The Skylark Bell

In today’s episode we read Chapter 20 – Moonlight - in which Magpie and Lucas live parallel lives across time and space

Brought to you by: Phaeton Starling Publishing and Things with Wings Productions.

The Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.com

The Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbell

Author/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.com

Join Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveri

Melissa on Instagram: @the.mop.pod

Melissa on Twitter: @melissaoliveri

All music by Cannelle: http://www.cannellemusic.com

Cannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.music

This week's Boopod Network podcast partner is Shittin' Bricks: https://shittin-bricks.captivate.fm/

FULL TRANSCRIPT:

Things with Wings Productions presents: Episode 20 of The Skylark Bell, Wingspan. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.  

In our previous episode, Lucas came to the realisation that he had somehow travelled back to 1920s Pocket, and was living with Charlotte and Edward Carnifex and their son James.

In today’s episode we read Chapter 20 – Moonlight - in which Magpie and Lucas live parallel lives across time and space

Now, it’s time to settle in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink… and let’s get started.

A year has gone by. An entire year alone in Scotland without Lucas. They hadn’t found any sign of anyone, let alone a large horse, entering the forest in the days following Lucas’ disappearance. The first few months, Magpie spent a tremendous amount of time and energy trying to put the pieces together, trying to figure out what happened and where Lucas had gone. It just didn’t seem possible to her that he would just… vanish! But after endless weeks with not even the smallest clue as to his or Cormorant’s whereabouts, Magpie was confronted with the sad reality that he probably wasn’t coming back. Though deep inside a part of her still held out hope, she pushed herself to move on. Her mother came to stay with her for a while, but she needed to get back to Pocket to take care of their house and continue her work. 

For Magpie, some days are easier than others, today is one of the others. It seems everywhere she turns something reminds her of Lucas and their time in Pocket. She hears the meow of a barn cat and thinks of Scarlet, she makes blackberry pancakes with chocolate chips from his Grandma Gemma’s recipe. Now, she sits by the small window at the top of the stairs looking out at the sky, watching the moon rise against the fading blue sky… 

Suddenly she hears a knock at the door downstairs…

~~~~~~

Thousands of miles and several decades away, Lucas is sitting in his bedroom window at the farmhouse, the bedroom that would eventually become Magpie’s room, looking up at the very same moon and thinking of Magpie, remembering all the times they would walk home by moonlight from their adventures exploring the area, having forgotten, once again, to keep an eye on the clock. He wonders what she has been up to the past year, what conclusion she came to regarding his disappearance. He’s quite certain the truth has not occurred to her, no one would believe that he time travelled nearly 100 years and a whole continent in one step… with a horse no less!

Lucas has spent the year working alongside Edward Carnifex, learning carpentry. He’s surprised by how much he enjoys it and how naturally it comes to him. He has now taken to repairing furniture and coming up with his own creations to sell at the farmer’s market. He has taken on all sorts of projects from signs for local shops, to whittling animals as party favours. He has grown quite comfortable with his existence as Marius Corbeau in 1923. Things were more challenging and awkward at first, he knew most of the buildings in the small town, but none of the people, and they grew suspicious of him, a stranger, knowing so much about their town. But over the past several months he has been able to win them over, and word of his carpentry talents has spread, ensuring he is perpetually busy with work.

One of the special orders he recently received came from none other than Mr. Nathaniel Shearwater.  He asked Lucas to build a decorative box for his daughter Farfalla’s birthday. Explaining that she loves birds, he asked Lucas to engrave the box with a feather. Lucas spent weeks building the box, and it is a stunning work of art, complete with a lock and feather-shaped key that he found at Bunting’s General Store. Mr. Shearwater picked up the box earlier in the day and was so impressed he invited Lucas over for dinner tonight. Lucas is somewhat apprehensive… the last time he saw Farfalla she was over 100 years old! He hasn’t met her yet in this time, until yesterday she and her sister Paloma had been away at boarding school. 

Lucas is deep in thought when a knock on the bedroom door startles him out of his reverie…

~~~~~~

The door creaks loudly as Magpie opens it, “Oh hi Julien, come on in!” she says, smiling warmly. Julien Sarcelle has returned from Paris to take over the caretaking at Carnifex House. Manon and Alfred have agreed to stay on for a few weeks to get him settled into his new role, then they will retire to the south of France. Magpie and Julien have been spending a lot of time together recently as he learns the ropes, and Magpie has invited him for a late dinner.  

“I’m a little intimidated,” she begins “I’ve heard Paris has some amazing food… hopefully you won’t be disappointed!” she says to him.

Julien laughs “I’m sure whatever you make will be wonderful,” he says warmly, taking off his cardigan and draping it over the back of a rocking chair. Though summer has just begun, there is still a chill in the Scottish sea air.

“Okay well, I have put together some North American delicacies for you… are you ready?” she asks, a twinkle in her eye. Julien nods at her with anticipation. “Tonight, we are having…. Drumroll please….” At this Julien starts tapping his hands against his legs in a rapid drumroll. “… Mac and Cheese, Corn Dogs, some Cherry Cola to drink and to top it all off, homemade Apple Pie! Oh, but to keep you at ease, there will be ‘French’ Fries,” she says, laughing. 

Julien is silent, staring at her. “What are these things? Are these foods? I cannot eat a dog!” He says, a horrified look on his face. 

Magpie starts blushing, “Oh no, they’re not made with dogs, in fact these are veggie dogs there isn’t any kind of meat in them at all, it…” Julien’s raucous laughter cuts her off mid-sentence. He was just fooling with her! She gives him a push and smiles as she heads to the kitchen to grab their plates.

~~~~~~

Back in Pocket, Lucas turns to see Charlotte standing in the doorway. “You asked me to let you know when it was time to go,” she says, smiling at him.

“Thank you,” he replies, swallowing the lump in his throat so she won’t know how nervous he is. He heads downstairs, puts on his riding boots, and says goodbye to Charlotte and Edward before heading out the door. Lucas has been so busy today he neglected to take Cormorant out for a ride, so he has decided to take the long way over to the Shearwaters and give the horse a chance to stretch its legs. “

“Hey Marius!” he hears upon entering the barn. It’s Gordon Starling, nearly as tall as Lucas now. They’ve spent some time together over the past year. Lucas sees a lot of himself in Gordon, or perhaps it is the other way around… regardless, they both have a deep love of adventure and exploration. Gordon was a tremendous asset in helping Lucas navigate his new surroundings. Though he knew the town, there were still some stark differences, and Gordon was only too happy to bring Lucas up to speed. “I heard you were taking Cormorant out tonight; I’ve got him all saddled up for you!” he says. Considering Gordon is Lucas’ Great-Great-Grandfather, Lucas thinks it’s funny that Gordon looks up to him, almost like a big brother.

“Thank you so much, Gordon! I appreciate it!” he says, walking over to Cormorant’s stall. “Hello old friend,” he whispers to the horse. He feels a special bond with the animal, it is the only connection he has to his old reality. He leads Cormorant outside and hops into the saddle. Horseback riding has become second nature to him since living in this time where cars are a commodity mostly reserved for the wealthy.  Lucas and Cormorant race through the fields behind the Starling and Carnifex farms, then cross the street to the rock quarry and Mirror Pond before heading toward the apple orchard behind Meadow Lane.

Thank you so much for listening.  Join me next week for Wingspan chapter 21, Moving Forward Looking Back, where Magpie and Lucas come to terms with their respective situations.

The Skylark Bell is brought to you by Phaeton Starling Publishing and features original music by Cannelle. If you are enjoying this story, please consider leaving a rating on Spotify or a review on Apple Podcasts, they help give the podcast visibility so others can find and enjoy the story. You can also support my work by subscribing to my Patreon where you get early access to episodes as well as MP3 downloads of the music, artwork, behind the scenes videos and more! Just check the show notes for links to Patreon, my website, and social media accounts.

Before I go, I’d like to share this reel for a podcast I quite enjoy called Shittin’ Bricks. Kate and Dominic are fantastic hosts who take a deep look at things that bring people fear. If you enjoy the supernatural atmosphere of The Skylark Bell you’ll want to check them out.

Again, thank you so much for listening. I'm Melissa Oliveri and this is The Skylark Bell podcast.

In today’s episode we read Chapter 19 – One Step Forward, One Century Back - in which Lucas comes to terms with the fact that he has travelled back nearly a century to early 1920s Pocket.

Brought to you by: Phaeton Starling Publishing and Things with Wings Productions.

The Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.com

The Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbell

Author/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.com

Join Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveri

Melissa on Instagram: @the.mop.pod

Melissa on Twitter: @melissaoliveri

All music by Cannelle: http://www.cannellemusic.com

Cannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.music

Horror Roulette Podcast: http://www.horrorroulette.com

FULL TRANSCRIPT:

Things with Wings Productions presents: Episode 19 of The Skylark Bell, Wingspan. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.  

In our previous episode, Manon Sarcelle recounted the mysterious disappearances of several people in a conversation with Magpie.

In today’s episode we read Chapter 19 – One Step Forward, One Century Back - in which Lucas comes to terms with the fact that he has travelled back nearly a century to early 1920s Pocket.

Now, it’s time to settle in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink… and let’s get started.

Lucas has no notion of how long he’s been sleeping. The past several hours, or days, are a haze… a kaleidoscope of blankets, muffled speaking around him, sipping soup from a mug, the crackling of a fire nearby. Finally, today he feels a little more clearheaded, and he sits up in bed to get his bearings. He is in a small, simple room that feels vaguely familiar. He notes a wooden dresser and wardrobe, with matching nightstand by the bed, a small wooden chair in the corner, and a handmade rug on the floor. On the nightstand he sees an antique oil lamp and a carafe with water, a half empty water glass next to it. A gentle knock on the door startles him, and the door slowly creaks open to let a smiling woman with gentle brown eyes into the room.

“Good afternoon, Marius. How wonderful to see you sitting up, you must be feeling a bit better!” she says happily. “Is there anything I can get you? Perhaps some stew? Or maybe a cold washcloth for your face?” she asks.

Lucas feels disoriented. He looks out the window and sees a familiar scene outside; Mirror Pond in the quarry, and Meadow Lane to its left, a blooming apple orchard behind it and people working in the fields on either side. “Wh-where am I?” he asks.

“Oh dear, please forgive me, of course you must feel a little disoriented. You are just on the outskirts of a small town called Pocket. My name is Charlotte, Charlotte Carnifex. My husband Edward and I live here with our son James,” she says. 

Just then, Lucas hears the sound of a small bell and feels a sudden pressure on his feet at the end of the bed. He turns to look at sees a small cream-coloured cat with a brown face, paws, and tail. The cat gives him a knowing look with its striking blue eyes. “Scarlet!” he whispers under his breath.

“Oh! This is Cerise, my cat! She doesn’t like to feel left out, follows me absolutely everywhere!” laughs Charlotte.

Slowly, the veil is lifted from Lucas’ mind. The impossibility of the situation sending him reeling… He has time travelled. He is in Pocket. It must be sometime in the 1920s. Charlotte and Edward Carnifex are the owners of what would eventually become Magpie’s house. Scarlet the cat, whose… ghost, for lack of a better word, would eventually visit Magpie in the future, is here now, alive and well, living under her original name of Cerise. How any of this is possible is far beyond his comprehension and trying to sort it out is far too overwhelming. Lucas decides to keep things simple. They think he is Marius Corbeau, so be it. He will assume the name until he can find a way home, a way back to Magpie.

“You know, some stew and a cold washcloth sounds great,” says Lucas, smiling at Charlotte.

She nods and turns toward the door. As she is about to step out, she mentions “Oh, you’re probably wondering about your horse, we brought him to the stables next door, he is safe and well cared for. What an incredible animal he is, I’ve never seen anything like it! Where is he from?”

“Cormorant… He came with me… from Europe…” stammers Lucas, realizing that the stories he heard about Marius and his horse are actually playing out as written. He starts to think of how those stories end, but pushes those thoughts to the back of his mind. He would be back home with Magpie in his own time long before any of that took place. 

Later that day Lucas feels well enough to get out of bed and explore his surroundings a little. Around the corner from his room, he sees the stairway to the attic in its original form, before Edward walled it off when they left the house in the terrible winter of 1925. He realizes that Magpie’s closet hasn’t been built yet, that it will probably be created at the same time as the attic stairway is hidden. Lucas heads up the staircase to the attic, flashbacks of he and Magpie just a couple of years ago… or 90 years into the future depending on how you look at it… bouncing around in his mind. The attic is relatively bare, though the cradle with James’ name engraved on the side is up there, along with a rocking horse and dress form. He walks to the small round window that looks out the front of the house and sees Meadow Lane in the distance. 

Lucas is lost in thought when a sound behind him catches his attention, the bell on the cat collar.  Cerise walks up to him and rubs up against his legs.  “Hello old friend,” he says to the cat “Long time no see.” He bends down to scratch its ears and the cat purrs loudly. “Alright, why don’t we head downstairs,” he says. The cat looks up at him with its large blue eyes, like it knows everything about everything; the past, the future… He wishes it could tell him how to get back home.

“Ah, hello son! Back up and at ‘em, eh?” Edward Carnifex is sitting at the dining room table as Lucas is coming down the stairs.

“Yes, feeling much better sir, thank you so much for your kindness and hospitality,” replies Lucas.

“Make no mention of it, here in Pocket we help each other out!” he replies. “Charlotte told me you’ve come all the way from Europe, you and your beast of a horse!”

“Yes, that’s right,” replies Lucas. Technically, it’s not a lie… he just hasn’t mentioned that along with the distance he also travelled back nearly 100 years and has no idea how it happened.

“Are you just passing through or will you be staying in town for a while? If you’re needing work, I’m a carpenter and have been looking for an apprentice, I reckon you’d do a fine job,” he says, smiling warmly.

“To be honest with you, I haven’t quite decided what I’m going to do just yet, but for the time that I’m here I’d be honoured to learn from you and work by your side,” he says. Just then a boy, perhaps 14 years old, saunters into the room, his blond hair rebelliously pushing off his head in different directions.

“Marius! I’d like you to meet our son, James! I’ve asked him to be my apprentice, but he has other notions… likes working with numbers and papers and the like this one, he’ll make a fine businessman or accountant someday I reckon!” he says, playfully ruffling the boy’s hair.

“It’s nice to meet you, James,” stammers Lucas, in awe that he is shaking hands with the boy who would grow up to be Magpie’s Great-Great-Grandfather. The whole situation is surreal!

“Nice to meet you as well, sir!” says the boy, smiling pleasantly, his handshake firm.

“I’ve been meaning to check on my horse,” says Lucas “might you show me where to find him?” he asks.

“Sure thing!” says James, motioning toward the back of the house. 

Lucas steps around the large dining room table, the same one that will still be in the room nearly 100 years later when Magpie and her mom move into the house. They walk through to the kitchen where Charlotte is busy baking pies and cleaning pots and pans. She smiles at them as they walk through. Lucas notes with amazement that the antique stove is also the same one he saw at Magpie’s house. He shudders at the impossibility of it all and follows James out the back door.

“We don’t have stables at our house, but we keep our horses next door at the Starling’s farm, so we brought your horse there too. He’s something else ain’t he?!” says James as they step between the fence rails separating the Carnifex’s house from the one next door. At the sound of his last name, Starling, Lucas freezes in his tracks.

“What did you say?” he asks.

“I said he’s somethin’ else ain’t he? Your horse I mean! Never seen anything like it!” repeats James.

“No, I mean after that, did you say the Starling farm?” asks Lucas.

“Oh yeah, they live next door. Nice folks. Always there to help if you need it. I’m sure you’ll meet them sometime. The youngest boy, Gordon, he’s always out and about exploring. We go to school together, but he misses a lot of days, goes out poking ‘round the fields and woods like he’s discovered a new continent or sumthin’,” says James, laughing.

Gordon. Gordon Starling. Lucas remembers the name from his Grandma Gemma’s ancient family photo album. She’d point out the different people in the photos, remembering most of their names, even the ones she hadn’t met. She used to refer to him as Grandpa Gordon, which means he is Lucas’ Great-Great-Grandfather!

“You comin’?” shouts James, now several paces ahead of Lucas. Reeling, Lucas nods, and follows him into the field behind the house he was living in with his grandmother only a few months before.

Thank you so much for listening.  Join me next week for Wingspan chapter 20, Moonlight, where Magpie and Lucas live parallel lives across time and space. 

The Skylark Bell is brought to you by Phaeton Starling Publishing and features original music by Cannelle. If you are enjoying this story, please consider leaving a rating on Spotify or a review on Apple Podcasts, this gives the show more visibility so others can find and enjoy it as well. You can also support my work through a donation via your podcast provider or by subscribing to my Patreon where you get early access to episodes and so much more! Check the show notes for links.

Before I go, I’d like to share this reel for a podcast I quite enjoy called Horror Roulette. Em and Nick are fantastic hosts who discuss paranormal events and true crime. If you enjoy the supernatural atmosphere of The Skylark Bell you’ll want to check them out.

Thank you.

In today’s episode we read Chapter 18 – The Vanishings - in which Manon elaborates on past instances of people disappearing from Carnifex House

Brought to you by: Phaeton Starling Publishing and Things with Wings Productions.

The Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.com

The Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbell

Author/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.com

Join Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveri

Melissa on Instagram: @the.mop.pod

Melissa on Twitter: @melissaoliveri

All music by Cannelle - http://www.cannellemusic.com

Cannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.music

The Haunted UK Podcast - https://www.instagram.com/hauntedukpodcast

FULL TRANSCRIPT:

Things with Wings Productions presents: Episode 18 of The Skylark Bell, Wingspan. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.  

In our previous episode, Lucas had a strange dream which involved he and Magpie getting married by a mysterious woman. He then woke up in a room at Magpie’s old farmhouse in Pocket with none other than Charlotte and Edward Carnifex caring for him.

In today’s episode we read Chapter 18 – The Vanishings - in which Manon elaborates on past instances of people disappearing from Carnifex House

Now, it’s time to settle in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink… and let’s get started.

“The Vanishings, that’s what the villagers call them,” says Manon, a sad look in her eye.

“Many years before Julien’s friend vanished, a little girl also disappeared. She and her older brother were playing hide and seek outside, and only the boy returned home…” she lets the words hang in the air for a moment. “When his family asked him where his sister was, he said he didn’t know. That he hid behind a rock at the edge of the forest while his sister was counting. After a few minutes he saw his sister follow a red deer into the woods. He called out to her, but she didn’t listen, it was like she was sleepwalking. He said that he heard a woman singing, but it didn’t sound human, and then he felt a little dizzy and laid down. When he woke up it was getting dark, so he hurried home.” Manon leans back in her chair and takes a long slow sip of coffee.

Magpie leans back in her chair, soaking in this new information about Carnifex House. If someone had told her that she was moving to a place where multiple mysterious disappearances had occurred, she never would have believed them. What are the odds, after what she went through at Meadow Lane, that she would move to yet another place with inexplicable occurrences? And now Lucas is gone. Missing. Vanished.

“So, how many people have disappeared like this?” asks Magpie, trying to put the pieces together, still holding out hope that Lucas will walk through the door at any moment. Alfred had already reached out to tell them that no one in town had seen or heard from Lucas and Cormorant.

“The villagers don’t much like to discuss these things, I’ve only heard a few stories over the years, without much detail. But every time there is this strange singing or music involved. People seem to wander into the forest that grows between Carnifex House and Goldcrest Manor. That forest belongs to Carnifex House as well, but no one ever ventures there.”

Magpie furrows her brow, she hasn’t paid much attention to the forest, mostly viewing it as an obstacle between their farm and the main road winding down the cliffside toward town. A thought begins to wind its way into Magpie’s mind. 

“What is it Magpie,” asks Manon, seeing the shift in her facial expression.

“Lucas told me he was going to ride down to the beach then follow the coast to the main road and come back up that way. If he lost track of time and was running late, maybe he decided to cut through the forest to get back here…” Magpie lets the thought hang in the air.

Manon shakes her head. “There aren’t any clear paths through the forest, I can’t imagine he would attempt something like that,” she says.

“But we’ve checked the fields, the beach, the town with no sign of him. No one has looked in the forest. What if he’s there? What if he’s hurt? Or trapped?” pushes Magpie, fighting the urge to put on her shoes and go herself.

“It would be very difficult to find someone in the forest, as I said, there are no clear walking paths, and the visibility is very bad,” she says, holding strong.

Magpie feels her frustration mounting. She would do everything possible, search every inch of the entire Isle of Skye, to find Lucas. “Could we at least gather people to check the perimeter of the forest? Maybe call his name? Something? Anything?!” she says, desperation in her voice.

The sound of the front door startles them both. Magpie whips her head around, her heart soaring at the thought that Lucas has come home. She feels her hopes plummet as Alfred walks through the dining room to the kitchen.

“Alfred, Magpie thinks there is a chance Lucas may have gone into the forest,” says Manon, her even gaze on Alfred’s face as he pulls a stool up to the table.

“Ah,” says Alfred, letting the single syllable swirl around the room, his eyes never leaving Manon’s face.

“What aren’t you telling me? Why aren’t we running out right now to try and find him?!” Magpie is doing everything in her power to keep from shouting.

Manon turns back to Magpie. “The people of Pòcaid will not go in or near the forest,” she says simply. “They say that land belongs to Dealan-dè, the powerful druid woman, and that those who venture into the woods never venture out. The boy’s mother wouldn’t even venture in there to look for her son. Beware the Carnifex, they say, those who go in never come out.”

“Is that why the people in town were so wary of us when we first came here and told them we were moving into Carnifex House?” asks Magpie, finally putting the pieces together, “they think Carnifex house is cursed somehow?”

Manon nods her head, “They were like that with us when we first arrived as well. Over time they got to know us, and we grew to have a civil, if not warm, relationship with the people of Pòcaid. But you must understand, there are the people of Pòcaid, and there are the people from Carnifex House. We are not one of them, and they are not one of us,” she says, firmly.

“Why didn’t any of this come up before? Why didn’t you tell us? Maybe if he had known he wouldn’t have gone into the woods!” says Magpie, unable to hold back the tears that are now winding their way down her cheeks.

“We did not think there was any truth to the stories. Even when Julien’s friend disappeared, we concluded that perhaps he went to the beach and got washed away with the tide. We never believed the stories, we thought they were just that, fables, like one reads to children at bed time,” says Alfred, laying his hand on top of Magpie’s as Manon hands her a tissue.

Magpie wipes her eyes, “I’m sorry, I’m not upset with you. I just can’t believe this is happening. I feel so… so… helpless!” she says.

“I will go the neighbour’s house and borrow Rose, remember Rose the horse? Then I will walk along the main road where it meets the woods and look for any sign of Lucas or Cormorant, any sign that anyone has entered the woods in the last day or so. A horse of Cormorant’s size would leave hoofprints at best and broken twigs at worst,” says Alfred encouragingly.

“Thank you,” whispers Magpie, unable to muster up enough energy to speak any more loudly.

Alfred nods at her and gets up from the stool. “Be careful,” says Manon, standing to give him a warm hug. He nods at her as well and turns to leave. 

Magpie jolts at the sound of the front door closing.  “Should I call my mom?” she asks, unsure of what to do next. Her heart sinks at her next thought. “What about Grandma Gemma, how am I going to tell her, Lucas is all she has!” At this, Magpie lets the tears flow freely. How could everything go so very, very wrong?

“Why don’t you and I put on our boots and walk along the tree line on this side of the forest, it will do us good to get some fresh air, and this way we will see if there are any signs of Lucas or Cormorant on this side of the woods, oui?” asks Manon. Magpie catches her breath and wipes the tears from her face with the back of her hand. She nods and stands up on shaky legs. “It will be alright, Magpie, no matter what, everything will find its way in time,” she says, taking Magpie’s hand. Magpie looks at her quizzically. “What is it, did I say something wrong?” she asks.

“No, not it all, it’s just that… an old friend once said those exact same words to me. Everything finds its way in time,” answers Magpie.

“Then your friend was very wise,” says Manon, with a gentle smile, “Come, let’s get going while we still have several hours of daylight.”

They gather their things and head out the back door, walk past the paddock and across the fields to the edge of the woods. Magpie sees a huge rock where two of the fields intersect.

“This is the rock that the boy was hiding behind when he saw his sister wander into the woods,” says Manon, nodding toward it. “The rock is a marker, so the landowners know where their land ends and the neighbouring farm’s land begins,” she adds. “There are rumours that it was used as part of druid rituals centuries ago, but of course no one knows whether there is any truth to that.”

Magpie walks up to the rock, feeling the rough, mossy surface with her hands as she circles behind it before crouching down, imagining that she is the little boy playing hide and seek. She feels the familiar tingle of a vision coming on, and sure enough out of nowhere a small boy appears next to her, crouching low to the ground, his eyes fixed on something near the line of trees ahead. Magpie follows his gaze and sees a small girl with a simple brown dress and leather lace-up boots, her hair tangled by the wind, walking toward the forest. As she steps beyond the first line of trees the boy stands up and takes a step out from behind the rock. 

“Shelta!” he calls, his small voice quickly getting carried away by the wind, “Shelta! I’m over here!” he shouts, waving his arms wildly in the air. Magpie watches as the girl disappears into the darkness beyond the tree line, then she turns her attention to the boy, he is looking around like he is trying to find the source of a sound. Suddenly his knees go weak, and he sinks to the ground, then his eyes get heavy. The boy in her vision fades away just as he is going to sleep.

“Magpie, is everything all right?” asks Manon, peeking around the rock at Magpie. 

“I think we should start over there, at the tree line,” says Magpie, pointing to the spot where the girl walked into the forest, never to be seen again.

Thank you so much for listening.  Join me next week for Wingspan chapter 19, One Step Forward – One Century Back, where Lucas comes to term with the fact that he has travelled back nearly a century to early 1920s Pocket.

The Skylark Bell is brought to you by Phaeton Starling Publishing and features original music by Cannelle. If you are enjoying this story, please consider leaving a rating or a review, they’re both greatly appreciated. You can also support my work by subscribing to Patreon where you get early access to episodes as well as MP3 downloads of the music, artwork, writing, behind the scenes videos, and more! Checks the show notes for links.

Before I go, I’d like to share this reel for a podcast I quite enjoy called Haunted UK that covers a variety of Unexplained and Paranormal Events. If you enjoy the supernatural atmosphere of The Skylark Bell you’ll want to check them out.

Thank you

In today’s episode we read Chapter 17 – Le Corbeau - in which Lucas has a strange dream, and wakes up to an even stranger reality.

Brought to you by: Phaeton Starling Publishing and Things with Wings Productions.

The Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.com

The Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbell

Author/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.com

Join Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveri

Melissa on Instagram: @the.mop.pod

Melissa on Twitter: @melissaoliveri

All music by Cannelle - http://www.cannellemusic.com

Cannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.music

Haunted Housewives (podcast): https://www.instagram.com/haunted.housewives.podcast

FULL TRANSCRIPT:

Things with Wings Productions presents: Episode 17 of The Skylark Bell, Wingspan. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.  

In our previous episode, Magpie, worried about Lucas and Cormorant, enlisted help from Manon, who informed her this wasn’t the first time someone had inexplicable vanished from Carnifex House.

In today’s episode we read Chapter 17 – Le Corbeau - in which Lucas has a strange dream, and wakes up to even stranger circumstances.

Now, it’s time to settle in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink… and let’s get started.

Lucas blinks. Magpie is standing in front of him, smiling. She is dressed in a beautiful white lace wedding gown, her fiery red hair held up in a fancy twist using pins adorned with blue flowers. Lucas turns to take in his surroundings, they are standing on the small patio behind Carnifex House. He sees rows of empty white chairs, each adorned with a large blue satin bow. This must be his wedding day! But why are all the chairs empty? Where is everyone? Lucas sees blurry figures in the distance, perhaps Manon and Alfred? And is that Mrs. Phaeton next to them? For some reason everyone but Magpie is a blur on the outskirts of his field of vision. Suddenly he notices the smell of burning sage all around. He turns to look but can’t find the source of the smell. 

He senses movement next to his arm and turns to see a woman standing on a small riser in front of he and Magpie. Lucas feels relieved, she must be officiating the wedding. Lucas smiles at her and looks back at Magpie, whose eyes are still fixed on him, dreamily. Lucas can feel himself getting lost in that gaze when suddenly, he hears a sound above their heads. 

He looks up, and realizes they are standing under an arch made of branches, twigs, and vines. The arch is painted silver and is wrapped in cobalt blue velvet ribbon through which small wildflowers are threaded. Hanging from the tallest point of the arch is a row of silver bells, each engraved with a spiral of birds flying around the outside. Lucas gasps. He and Magpie are standing under a collection of replicas of the Skylark Bell. Lucas begins to feel uneasy. Something about his surroundings just isn’t right. 

The bells start blowing gently in the breeze, their delicate tinkling filling the air and wrapping around Lucas until he feels like he’s suffocating. He looks back at Magpie, but she is still standing in the same position, with the same smile on her face, as if frozen in time. Lucas’ brow furrows. “Magpie?” he says, waving a hand in front of her face. Magpie’s unseeing eyes don’t even flinch, and the pasted-on smile remains fixed on her immobile face.

Feeling a mounting sense of panic, Lucas looks to the woman standing in front of them. “Marry us, please!” he says to her. She looks at him, silent, her mouth forming into a twisted smile. 

On the wind, Lucas can hear a voice asking, “What is your name?” He looks around but doesn’t see anyone other than the blurry figures in the distance. 

“Marry us! Marry us!” he says to the woman, desperation creeping into this voice. On the wind he can hear the voice echo, “Marry us! Marry us! Marry us…!” Lucas looks around trying to find the source of the voice, but there is no one nearby except Magpie and this strange woman, and both are completely silent.

Again, he hears the voice on the wind, “What is your name?” Lucas looks around wildly, trying to find the source of the sound.

Out of nowhere, a large crow lands on the ground nearby. Lucas turns quickly, startled at the sudden movement. The crow tilts its head to one side, fixing Lucas with a single beady eye. Lucas stares back, horrified. The crow weaves its head from side to side, almost like it is mocking him. The entire episode is so bizarre Lucas has half a mind to turn and run… but he can’t leave Magpie. 

Lucas turns back to the woman, who is now focused on the crow. It’s like they are communicating, somehow. He looks back and forth from the woman to the crow, trying to decipher the unspoken dialogue between the two. Suddenly, the woman turns her attention back to Lucas, her icy gaze fixated on him. There’s something about the way she is looking at him. “You know me…” the thought enters his mind as if placed there by someone else against his will. There is something familiar about the woman, other than the fact that she and Magpie look similar.

Lucas shakes his head, breaking the spell. All that matters to him is Magpie. He feels an inexplicable urgency to get their wedding underway, and looks back at the woman imploringly, “Marry us! Please, just Marry us!” he says. 

“Marry us! Marry us! Marry us…” echoes the wind. 

Lucas looks up at the sky. A cloud is slowly covering the sun, casting a gray light over the patio and the field beyond.

“Magpie!” he says, clapping his hands near her face, “Magpie, wake up! It’s our wedding day, this woman is going to marry us!”

“Marius, Marius, Marius…” the words echo on the wind.

“Magpie, please, I love you!” he says desperately, leaning in close.

At this, the crow caws loudly, causing Lucas to turn around. “Corbeau!” he says, pointing at the large bird, its black feathers glistening in the sun. “Corbeau!” he repeats, remembering the word Manon taught him as they were walking through the fields. “Corbeau!” he says once more, in an accusatory tone, wielding the word like a weapon against the intruder. The bird spreads its wings and lifts off into the sky.

“Corbeau, Corbeau, Corbeau…” echoes the wind.

Lucas turns back to the woman. Her smile has vanished. Instead, she is staring at Lucas, her eyes somehow even colder than before. Slowly, the woman turns her head to look at Magpie. Lucas feels a shudder run through his entire body as he hears a strange song carried on the wind. The tune is hauntingly familiar, It crescendos with every passing second, to the point where Lucas covers his ears with his hands. He can feel the sound swirl around him, squeezing the air out of his body. He falls to the ground curled up in a tight ball. Just at the point where he feels like his mind can’t take anymore, everything goes quiet and fades to black.

Lucas catches his breath for a moment, then slowly opens his eyes. He is in a room that feels vaguely familiar, sunlight filtering through the sheer white curtains that are billowing in a warm breeze. 

“Ah there he is, you gave us quite a scare, my friend!” says a deep, but friendly voice nearby.  Lucas turns and tries to focus his eyes on the man, but his vision is still blurry. “My name is Edward, and this is my wife, Charlotte.” He pauses briefly to give Lucas a moment to assimilate the information.

Lucas takes a breath as his vision comes into focus. A broad-shouldered, blonde-haired man is sitting in a small wooden chair next to the bed. Behind him stands a woman with dark hair and a pleasant, gentle face. 

The woman leans forward, laying a soft hand on Lucas’ shoulder before speaking words that send a jolt through Lucas’ entire body. “It seems you were having a troubling dream, you did quite a bit of speaking in your sleep, Mr. Corbeau …or shall we call you Marius?”

Thank you so much for listening.  Join me next week for Wingspan chapter 18, The Vanishings, where Manon elaborates on past instances of people disappearing from Carnifex House.

The Skylark Bell is brought to you by Phaeton Starling Publishing and features original music by Cannelle. If you are enjoying this story, please consider leaving a rating or a review they’re both greatly appreciated. You can also support my work via a donation through your podcast platform, or by subscribing to Patreon where you get early access to episodes and so much more! Just check the show notes for all necessary links.

Before I go, I’d like to share this reel for a podcast I quite enjoy called Haunted Housewives. Carli and Tara are fantastic hosts who discuss Paranormal Events. If you enjoy the supernatural atmosphere of The Skylark Bell you’ll want to check them out.

Thank you

**DISCLAIMER - This episode contains mention of smoking and death and may not be appropriate for younger children**

In today’s special episode we will hear the story of The Other Rachel. This story was inspired by my grandmother, who turned 106 years old earlier this week. I don’t want to give too much away, but rest assured that there is an unusual, somewhat spooky, and definitely mysterious element to the story.

Brought to you by: Phaeton Starling Publishing and Things with Wings Productions.

The Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.com

The Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbell

Author/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.com

Join Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveri

Melissa on Instagram: @the.mop.pod

Melissa on Twitter: @melissaoliveri

All music by Cannelle - http://www.cannellemusic.com

Cannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.music

FULL TRANSCRIPT:

Things with Wings productions presents – A Special episode of The Skylark Bell. I’m your host, Melissa Oliveri.

In today’s special episode we will hear the story of The Other Rachel. This story was inspired by my grandmother, who turned 106 years old earlier this week. I don’t want to give too much away, but rest assured that there is an unusual, somewhat spooky, and definitely mysterious element to the story.

Now, it’s time to grab a blanket and a warm drink, we’re getting started.

The Other Rachel

It will seem hard to believe, but the first time I saw her I didn’t recognize her. In my defense, I hadn’t seen her in nearly 50 years. People seem to think fifty years is a long time. Half a century. I am 105 years old now, my life has surpassed the length of an entire century. The world would be unrecognizable to her, if she could see it, but I have lived through the changes gradually, they aren’t as staggering as they seem when comparing today to my starting point of 1916.

But let me start at the beginning. Not the beginning of my life, that would take far too long, but rather the beginning of the unbelievable, inexplicable, most unlikely three decades of my life. 

I had moved into a small ground floor apartment the previous week. The apartment was located inside a converted school, and the complex only rented out to people of retirement age. It felt like I had come full circle when I toured it; looking out the living room window I could see the second-story apartment across the street where I had raised my family, decades ago. 

The first time I saw her she was on the balcony. I was sitting in my rocking chair by the window enjoying some quiet time before bed. I noticed the small orange light of her cigarette glowing as she smoked. I could see her silhouette outlined by the light of the window behind her. Something about her felt familiar, but I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. The reality was far too unimaginable at this point. She finished her cigarette then lingered a moment, like she was relishing her time outside before going back through the door to whatever waited for her on the other side.

Nearly a month went by before I saw her again. This time it was daytime, and she was sitting on the steps that lead from the second floor to the street, listening to what sounded like a baseball game on the radio. She looked like she was talking to someone, but there was no one else there that I could see. I pushed my curtains aside and leaned closer to the window to get a better look. To my great embarrassment she lifted her head and met my gaze. I quickly stepped back and pulled the curtains closed. It was only a moment before I heard a soft knock on the window. I reluctantly pulled the curtains back again and slid the window open. “Hello,” she said, taking a puff of her cigarette, “my name is Rachel. My family and I moved into the apartment across the street last month.”

I stared at her, speechless, recognition washing over me like one of those rainstorms that comes out of nowhere, leaving you no option but to get soaked. I thought maybe I’d died, and my life is flashing before my eyes. Or maybe I was asleep and dreaming.  Or maybe... maybe...

“Lovely to meet you,” I managed to stammer, “I only recently moved in as well.”

“I hope your children helped get you settled in,” she said, a smile curving her mouth as she stomped her cigarette out on the sidewalk with an old-fashioned kitten-heeled shoe. 

I took a moment to look over her short-sleeved floral dress with buttons down the front. It was the height of mid-1940s fashion. Oh, how I had loved that dress. I remember sewing the buttons back on after a hard tug by one of the children made them pop off. “Yes, they are wonderful children. I’m very proud of them,” I replied, my heart pounding.

“That’s great to hear,” she said, looking back up at me. 

“Do you have children?” I asked her, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, I have two boys and another little one on the way,” she replied, placing a hand on her abdomen. Of course! It was so long ago; I hadn’t thought about it in years. Everything had happened so fast; my father-in-law passing away, moving in with my mother-in-law, our two children in tow and another on the way. “Well, I should be getting back, it’s lovely to meet you Mrs...” her words snapped me out of my memories. 

“Mrs.... Rachel, just call me Rachel,” I told her, hesitating only for a moment.

“Rachel it is, a lovely name.” She winked as she said it, then turned to walk back across the street. I watched her go up the steps, focusing on her shoes. I remembered those shoes, too; my sister Carmen had bought them for me for Christmas in 1945. It was a bittersweet Christmas that year as some celebrated with loved ones who had returned from the war, and others grieved those who had not. I watched as the apartment door closed behind The Other Rachel, then stayed in my chair for a long time, reminiscing about Christmases gone by in that second-story apartment. Back then I would wait until the children had gone to bed on Christmas eve, then pull out the tree, the decorations, wrap the gifts, and do the cooking and baking. I’d work into the wee hours of the morning to get everything ready, and they would wake on Christmas morning believing in magic.

I watched The Other Rachel, about a month later, walking home from the tramway stop down the street, carrying her bag on her arm. She must be coming home from her shift at Birk’s, I thought. I had spent decades working in the iconic Birk’s Jewelry store alongside my sister Marselle, earning $1/hour for my troubles. I would take the streetcar from Des Erables street around the corner from my apartment and get dropped off just steps away from the shop’s location in Old Quebec. The Other Rachel turned to look toward my window as she walked by, and I waved. She smiled and sauntered over. “Hello dear, how was your day?” I asked her.

“It was lovely, my friend Pierre stopped by the store to buy his mother a necklace. He told stories and we laughed and laughed until the manager gave me a stern look... and then we laughed some more,” she giggled. 

I smiled fondly. Pierre had been a young boy when I first met him. Years ago, he and his family would come to the café where I was a waitress, and I would sneak him ice cream when his parents weren’t looking. He eventually moved to California and became a Hollywood actor, but he never forgot his roots. He would always make a point to stop by and say hello to me when he would come back to Quebec City to visit his family.

Another month went by, and I notice a pattern; The Other Rachel’s appearances seemed to coincide with the full moon. We continued our monthly visits over the course of many years, my small apartment window always between us. I was there to celebrate with her when her, my, our, eldest son got married, and I was able to celebrate the birth of my next 3 children once again. It was a strange, amazing, beautiful thing and I didn’t stop for a moment to question how or why. On the days between our visits, I would see the current residents of the apartment, the ones in modern clothes with their modern strollers, modern cars, and modern haircuts, going about their lives. I watched life outside my window like a carrousel, waiting for my favourite horse to pass by.

“I must tell you this story,” she had said to me one day, barely able to keep a straight face. I encouraged her with a nod, wondering which memory her tale would conjure. “Last night I got home late from work, we had a very special client who stayed for some time after we closed the store. I was a little frazzled making dinner and set the oven to a much hotter temperature than I meant to. By the time I peeled, cooked, and mashed the potatoes and trimmed and cooked the beans, I opened the oven to find the roast black and burnt! It was far too late to prepare a new dinner. The meat was tough and dry, and as I sliced it, I couldn’t help but think I’d never hear the end of it from my mother-in-law...” here she pauses, a mischievous gleam in her eye. She had told me a few stories about life with her mother-in-law. Never delving too deeply into just how challenging the situation was, but I remembered it well. Isabella and I never did get along. She would turn off the radio in the middle of the baseball game, or put away photos and trinkets I would display on dressers and bookcases. I would find the trinkets in drawers and put them back out, and she would hide them again, and the cycle would repeat until finally the trinkets disappeared permanently, presumably thrown away. “I held my breath as I served everyone dinner, and sure enough she had something to say...” The Other Rachel draws out the end of her story for suspense. I wait patiently, already knowing what she is about to say. “...and she told me it was the BEST roast she’d EVER had!” At this The Other Rachel roars with laughter. It was quite unlike her to step out of her more rigid, stoic stance. I sat in my rocking chair watching her, surprised, until finally I felt my shoulders shaking back and forth and I joined her in what the French call un fou rire. I was still chuckling about the whole thing when I went to bed and dreamed of all the lost trinkets that had been made to disappear by my mother-in-law over the years. 

A few years later, The Other Rachel asked if any of my children had served in the armed forces. I told her my eldest son and his boys were part of the military, which was not exactly an answer to her question, but also not a lie. People rarely spoke about World War II once it was over, but for some reason it was on The Other Rachel’s mind that day. She told me a story about her brother-in-law, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the mention of his name, not out of spite but out of an almost comical sense of exasperation. My husband had been unable to fight in the war, but his three brothers did, and the one The Other Rachel was referring to had a tendency to go AWOL.

“So here we are, riding the train from Montreal, and Donn tells me to go sit with him. At first, I didn’t understand why, then it dawned on me that appearing to be part of a couple would help him avoid suspicion. My husband sat a few rows back and I sat in silence next to my brother-in-law, hoping no one would ask for our papers. In all those years he never did get caught!” She sighs the sigh of a mother with a hopelessly naughty son. Perhaps this brother-in-law explains some of the mother-in-law’s moodiness, I thought with a quiet giggle.

“My mother-in-law passed away yesterday,” she added, as if reading my mind. I sat silently for a moment, waiting to see if she would say more, but that was that. I offered her my condolences, which she accepted with a nod before slowly walking back up the steps to her apartment. 

My mother-in-law had passed away in the late 1950’s. I still remember the dress I wore to her funeral, and the cold wind at Mount Hermon Cemetery in Sillery, standing at the family grave nestled between two tall Scotch pines planted in honour of their Scottish heritage. I sat for a while thinking about Isabella and the constant state of conflict we had lived in for the better part of 13 years. My husband had been planted squarely in the middle of that small-scale war. I would ask him to pass along my message to her and she would do the same, and he would nod and smile at each of us and keep all the information to himself, a sort of makeshift peacekeeper. In hindsight, perhaps the loss of her husband, that terrible grief settled deep in her soul, had turned here into such a difficult person. Perhaps before she had been a brighter, lighter, happier person. Perhaps she felt like her life was in a tailspin, like the life she had known was disintegrating before her eyes, like she had completely lost control. Perhaps I simply didn’t have enough life experience to empathize back then...

“Those suitcases better be packed by the time I get back!” 

The sound of her voice made me instantly perk up. I had been in a slump for a few of weeks, having broken my leg in a fall while walking to the market on Cartier Street. I painstakingly made my way to the window and pushed the curtains aside to see her weary but smiling face on the other side. I scanned my memory for a trip we may have made around this period in time, but my brain was a little foggy from the pain medication. “Where are you off to?” I finally asked, giving up on my quest.

“We’ve promised the kids a trip to the World Fair in Montreal,” She replied, a mixture of excitement and exasperation in her voice. Of course, Expo ’67! How could I forget?! It was such a magical trip; the cutting-edge technology and design, the crowds milling about with a look of amazement on every face, the sights and sounds, the food... We would talk about that trip for years to come. The unusual structures like the Terre Des Hommes and Habitat 67 that were part of the pavilions at the exhibit still stood to this day, iconic pieces of Montreal architecture.

“How exciting!” I breathed, envious of the adventure that awaited her, an adventure that was so distant in my past.

“It will be if I can get everyone packed up and out the door! On that note, I need to go pick up my pay cheque. It’s lovely seeing you,” she waved before rushing off down the street.

I didn’t see her for a few of months after that. I spent some time with my sisters, and celebrated Easter with my family. When summer came, we drove to the Island of Orleans to buy fresh-picked strawberries, the best berries in the world, no contest! I made jam and marmalade for everyone; my children, my sisters, the Sgobbas who lived down the street, Mme Méo who lived around the corner and had been a friend to me for years, and Mrs. Maher who lived upstairs. The warmer months passed by so quickly, it wasn’t until the cooler weather returned that I realized how much time had gone by since I’d last seen The Other Rachel.

“Gordie, don’t you eat the tops off those mille feuilles! Linda, keep an eye on him!” I heard her shout from outside my window one day. I laughed and laughed. My son, Gordon, had a habit of stealing the iced tops off the flaky custard pastries when no one was looking. 

“Good afternoon, Rachel,” I said, joining her by the window.

“That boy, he’s a handful!” she laughed, her love for him clearly present in her voice. “Say, I was wondering, have you ever travelled to Europe?” she asked. In an instant I knew precisely why she was asking. 

“Yes, I’ve travelled to Spain,” I told her. “Why do you ask?” I added, trying to keep our incredible situation to myself.

“My sister and I are travelling to Spain and Portugal next month!” she answered excitedly. I smiled at her attempt to keep her giddiness in check. She was usually so serious, and no-nonsense, I relished these almost childlike moments of wonder in her, they were far too few and far between.

“You will have a wonderful trip. The food, scenery, and people are all lovely,” I told her, drifting off into memories of that very trip with my sister Marselle. We had eaten late at night, enjoyed the most amazing coffee on the hotel balcony first thing in the morning, watched the sun rise from the beach... 

“Well, I should be going before Gordie gets into some other kind of trouble,” she said, still grinning from ear to ear. I waved goodbye as she scurried home to check on her mille-feuilles. I made a point to walk down to Paolo’s Patisserie on Rue Cartier that evening to pick up a mille-feuille for myself, and that night I went to bed with visions of flamenco dancers and Portuguese sunsets in my head. Just before falling asleep, I made a mental note to call my sister Marselle the next morning to check in, we hadn’t spoken in a few days.

I didn’t see The Other Rachel the following month. I knew she was on her trip, so I didn’t think much of it, but I didn’t see her again for several months after that either, and began to worry until I remembered what happened at the end of that trip. A vicious bout of sciatica had put me in a wheelchair, a condition that took nearly eight months to resolve.

When I finally saw her again it was autumn. I heaved a sigh, relieved the spell had not been broken after all. She walked more gingerly, but still held her head high, and looked impeccable in her long coat and a pair of leather gloves. “Hello Rachel,” I said through the open window. She jumped a little, as if I had startled her. She turned toward me, a look of distraction on her face.

“Oh hello,” she said, regaining her composure. 

“Is everything alright?” I asked her, scanning my memory for the events which transpired fifty years prior that may be cause for her concern. Before I could put my finger on it, she filled me in.

“Have you been listening to the radio?” she asked, “they’re saying the army is coming. There will be curfew. They’re saying a politician has been kidnapped!” Of course. The October Crisis. So much time had gone by I had put it behind me, but it was a frightening spell in Quebec History when some extremists took things too far. My heart sank as I thought of the politician who would later be found dead. I quickly reminded myself to keep quiet about it. 

“Ah yes, very concerning indeed. I’m sure you and your family will be safe,” I smiled at her reassuringly. She nodded, still a little unsure, and bid me farewell as she carefully crossed the street, her gait noticeably affected by the sciatica. I watched her with a sinking heart, knowing there was something far more terrible coming her way than the October Crisis.

A few months later she came to my window, her face ashen and streaked with makeup where tears had run down her face. My stomach clenched. I thought I was prepared. I knew it was coming. I had thought of nearly nothing else the past three months, yet I couldn’t help but feel my heart break all over again. As much as I tried to forget, I remembered this day as if it were yesterday. This horrible, tragic, traumatic day. 

“Oh Rachel, I don’t know what I’m going to do...” she had whispered through my window. 

“Listen to me very carefully. It may not seem like it today, but it’s going to be okay. You will be okay, and your children will be okay. Life will be okay. Trust me.” 

She had looked at me then, her gaze even with mine as if, for a moment, she knew exactly who I was. I stayed perfectly still, unsure of what would happen next. She nodded quietly and turned her gaze to the ground. Eventually she took a deep breath and looked up to the sky before whispering “My husband died today.”

“I remember,” I whispered, too quietly for her to hear. Fifty years I had lived on without him. I wanted to hold her then, to comfort her, but we had only ever talked through the window, and I was afraid to break the spell. After a while she squared her shoulders and lifted her head. She bid me goodnight and walked proudly back to her apartment. I remember the moment, half a century ago, when I decided there wasn’t time for feelings and pity, that I would swallow it all down and continue moving forward and raising my family. I stared out the window well into the night, remembering the pain, the tears, the fear filling up the walls of the second-story apartment across the street. As I watched I saw a hazy figure take shape on the balcony. I recognized him instantly, looking dapper in his limo driver uniform with a cap on his head, leaning on the railing smoking a cigarette. He blew out a plume of smoke and his silhouette dissipated along with it. “Goodbye Don,” I whispered for the first time in 50 years. 

I spent the next several months letting her lead the conversation. Some days she would focus on the children; another getting married, another grandchild being born... other days she would be very quiet, the grief she had swallowed down finally rising to the surface. Over time our conversations returned to what they had been: She sharing current events while I reminisced. 

 “My dearest Rachel,” she said one day, a look of nostalgia on her face, “I’m moving.” The announcement hit me like a kick in the gut. “Our landlord has decided to sell the building, and the new owner is requiring us to leave so he can make renovations,” she continued. “I’ve found a place for us down on Ste Foy Road.”

My heart sank. We had been meeting almost monthly for nearly thirty years. It never occurred to me that our conversations would end at some point. I hadn’t calculated which year it was, exactly, that I had been forced to leave the small apartment that members of our family had occupied for nearly seventy years. I remembered my son had tried to purchase the building, but the bank had denied his loan application. The new apartment The Other Rachel was moving to cost nearly double the rent and I remembered the stress and financial worry of those subsequent years. I shook my head back to the present moment. I wasn’t prepared to say goodbye, not only to her, but to the life I had lived in that second-story apartment across the street. I swallowed the lump in my throat as tears sprung up in my eyes. “I wish you the very best, Rachel,” I whispered to her.

“I’m only moving a few blocks away. I will come back to visit,” she said, clearly emotional about the home she had known nearly three decades, and perhaps a little sad about leaving me, the old woman in the window. Little did she know...

I nodded quietly and watched as she walked across the street for the last time, the sound of her shoes echoing off the sidewalk. “Goodbye Rachel,” I whispered.

I never saw her again. Every full moon I stayed up late into the night, looking for that silhouette and the small orange fire of a cigarette, but the balcony remained silent and empty. A few weeks ago, a For Sale sign appeared on the railing, quickly followed by a Sold sign. Then, last week a construction crew arrived and began filling a dumpster with pieces of wood and drywall as they gutted the interior of the apartment. Once they finished, the next crew came in to rebuild, then movers brought furniture and appliances, and finally a new family arrived: Two adults with a small child and another on the way.

To this day, I sit in the living room of my small apartment staring aimlessly out the window as yet another new family goes about their life, oblivious to my existence, or to the existence of those who came before them. I sit and remember my children when they were children, my husband, my mother-in-law, the burnt roast, Expo ’67, the flamenco dancers, long workdays at Birk’s, the magic of Christmas morning, my sisters - now long departed, and the few moments of quiet sitting on the balcony after the children had gone to bed... I sit and dream. I sit and reminisce. I sit and recall the life I lived in that second-story apartment, when I was The Other Rachel.

Thank you so much for listening.  I look forward sharing the next chapter of Wingspan next week so you can find out what Magpie and Lucas have been up to. Remember, Patreon subscribers get early access to all podcast episodes, and downloads of all my original music as Cannelle, plus illustrations, behind the scenes videos, and more. You can subscribe for as little as $1 per month to access all my content. Check the show notes for links to Patreon, my website, and social media accounts, I love interacting with my listeners. 

If you enjoyed this story, please consider leaving a review on Apple Podcasts, and/or a rating on Apple podcasts or Spotify. This helps my story gain visibility among the numerous podcasts out there, and it also makes me smile.

Lastly, I’d like to wish everyone who does, or can celebrate Mothers Day a lovely day. My own mother passed away when I was young, but since I became a mom over 13 years ago the day is no longer a sad one. That said, I know it can be a difficult day for many, and my heart goes out to  you.

Thank you, as always, for listening.

In today’s episode we read Chapter 16 – Le Nightfall - in which Magpie begins to worry after Lucas and Cormorant don’t return from their ride, and Manon provides some very unsettling information.

Brought to you by: Phaeton Starling Publishing and Things with Wings Productions.

The Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.com

The Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbell

Author/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.com

Join Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveri

Melissa on Instagram: @the.mop.pod

Melissa on Twitter: @melissaoliveri

All music by Cannelle - http://www.cannellemusic.com

Cannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.music

The Activity Continues (podcast): https://linkin.bio/theactivitycontinues

FULL TRANSCRIPT:

Things with Wings Productions presents: Episode 16 of The Skylark Bell, Wingspan. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.  

In our previous episode, Lucas and Cormorant step under a mysterious arch in the woods and inexplicably find themselves back in the town of Pocket.

In today’s episode we read Chapter 16 – Le Nightfall - in which Magpie begins to worry after Lucas and Cormorant don’t return from their ride, and Manon provides some very unsettling information.

Now, it’s time to settle in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink… and let’s get started.

“Perfect!” says Magpie, sneaking a small taste of pasta sauce off the end of the serving spoon. The sauce is gently simmering in a pot, the fragrant scent of basil and fresh tomatoes wafting through the kitchen. She grabs the pot of boiling pasta next to it and dumps it into a strainer, the hot steam shooting up from the sink and fogging up the window. She starts absentmindedly humming a little tune as she puts the garlic bread in the oven. 

“Okay, what’s next?” she says out loud, looking at the chaos surrounding her, “Ah yes, the frosting!” she exclaims, pointing a finger in the air! She resumes her humming, but it is quickly drowned out by the sound of the mixer beating the butter, sugar, cocoa powder, and espresso into a luxurious mocha frosting for the cupcakes she baked earlier.

The oven dings to indicate the garlic bread is ready just as Magpie is frosting the last cupcake. She quickly tosses some mixed greens from the garden with a homemade vinaigrette, then glances at the clock. Her brow furrows, she thought Lucas would be home by now. Hopefully he’s not too far out, she doesn’t want their dinner to get cold.

Magpie steps out onto the patio, squinting into the quickly darkening field, but she doesn’t see any sign of Lucas and Cormorant. Brushing off the small tinge of worry at the back of her mind she steps back inside to grab cutlery and napkins, then comes back out to set the table. Still no sign of Lucas. Magpie bites her lip. “Don’t be such a worry wart,” she whispers to herself. She decides to start cleaning up the kitchen. She starts by scrubbing the pots and pans, then wipes down the counter, puts the extra food away, straightens up the utensil drawer, cleans out the fridge… still no sign of Lucas.

Unable to ignore the mounting concern that is gnawing at her, Magpie decides to head outside. She sits on the patio, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, questions swirling in her mind. Where is Lucas? Did he get lost? Is he injured somewhere? Did he just lose track of time while exploring like when they were kids? 

A cold wind picks up and Magpie wraps the blanket around herself more tightly. She can’t tell if she is shivering from the cold or if her nerves are getting the best of her. Magpie decides to walk toward the pasture, maybe Lucas is getting Cormorant settled in for the night and just hasn’t come back to the house yet. She grabs a lantern from the patio and starts making her way across the grass toward the paddock. She’s just coming to the gate when something on the wind catches her attention. She leans in, listening closely. “What was that?” she whispers to herself. Magpie closes her eyes and focuses on the sound. It sounds like a woman’s voice, but ethereal, echoing and coming from every direction, singing a tune without words. Magpie can only catch intermittent pieces of it, but the tune sounds familiar. She digs hard through her memories but can’t quite put her finger on it. The singing fades away and Magpie is left alone with the wind and an empty paddock. Chilled, she decides to head back to the house and wait for Lucas inside.

Magpie makes a fire in the fireplace and settles onto the sofa with a book from the bookshelf. She piles a couple of blankets on her lap and tries her best to focus on the story, but her mind keeps wandering. Eventually she gives up on the book and just sits silently, staring out the window. 

A knock on the door startles her, Magpie didn’t realise she’d fallen asleep. She shakes her head and pushes the pile of blankets off her legs. Sitting up, she sees bright sunshine pouring into the windows. Disoriented, it takes Magpie a moment to realise it’s morning. “Lucas!” she thinks, suddenly remembering that he didn’t come home last night. The knock on the door, it must be Lucas, perhaps he lost his keys and had gotten mixed up in the dark on his way home. Magpie feels relief wash through her as she races to the door. “Lucas, I was so worried!” she says, swinging the door open with glee. Magpie’s heart sinks when she sees Manon standing on the front step.

“Good morning, Magpie. Is everything okay?” asks Manon, the bright smile falling from her face.

Magpie feels her stomach sink. “It’s Lucas, he went out for a ride with Cormorant yesterday afternoon, and he never came home,” she says. Manon gets a look on her face that Magpie can’t quite decipher. 

“May I come in?” asks Manon, “I think we need to talk.” 

Magpie places a cup of coffee and cupcake in front of Manon and joins her at the small table in the kitchen. “Are you not eating?” asks Manon, noting the empty placemat in front of Magpie.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much of an appetite,” replies Magpie, her stomach in knots. Manon gives her an understanding nod. When she first arrived, Manon called Alfred who immediately began putting together a search party. So far, they had found no sign of Lucas and Cormorant on the beach or in the fields surrounding Carnifex House. Alfred is now going to the village to check in with the business owners.

Manon heaves a deep sigh, “I was hoping I would never have to have this conversation,” she says, her face grim.”

Magpie feels her heart start beating a little faster. “What do you mean?” she asks.

Manon looks up at her, a sad look in her eye, “This isn’t the first time someone has gone missing from Carnifex House.” 

Magpie leans back in her chair, reeling. Lucas has gone missing. She hadn’t put those words together in her mind yet. He hadn’t come home for dinner, he took a wrong turn, maybe he was lost… but missing. Lucas was missing. The word put fear in her heart.

Manon hesitates, then looks Magpie squarely in the eye, “It last happened a few years after we moved here.” Magpie gasps, why hadn’t Manon told her? As if reading her mind, Manon continues, “Our son Julien was playing with one of his friends, a lively little boy with big blue eyes. I was watching them from the kitchen window while I was cooking, but then the phone rang, and I got distracted. Eventually when I looked back outside, I saw only Julien. I walked over to him to ask where his friend was, and he said his friend had gone into the woods.” Manon takes a small break, lost in what is clearly a painful memory. 

“Did they ever find him?” asks Magpie, already knowing the answer to her question.

Manon shakes her head. “His parents were devastated. The entire village helped them search for the boy, but he was never found. It was like he had never even existed. Not a trace of him anywhere,” she says, sadly. “His mother blamed the spirits of the druids who used to live on this land. She thought they had taken her son somehow. Some say she never fully recovered and spent the rest of her life calling out to Dealan-dè to return him.”

“Is there any truth to it? What would make her think that?” asks Magpie, suppressing a shudder.

“There have been so many stories about the druids and their magical spells handed down through generations… perhaps it was easier to blame them than to accept the fact that sometimes terrible things just happen,” answers Manon, a strange look on her face.

Magpie feels like Manon is holding back, “What aren’t you telling me?” she asks.

“That little boy may have been the last person to disappear mysteriously, but he was not the first…”

Thank you so much for listening.  Join me next week for a special episode featuring my original story The Other Rachel, inspired by my Grandmother who will be turning 106 years old in just a few days. This strange and mysterious story is filled with nostalgia, and I’m very much looking forward to sharing it with you. The following week we'll continue with Wingspan chapter 17, Le Corbeau, where Lucas has a strange dream, and wakes up to even stranger circumstances.

The Skylark Bell is brought to you by Phaeton Starling Publishing and features original music by Cannelle. If you are enjoying this story, please consider leaving a rating on Spotify or a review on Apple Podcasts, they help give the podcast visibility so others can find and enjoy the story. You can also support my work by subscribing to my Patreon where you get early access to episodes as well as MP3 downloads of the music, artwork, behind the scenes videos and more! Just check the show notes for links to Patreon, my website, and social media accounts. 

Before I go, I’d like to share this reel for a podcast I quite enjoy called The Activity Continues. Amy and Megan are fantastic hosts who discuss episodes of paranormal television show The Dead Files. If you enjoy the supernatural atmosphere of The Skylark Bell you’ll want to check them out.

Thank you, once again, for listening. I'm Melissa Oliver and this is The Skylark Bell podcast.

In today’s episode we read Chapter 15 – Gateway - in which Lucas and Cormorant take a turn that will change the course of their lives, and Magpie’s, forever.

Brought to you by: Phaeton Starling Publishing and Things with Wings Productions.

The Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.com

The Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbell

Author/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.com

Join Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveri

Melissa on Instagram: @the.mop.pod

Melissa on Twitter: @melissaoliveri

All music by Cannelle - http://www.cannellemusic.com

Cannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.music

FULL TRANSCRIPT:

Things with Wings Productions presents: Episode 15 of The Skylark Bell, Wingspan. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.  

In our previous episode, Lucas happened upon a small antique shop where he found an exact replica of the Skylark Bell.

In today’s episode we read Chapter 15 – Gateway - in which Lucas and Cormorant take a turn that will change the course of their lives, and Magpie’s, forever.

Now, it’s time to settle in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink… and let’s get started.

Cormorant’s hoof beats echo on the road. Lucas looks up at the ever-darkening sky, a small sense of worry starting to build in the pit of his stomach. How did he lose track of time like this? It was only early afternoon when he walked into the antique shop… at least he thought it was? Whatever the case, it is past dinnertime now and if he doesn’t hurry, he’s going to have to find his way home in the dark. They’ve reached the top of the cliff now, Goldcrest Manor rising regally to the left, steadfastly watching over the town below, and a thick wooded area stretching to the right. Lucas knows Carnifex House is directly on the other side of those woods, if he could cut through them, he might get back home before it is completely dark out. 

Suddenly, a red deer comes racing out of the woods just a few paces ahead of them. It stops in its tracks, and turns toward them, staring. Cormorant stands at attention, ears pointed straight ahead, every muscle at the ready should the situation warrant a quick getaway. “Chevreuil,” thinks Lucas, conjuring an image of Manon in his mind and smiling. The deer breathes out heavily, two clouds of condensed air forming at its nostrils, then pivots and runs back into the woods. Lucas and Cormorant take a few cautious steps forward and Lucas sees a faint path leading into the woods where the deer disappeared from view. “Well, I’m going to chalk this up to fate, if it’s good enough for the ‘chevreuil’ it’s good enough for me!” he says to the horse, pulling on the reins to guide Cormorant onto the path. Cormorant seems uneasy at first, but he and Lucas have formed a strong bond over the past few months, and he always does what his rider asks. The large horse steps hesitantly into the woods. If it could talk, it would probably ask Lucas what he thinks the deer was running away from in the first place…

Lucas and Cormorant have only been in the woods a few minutes and Lucas already feels doubt rising from deep in the pit of his stomach. It’s darker in the woods, the canopy above them filtering out most of the light, and the path doesn’t go straight across toward Carnifex House, but rather winds its way around some of the larger trees. Lucas can hear the rising chorus of crickets and night creatures, and he can smell the earthy scent of dead leaves as a low-lying layer of fog rises from the ground, brought on by the cooler evening air. 

A shudder runs through Lucas as he recalls the small boy on the beach earlier in the day. What were his exact words? You shouldn’t go into the woods? “It’s just a coincidence…” he says out loud, his voice sounding small among the ancient, towering trees surrounding him. Lucas glances behind him, wondering if they should turn around, but the path disappears from sight around the bend a few paces back. He decides to press on and he and Cormorant advance in silence, the only sound the shuffling of dead leaves and the gentle thud of Cormorant’s hooves on the dirt path. They’ve been walking for what feels like an eternity in the dimming light when Lucas hears the sound of chimes up ahead. Relief floods over him, they must be coming to the end of the woods and are probably approaching someone’s farm! With renewed energy he pushes Cormorant forward.

They come around a bend in the path and Lucas sees a tall arch made of branches and vines spanning over the path like a rainbow. It is more than large enough for he and Cormorant to walk under, but something deep inside tells him to proceed with caution. Lucas hears the chimes again and looks up. Tied to the top of the arch is a collection of trinkets, not unlike the ones at the antique shop; spoons, bells, windchimes, metal chains, precious stones and gems, all dangling from a variety of strings and ribbons, creating a strange symphony as they encounter one another when the breeze blows through. “How utterly bizarre!” whispers Lucas.

Noting that visibility has been greatly reduced in the time he and Cormorant have been walking through the woods he presses the horse to keep moving forward through the archway. Cormorant puts up a bit of a fuss but eventually concedes. As they pass through the arch, the wind picks up, making the noise of the tinkering objects above grow louder. The branches of the surrounding trees bend and stretch, their leaves creating a sound like the ocean. Lucas closes his eyes as the wind pushes up a cloud of dust from the path. He can still feel Cormorant’s body beneath him in the saddle, but he can no longer tell if they are moving or standing still. On the wind he can faintly hear a woman’s voice singing. Eyes still closed he strains to listen, and gradually the voice gets louder. It sounds surreal, mystical almost, not quite human. Lucas feels dizzy and disoriented, like his mind and body are separating, and his mind is being pulled toward the sound of the voice. He feels a sense of peace wash over him, and feels himself floating away on the sound waves, mesmerized. 

The wind slowly fades away, taking the singing with it, and Lucas takes a moment to come to his senses. He notes that he is still on Cormorant’s back, and the horse is standing perfectly still.  “What just happened?” he says to the horse, but Cormorant remains still and silent.

Lucas finally opens his eyes and sees a dusky sky above. They are no longer in the woods! He squints his eyes, still irritated from the dust, and notes that he and Cormorant are standing in a field next to a tall oak tree. In the distance he can see a road, and some houses. Something about the scene feels familiar to him but his mind still feels foggy. 

Suddenly, a crow caws loudly from a tree branch above, startling Cormorant and sending the massive animal galloping forward.  “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” shouts Lucas, holding on for dear life. He manages to quiet the horse after a few paces and pulls it to stop. They are now standing on a gravel road. Lucas catches his breath before hopping off Cormorant’s back. He leads the horse up a nearby driveway, hoping to find someone to point him in the direction of Carnifex House. Magpie will be beside herself with worry at this point!

Lucas walks a few paces alongside Cormorant before glancing up at the house ahead. He feels a mixture of confusion and horror wash over him as he realizes what he is looking at. Standing before him, washed in the last fading light of day, is Magpie’s old farmhouse in Pocket. Lucas stops in his tracks, his entire body trembling. He hears the ringing in his ears growing louder as he stands staring at the impossible scene before him. A man steps out the front door of the house and starts walking toward him, just as Lucas loses consciousness.

Thank you so much for listening.  Join me next week for Wingspan chapter 16, Nightfall, where Magpie begins to worry after Lucas and Cormorant don’t return from their ride, and Manon provides some very unsettling information.

Before I go, I’d like to thank Phaeton Starling Publishing for this fantastically eerie story, as well as Cannelle for composing eerie, mood-setting music for this podcast. 

If you are enjoying this story, please consider leaving a rating or a review, they’re both greatly appreciated. You can also support my work through a donation via your podcast provider or by subscribing to my Patreon where you get early access to episodes as well as MP3 downloads of the music, artwork, writing, recipes, and more! Checks the show notes for links.

Thank you.

In today’s episode we read Chapter 14 – Swan Dive – where Lucas explores the land surrounding Carnifex House with Cormorant, and is shocked to find a familiar item in a small antique shop.

Brought to you by: Phaeton Starling Publishing and Things with Wings Productions.

The Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.com

The Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbell

Author/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.com

Join Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveri

Melissa on Instagram: @the.mop.pod

Melissa on Twitter: @melissaoliveri

All music by Cannelle - http://www.cannellemusic.com

Cannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.music

FULL TRANSCRIPT:

Things with Wings Productions presents: Episode 14 of The Skylark Bell, Wingspan. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.  

In our previous episode, Magpie read a letter from her departed father.

In today’s episode we read Chapter 14 – Swan Dive – where Lucas explores the land surrounding Carnifex House with Cormorant, and is shocked to find a familiar item in a small antique shop.

Now, it’s time to settle in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink… and let’s get started.

“You look like you’ve been riding your whole life!” says Magpie, shielding her eyes from the sun to look up at Lucas, who is sitting proudly on Cormorant’s back. Lucas has built a bond with Cormorant over the past few weeks, and they’ve been going for long rides exploring the area around Carnifex House and the small seaside town of Pòcaid. “Where will you be going today?” asks Magpie, smiling. She recalls how she and Lucas spent the entire summer exploring the year she moved to Pocket. It seems like a lifetime ago. They are both older now, but Lucas still has that same taste for adventure.

“I think I’m going to head down to the beach, then take the main road up and check out the gardens at Goldcrest Manor,” he says, looking down at Magpie and admiring the way the sun falling on her hair turns it a fiery shade of orange. “I’ll be back in time for dinner!” he says over his shoulder as he and Cormorant head out. Lucas and Magpie have decided to eat a fancy home-cooked dinner on their patio, and Lucas is secretly planning to propose with the small feather ring, which is still safely tucked away in his pocket. Magpie waves goodbye and watches Lucas and Cormorant until they are out of sight before turning and heading back toward the house.

Lucas and Cormorant make their way down the winding path to the beach. The sun shines through a soft brushstroke of clouds and a gentle breeze makes the tall grasses on either side of the dirt path sway like they are dancing to music no one else can hear. At last Lucas and Cormorant reach the bottom of the hill and the ocean opens up before them, caressing the sandy beach with each rolling wave. Lucas guides Cormorant toward the left, away from town, and follows the shoreline. Up ahead he sees a massive bird dive into the ocean, promptly coming up with a silvery fish in its beak, then using its massive wingspan to lift back up into the sky. A Gannet, Lucas thinks, remembering the time Manon had pointed one out to him. They had been talking about local wildlife that day, and she had been teaching him French words for some of the animals. “Chevreuil,” she would say when they’d see a deer, then she’d giggle when he tried and failed to pronounce it as well as her. One time they saw a large crow on a fence post behind Carnifex House, “Un Corbeau!” said Manon, turning to Lucas with expectation. “I can say that one!” he had laughed before shouting “Un Corbeau!”, scaring the shiny black bird back into the sky.

The sound of stones landing in the water brings Lucas’ attention back to the beach. Up ahead, a small boy is trying his best to skip rocks into the oncoming waves. A tall slim man dressed entirely in black keeps watch from a distance. As Lucas approaches the boy looks up at him with unusually large blue eyes. “Hullo,” he says with a perfect English accent.

“Hi there!” says Lucas.

“Daddy!” shouts the boy, “I think he’s from America!” At this point the boy’s father is only a few steps away. He smiles kindly at Lucas but remains silent.  “You have a big, weird horse” says the boy, very matter of fact.

“Indeed, I do!” laughs Lucas.

“You shouldn’t go into the forest,” says the boy, his voice taking on a very serious tone. Lucas furrows his brow, he has no intention of riding through the woods today, but why would this little boy say that to him?

“Alright Ash, time to head home,” says the man, giving Lucas a sharp nod before tapping the boy on the shoulder.

“Goodbye, man from America with the big, weird horse!” shouts the boy, laughing as he skips away down the shore. 

Lucas shakes his head, watching as the boy and his father disappear up a grassy path away from the beach.

“All right Cormorant, how about we head toward town?” he asks the horse. Cormorant’s ears wave back and forth, catching Lucas’ words off the wind. Lucas pivots the horse, and they follow the shoreline back toward town. 

Lucas breathes in the cool, salty air, marveling at the beauty of the island. He comes around the bend and sees the bright colours of downtown Pòcaid up ahead. Squinting in the distance he notices a small structure tucked away behind the Skye Blue Bakery. He’s never noticed the small wooden house before, having never come into town from this direction. He pulls up to the house and reads the sign above the door “Swan Dive Antiques. Let’s go check it out!” he says, excited to have discovered something new. He guides Cormorant toward the back of the shop and ties him to a fence post. “I’ll be right back, okay?” he says, patting the horse’s neck gently.  He walks around to the front of the building and lets himself in. Inside, the low-lit shop is chock-full of antiques; everything from large pieces of furniture to stacks of chairs, vintage blankets, trinkets, and jewelry. 

“You’re looking for a gift,” says a voice from the back of the store. Lucas squints into the darkness before taking a few tentative steps further into the shop. A woman steps forward into the light, a delicate smile on her face.

“Actually, I’m not really looking for anything in particular, I was just out for a horse ride and noticed your shop. I’ve never seen it before, you’re kind of hidden from the main road,” he says.

The woman’s smile stretches a little more. “Those who need me know where to find me,” she says. “My name is Shelta, it’s lovely to meet you…” she lets her voice trail, giving Lucas a chance to introduce himself.

“Lucas,” he replies. “My… girlfriend… and I live up at Carnifex House” he says, fumbling with the world girlfriend all while bracing for the woman’s reaction at the mention of Carnifex House. Unlike the other villagers, she doesn’t even flinch, and instead motions for him to follow her to a display case at the back of the store, her leather lace-up boots echoing on the wood floor.

“Perhaps your girlfriend would appreciate one of these,” she says, turning on the small built-in lights so he can see the contents of the glass case. An eclectic array of belongings is displayed on velvet mats, ranging from vintage costume jewelry to silver spoons, old engagement rings, antique writing quills with ink wells, and a variety of stones and crystals which, according to the small handwritten sign next to them, have various healing and magical properties. A small figurine shaped like a bird whittled out of wood catches his eye, and he’s about to ask the shopkeeper to look at it when a sound above his head makes him look up. Hanging from the rafters in the ceiling are several windchimes and bells, and one in particular causes Lucas to gasp. He would recognize it anywhere, even in a low-lit hidden antique shop an ocean away from Meadow Lane… There, hanging from the end of a long cobalt blue velvet ribbon, is The Skyark Bell.

“What on earth?!” he whispers to himself. 

“Ah, yes, this item is very old indeed, some say it dates back to the time of the druids!” says the shopkeeper, her smile never leaving her face. Lucas is too shocked to respond. “Perhaps this would make a nice addition to your home, it has a beautiful sound,” she adds. Lucas nods, as if in a dream state. The woman unties the end of the ribbon, setting the bell free. She gently wraps it with some pale blue tissue paper before stretching her arm across the counter to hand it to Lucas. “Consider this a welcome gift,” she says in a tone that leaves no room for discussion, her eyes fixated on Lucas’ face like she can see right through him.

“Thank you,” he stutters, still stunned, before placing the bell in his coat pocket.

“I’m afraid it’s time for me to close now,” she says, her smile never faltering. Lucas nods and heads back out the door. He has barely come down the front steps when he hears the loud click of the deadbolt in the door as the remaining lights in the shop go dark. Lucas looks up at the darkening sky. What time is it? He wonders, he didn’t think he’d been in the store all that long. He scurries to the back and is relieved to see Cormorant standing patiently next to the fencepost. 

“Time to head home, old friend” he says, lifting himself gently into the saddle.

Lucas and Cormorant walk briskly toward the main road that climbs the cliff above the town, Lucas making note of how rapidly daylight is fading from the sky above.

Thank you so much for listening.  Join me next week for Wingspan chapter 15, Gateway, where Lucas and Cormorant take a turn that will change the course of their lives, and Magpie’s, forever.

Before I go, I’d like to thank Phaeton Starling Publishing for this fantastically eerie story, as well as Cannelle for composing eerie, mood-setting music for this podcast. 

If you are enjoying this story, please consider leaving a rating or a review, they’re both greatly appreciated. You can also support my work through a donation via your podcast provider or by subscribing to my Patreon where you get early access to episodes as well as MP3 downloads of the music, artwork, writing, recipes, and more! Checks the show notes for links.

Thank you.

In today’s episode we read Chapter 13 – Love, Dad - in which Magpie reads a letter from her estranged father.

Brought to you by: Phaeton Starling Publishing and Things with Wings Productions.

The Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.com

The Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbell

Author/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.com

Join Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveri

Melissa on Instagram: @the.mop.pod

Melissa on Twitter: @melissaoliveri

All music by Cannelle - http://www.cannellemusic.com

Cannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.music

FULL TRANSCRIPT:

Things with Wings Productions presents: Episode 13 of The Skylark Bell, Wingspan. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.  

In our previous episode, Mrs Phaeton paid a visit to Carnifex House, and broke the sad news to Magpie that her father had passed away.

In today’s episode we read Chapter 13 – Love, Dad - in which Magpie reads a letter from her estranged father.

Now, it’s time to settle in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink… and let’s get started.

Magpie feels a lump in her throat and a heaviness in her stomach as she watches the car pull away. It was a difficult goodbye, knowing she wouldn’t see her mother for the better part of a year. She watches as the car disappears around the bend, a single tear winding its way down her cheek, then turns around to walk back into the quiet, empty house.

Lucas is at the Caretaker’s Cottage working on the roof, which sprung a leak during a rain storm the night before. Lucky for the Sarcelles he and Magpie had been doing a daily check on their house. 

Magpie wanders aimlessly from room to room, echoes of the time spent with her mother over the past week playing in her mind. She can still see them sitting at the dining room table enjoying an early breakfast before taking a morning walk down to the beach. She pictures her mother curled up in a blanket by the fireplace as they chat about art, music, life. She can hear echoes of laughter as they sat out on the little patio, a fire gently roaring in the fire pit, or the sound of pots and pans and dishes as they prepared a glorious pasta dish and mocha cupcakes for their last dinner together the night before. 

Magpie heaves a sigh. Having circled the main floor, she walks slowly up the stairs to the bedrooms. The sunlight filters through the sheer curtains in the window of the room Mrs. Phaeton had stayed in, creating a shaft of light on the bed where she and Magpie had sat when she broke the news to Magpie that her father had passed away, and handed her a letter he left behind.

Magpie lays her hand against the pocket of her jeans. She’s been carrying that letter every day since her mother handed it to her. Placing it in her nightstand drawer before bed and slipping it back into her pocket after getting dressed each morning. She hasn’t been able to bring herself to break the seal and read the words written by the father she never knew. But now, in this quiet, empty room filled with the comforting warmth of the sun and the fragrant smell of the wildflowers in the vase next to the bed, she feels like it is time.

Magpie walks across the room and looks out the window at the sea, sparkling as the sun’s rays tickle the water. It is an absolutely perfect early fall day. She cracks the window open, letting in a light breeze that sends the sheer curtains billowing like two small ghosts tethered to the curtain rod. She takes a few steps back and pulls the letter out of her pocket before sitting on the edge of the bed. With her finger, she gently traces the letters of her name written on the envelope. A tear falls on the paper, creating a star shape as the ink runs in the top corner of the letter M. Magpie wipes her eyes roughly with her palm before turning the envelope over and slowly breaking the seal. She exhales heavily, suddenly realizing she has been holding her breath. 

She gingerly slips the letter out of the envelope and unfolds it. Pressing the page down on her lap to flatten out the creases. She holds it up to the sunlight, taking in the rows of letters and spaces that, when put together, compose her father’s final message to her. “You can do this,” she says out loud, the words echoing in the empty room. She takes one more deep breath and starts reading.

My sweet Magpie,

I have been staring at this blank page for days. So many times, I have thought about what to say to you, and the words just never seemed right. I find myself at the point now where there is no time left for me to sort it out, so I will do my best to convey my message and hope that you will also be able to grasp all that is not written. 

The first thing I need to do is tell you I love you. The second is that I am sorry. I am sorry for all that I missed. I am sorry for making you think I never wanted to be with you, to get to know you… I am sorry because that couldn’t be further from the truth. If I’m honest, I simply felt that I was not worthy, that being in your life would make it worse, not better. As I write this, I am looking at a stack of unsent birthday and holiday cards and gifts, things for a tiny little girl, things for a teenage girl, and things for a woman. Things I could simply never find the courage to send. All those years lost, but you were always on my mind, every single day. I will pack these cards and gifts and make sure they find their way to you somehow.

I have written your mother her own letter, but it is important for me that you know that she and I loved each other deeply, and hurt each other deeply, but I bear her no ill will and I have absolutely no regrets about my relationship with her, because it brought you into the world, and you are a bright, shining light.

I don’t have any amazing stories to tell, I have lived a simple life. I never remarried, I worked a steady job and lived in the same one-bedroom apartment in the city. My belongings are of no interest, I have nothing that would be meaningful to you, no mementos or awards or family jewels. All I can leave you are the following words of advice, which come directly from my heart. 

 If you love someone, tell them. Don’t wait. Time is the most precious thing in the world. No one can be sure there will be a tomorrow. Spend time with those you love. I can’t tell you the tremendous regret I feel that I never spent time with you, the person in the world I love the most. I always thought there would come a day when we would be reunited, but here I am, out of time. How I wish I could go back and change things, tell your mother just how much I loved her, and love her still. Things would have been so different. 

The last and most important thing is this, my dear Magpie. If your life doesn’t work out the way you hoped, if it is thrown off track by loss, or unexpected change, don’t let your heart grow hard. Don’t become bitter or angry or vengeful. Don’t hold on to those feelings, they will not serve you well. Try to find a place of acceptance, and a path forward. There is always a chance for a bright, happy future, no matter how dark things seem at any given moment. Everything finds its way in time. I wish I had learned that much earlier.

If ever you feel lonely, or scared, just think of me, and I will be there. I will be there will all my heart, holding you, whispering comforting words in your ear. Just listen for me. 

I wish you love, happiness, light, and all the time in the world.

Fly high, sweet bird. 

Love,

Dad

Magpie lays the letter next to her on the bed on a small patch of sunlight, the tears streaming freely down her face. 

“I’m home!” she hears Lucas’ voice downstairs, quickly followed by the sound of his footsteps coming upstairs. 

“I’m in here,” she says, the words coming out of her sounding odd, her throat tight with grief. 

Lucas walks into the room, his face filled with concern. “Magpie, are you okay?”

Magpie falls into his arms, letting his warmth radiate through her. They stay silent for a moment, then Magpie steps back to look into his face. “I love you, Lucas,” she says quietly.

“I love you too, Magpie,” he replies softly. They smile at each other, relieved to finally express the feelings that had been building up for years. Lucas slips his hand into his pocket, feeling the small feather ring he’s been carrying around every day for years. “Tomorrow, tomorrow I will give it to Magpie, tomorrow I’ll ask her to marry me,” he thinks, basking in the glowing feeling of joy washing through him. 

Magpie leans her head on Lucas’ shoulder, relishing the feeling of warmth and safety that has settled in her chest. Her father’s words of advice echo in her mind, “Don’t wait, time is the most precious thing in the world, no one can be sure there will be a tomorrow...”

Thank you so much for listening.  Join me next week for Wingspan chapter 14, Swan Dive, in which Lucas explores the land surrounding Carnifex House and the town of Pòcaid with Cormorant, and is shocked to find a familiar item in a small antique shop. 

Before I go, I’d like to thank Phaeton Starling Publishing for this fantastically eerie story, as well as Cannelle for composing eerie, mood-setting music for this podcast. 

If you are enjoying this story, please consider leaving a rating or a review, they’re both greatly appreciated. You can also support my work through a donation via your podcast provider or by subscribing to my Patreon where you get early access to episodes as well as MP3 downloads of the music, artwork, writing, recipes, and more! Checks the show notes for links.

Thank you.

In today’s episode we read Chapter 12 – A Special Guest -in which Magpie and Lucas entertain someone very special at Carnifex House, and Magpie gets some devastating news.

Brought to you by: Phaeton Starling Publishing and Things with Wings Productions.

The Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.com

The Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbell

Author/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.com

Join Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveri

Melissa on Instagram: @the.mop.pod

Melissa on Twitter: @melissaoliveri

All music by Cannelle - http://www.cannellemusic.com

Cannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.music

FULL TRANSCRIPT:

Things with Wings Productions presents: Episode 12 of The Skylark Bell, Wingspan. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.  

In our previous episode, Magpie had a scary experience at the Lark Festival in a vision in which she was crowned the Skye Lark Belle.

In today’s episode we read Chapter 12 – A Special Guest - in which Magpie and Lucas entertain a very special visitor.

Now, it’s time to settle in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink… and let’s get started.

Lucas expertly flips the egg in the pan just as the toaster pops.

“Like clockwork!” says Magpie, walking into the kitchen, “I’m ravenous and that smells amazing!” 

“So, when you say “like clockwork”, are you referring to the timing of the toaster and egg flip, or are you referring to you walking into the kitchen at the exact moment that breakfast is ready?” he asks, leaning over and giving her a teasing poke in the arm.

“A Little bit of both?” she replies, winking. 

“What time does your mom arrive again?” he asks, placing a heaping plate of food in front of Magpie and filling her mug with hot, dark coffee.

“She’s taking the 9 o’clock ferry, so she should be here around 10:30 or 11 depending on the weather!” says Magpie, unable to hide the excitement in her voice.

They wrap up their breakfast and Lucas heads out to tend to Cormorant while Magpie does the washing up. She puts the dishes away and starts slowly walking through the house room by room, ensuring everything is perfect for her mother’s arrival. She smiles at the fresh wildflower bouquet sitting in a vase by the living room window, Manon had brought it over the previous evening before she and Alfred left town to visit their son Julien in Paris for the week. “I’m very sorry we will not get to meet your mother, if she is anything like you, she must be a wonderful lady,” she had said, handing the flowers to Magpie.  

Now Magpie walks upstairs to check on the guest bedroom. The floral print of the handmade comforter on the antique four-poster bed brightens up the room. The late summer sun filters through the suncatcher hanging in the window, casting a rainbow onto the hardwood floor. Magpie had ventured into Crake’s Odd’s n’ Ends looking for the perfect finishing touch for the room, and as Mr. Crake had told them on the very first day, he had exactly what she needed. Magpie is placing a small vase of daisies on the nightstand when she hears the sound of the back door.

“Cormorant is all good,” says Lucas as Magpie walks into the room. “How are we doing for time?” he asks, pulling off his rubber boots and fixing his socks.

Magpie glances at the clock. “It’s 10:20 already, I suppose she could be here any minute!” she says. Right on cue, the sound of a car coming down the lane sends her heart pitter-pattering. Magpie races to the front door and watches the car come to a stop just a few yards away. She races outside, barefoot, and gets to the car just as her mom steps out. They fall into each other’s arms, laughing and crying at the same time, talking over each other excitedly.

“It’s been so long I – “  “How was your tri-“ “Oh sorry you go ah-“ “Oops, you go fir-“

They giggle and finally Magpie takes the lead. “How was your trip?” she asks.

“Long, and a little lonely, but good,” replies Mrs. Phaeton before glancing over Magpie’s shoulder, “Lucas! Oh my, you’ve turned into a grown man over the summer!” she exclaims.

At this Lucas blushes slightly, “It’s nice to see you Mrs. Phaeton,” he says.

“Please, call me Danielle. We’ve known each other long enough, and Mrs. Phaeton makes me feel older than my years if I’m being honest,” she says warmly.

“Come see the house!” says Magpie, grabbing her mother by the hand and pulling her along. “It’s lovely mom, it’s got so much history, wait ‘til you see the stone walls, and the wooden beams!” Magpie starts rattling off all her favourite things about Carnifex House as they walk toward the door, Lucas trailing behind with a suitcase in each hand.

“It’s unfortunate the caretakers are out of town!” says Mrs. Phaeton, walking into the living room.

“They planned their trip months ago, and they were very sorry they wouldn’t get to meet you. In fact, Manon brought this bouquet of flowers over last night just for you,” replies Magpie. 

Mrs. Phaeton looks at the flowers and smiles, “It looks like you’ve really settled in here.”

“It’s strange mom, I just feel at home here. I don’t really understand it, but I feel like I’m supposed to be here,” says Magpie.

“Sometimes we feel pulled toward something and it’s not our job to question it. That’s how I felt about moving to Pocket, about that farmhouse specifically… and look what happened, it turns out we are related to the people who built it!” Mrs. Phaeton heaves a sigh, “I don’t have all the answers, but if you feel drawn to this place then you should stay here. I can’t say it’ll be easy to live so far apart though…” at this Mrs. Phaeton gets a sad, nostalgic look on her face. She walks over to Magpie and holds her tightly in her arms. “You are not my baby anymore; you’ve got your wings and now it’s your turn to fly. I am so very proud of you,” she says, causing Magpie to blink back tears. They sit by the fireplace and chat, catching up on an entire summer’s worth of adventures, as the hours trickle by.

“Okay, Cormorant is settled in for the night, shall we go have dinner?” asks Lucas, walking in from the dining room.

“Always thinking about food this one,” says Mrs. Phaeton, pointing her thumb sideways at Lucas, “some things never change!” At this the three of them laugh.

“How is it dinner time already?!” exclaims Magpie. 

“Time flies, my beautiful bird!” says her mom affectionately as they gather their things and walk out the door.

The Red Kite Café is alive with music and chatter, nearly every table occupied. Magpie, Lucas, and Mrs. Phaeton sit outside on the patio, the sound of the waves crashing into the concrete wall across the street the perfect soundtrack to their dinner.

“What in the world is Cullen Skink?!” asks Mrs. Phaeton, glancing at the menu with her brow furrowed. Magpie and Lucas exchange a look and break out in laughter.

“We asked the same question on our first day here!” says Lucas before launching into an explanation. They sit outside chatting about their respective adventures and enjoying the view, the sounds, and the amazing food, before heading back up to Carnifex House.

“This will be your room for the week,” says Magpie, showing her mom into the guest room, “Just let me know if you need anything at all.”

Mrs. Phaeton enters the room and sits down on the bed, patting the empty space next to her. Magpie walks over and sits next to her mother. 

“Magpie, there’s something I have to tell you,” she says, looking deeply in Magpie’s eyes. Magpie instantly feels a heaviness forming in the pit of her stomach. “It’s about your dad…” Mrs. Phaeton’s voice trails off. She takes a deep breath before continuing. “I got a phone call a couple of weeks ago from an old mutual friend. He was able to contact me when he saw an advertisement for my gallery exhibit after doing an online search. Honey, I’m so sorry, but your father passed away 3 weeks ago. I wanted to wait until we were together to tell you.”

Magpie sits, staring at her mom, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. Her dad had left them when she was a baby. She’d never received a birthday card, or gift for the holidays, or even a phone call, not a single one! So… why does she feel so devastated? 

“What happened?” she asks, her voice trembling.

“Apparently he had been quite ill the past several years,” says her mother quietly. “I never kept in touch with him after he left us. The truth is, the thought of being in contact with him hurt too much. I never stopped loving him. It’s hard to move on from your first real, true love. We were young, we made mistakes, I said things I shouldn’t have said, some really awful things. Then I told him to leave and never come back…and he did just that.” She pauses, a faraway look in her eyes. “I’m not excusing him. He should have been there for you. But I can see why he didn’t want to be with me.” Now tears are streaming down Mrs. Phaeton’s cheeks too. “What I’m trying to say is, we all made mistakes back then, Magpie. My one regret is letting so much time go by without reaching out to make amends. Which brings me to this…”  Mrs. Phaeton reaches into her pocket and pulls out an envelope. “Your dad left this letter for you. There was one for me, too. His friend shipped them to me in London so I could give it to you in person.” 

Magpie holds the plain white envelope in her hand. She runs her finger over the letters of her name written on the front in block letters.

“You should read it in a quiet, private place when you feel ready,” says Mrs. Phaeton gently.

Magpie nods solemnly as she stands up and walks to the doorway. “Thanks mom,” she says, “I love you. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight my beautiful bird. I love you too,” says her mom solemnly before turning off the light. 

Magpie watches as darkness washes over the room, the letter from the father she never knew clutched tightly in her hand.

Thank you so much for listening.  Join me next week for Wingspan chapter 13, Love, Dad – in which Magpie reads a letter from her estranged father.

Before I go, I’d like to thank Phaeton Starling Publishing for this fantastically eerie story, as well as Cannelle for composing eerie, mood-setting music for this podcast. 

If you are enjoying this story, please consider leaving a rating or a review, they’re both greatly appreciated. You can also support my work through a donation via your podcast provider or by subscribing to my Patreon where you get early access to episodes as well as MP3 downloads of the music, artwork, writing, recipes, and more! Checks the show notes for links.

Thank you.