grandmother. She was mildly surprised to see his hair was light brown instead of grey. His clothes were black. If she had been a little older with more knowledge of fashion, Katy would have wondered why a man was wearing full evening dress early in the morning. She would have wondered even more at him being outside without a hat. As it was, she merely marvelled that she couldn't see a single patch on his clothes.

Another man emerged from the forest. The first man stopped pacing and turned to confront the second one. They argued for several minutes. Voices carried across the water, but although they were speaking English their accents were strange. Katy caught a word here and there. None of it made sense.

Then something happened. Something so startling that Katy dropped her telescope. When she picked it up again with shaking hands, the first man had vanished. The second man stood on the path for a minute. He shrugged and walked away. The forest closed around him.

Katy sat frozen. She tried to make sense of what she'd seen.

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Lennox House

Enniskillen

21 February, 19—

It was rare that someone could point to a specific date and say, "That's when everything went wrong." But if Mrs. Skinner was asked, she would have no hesitation: everything went wrong on the sixth of September last year.

Things hadn't exactly been perfect before that. A full year earlier, young master Alec had been forced to marry That Woman. Mrs. Skinner refused to think of the current Lady Kilskeery as anything but That Woman. She was an American millionaire's daughter married solely for her money, but that could be forgiven. She knew as much about good manners as the butcher's boy knew about the geography of Peru, but that could be forgiven. She rejoiced in the outlandish name of Gwladys, but that could be forgiven.

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What could not be forgiven was how she had made young master Alec miserable.

Mrs. Skinner had been the housekeeper at Lennox House since before the young master was born. She had seen him grow up and looked on him with as much pride as his own mother did. She still thought of him as young master Alec even though he was now Lord Kilskeery, and no force on heaven or earth could make her realise he was a man of twenty-four instead of a little boy. And as a direct consequence of all these facts, she hated his wife.

The previous Lord Kilskeery had chosen That Woman for his son in spite of his son's protests. Master Alec had to be practically dragged to the church. The honeymoon had been cut short when the young master couldn't put up with his wife any longer and came home, leaving her in London to follow in her own time.

Things had not improved over the year and a half since then. The couple alternated between stony silences and blazing rows. Not even the birth of their twin sons made a difference. All it did was give them something new to fight about.

September last year was when everything got worse. It had been caused by a visit from one of Master Alec's school friends. He and Master Alec had some sort of fight that ended in him leaving abruptly. Ever since then the young master had been behaving... bizarrely.

Mrs. Skinner had never missed a church service in her life and took a serious view of religion. All the same, the young master's newfound religious zeal struck her as excessive. He was constantly praying, constantly reading theological works, constantly going to church services and visiting pastors. He wasn't content to stay in the Church of Ireland. Instead he went to Presbyterians, Methodists, and Baptists. He had even shown an interest in whatever strange religion they had in Russia, to the consternation of his mother and Mrs. Skinner.

It was very odd in a man who had once looked on church-going as a necessary evil.

Even odder were his abrupt changes of mood. One minute he would laugh, the next he was in the depths of despair. He had used to love walking beside the river in the evening, now he refused to go near it at any time.

Naturally, That Woman took a dim view of all this. Mrs. Skinner was alarmed to see bruises on Master Alec's face after an especially nasty argument.

Now Alec had practically retired from the world. He spent all his time in his study. According to him he was compiling a theological encyclopaedia. That Woman acted as if this was her house. She invited all her friends to her never-ending parties, and the things that went on were enough to make Mrs. Skinner consider giving notice.

Lately Alec and That Woman ignored each other's existence. But today Robbins the footman came with a strange tale. He burst into the kitchen looking as grave as a judge pronouncing sentence. Instead of telling his news at once he made cryptic comments that baffled everyone.

Finally he decided to enlighten them all. "She has ordered the master to dismiss Eames!"

A stunned silence followed. David Eames — Mrs. Skinner had considerable doubts if that was his real name — was Alec's valet. He had joined the household during Alec's interest in Russian Orthodoxy. Apparently he had a Russian mother, and from her had learnt enough about the religion to answer Alec's questions. (Personally Mrs. Skinner thought that, although Eames may well have a Russian mother, his father was something even more foreign.) It was an odd reason to choose a valet, but lately Alec did nothing but odd things.

"What has Eames done?" Lily the kitchen-maid demanded.

Robbins shook his head. "Nothing, as far as I can tell. Seems her ladyship just doesn't like him."

Mrs. Skinner's curiosity got the better of her. She left the kitchen and headed towards the young master's study. She took a shopping list with her so she would have the pretext of wanting to ask what he wanted for Sunday dinner.

The door was closed. She could hear muffled voices inside. Outside was the man the whole fight was about. He clearly did not share Mrs. Skinner's opinion on listening outside doors. His ear was practically glued against the keyhole. When he saw her coming he leapt away guiltily.

The most well-travelled observer would have had trouble telling where David Eames was from. He was lightly tanned, with very large eyes, so dark brown they were almost black, and jet black hair. Guesses from his fellow servants included Greece, Italy, and even Egypt. The one thing absolutely no one believed was that he was a half-Russian Englishman named David Eames.

Mrs. Skinner was suspicious of him on principle. All the same, she had never proved he was guilty of anything worse than being a foreigner. She disapproved of all foreigners, especially ones of uncertain origin, but even so she was sure he had done nothing to deserve being fired on a whim. He did his job conscientiously, and his only definite flaw was that he kept the other servants at rather more than arm's length.

The voices were getting louder, though the words were still indistinct. Mrs. Skinner judged it was time to interrupt the argument. She rapped sharply on the door. The shouting continued without the slightest hint they had even heard her.

Suddenly the door was flung open. Mrs. Skinner and Eames jumped back. That Woman stormed out, screaming obscenities over her shoulder. She gave Eames a look full of venom. Mrs. Skinner was certain that she would have killed him on the spot if she thought she could get away with it.

Young master Alec emerged from the study. He was very pale and shaking with rage, but there were no new bruises on his face.

He didn't look surprised to find an audience. "Mrs. Skinner, please inform Mrs. Lennox—" That was his wife; no one called her Lady Kilskeery in spite of her attempts to insist on it, "—that she may invite her friend to stay for as long as she likes."

Long experience of strange orders prevented Mrs. Skinner from openly showing her confusion. "Yes, sir."

"Am I to pack my bags?" Eames asked.

The young master gave him an odd look. If Mrs. Skinner didn't know better she'd say it was fear. "No. You aren't fired."

He went back into the study. Mrs. Skinner heard him lock the door.