Michael's Wish, part 7

Margaret came in the door with her arms filled with bows, ribbon and fancy paper. She announced to Henry that she needed several servents to bring in parcels. Michael marvelled at his wife's endurance for holiday shopping. “I thought we already had everything we needed this year.”

“Well, I wanted to be sure.”

“Sure? I think you just spent my quarterly income in one month.” Michael smiled gamely as he went to put his briefcase away.

As he set it down in the house's administrative office, Holmes appeared in the office door. “Mr. Wallace?” the valet intoned.

Michael snapped upright. “Yes?”

“Lord Wallace had a short fit today, but he has returned. I believe he has gone down to the pool.”

“Thank you, Holmes.”

Michael's even demeanor broke the minute Morgan's valet left. He got up and raced across the back rooms of the house until he reached a specific staircase. He only slowed enough to prevent himself from falling down the steps. As he worked his way down to the sub-basement, he was about to turn into the next staircase when he noticed a gaggle of people desperately trying to keep up with him. He looked down the stairs, then looked back. He shook his head at his followers and dashed down the steps. He felt his way for the lights. He only flipped on the set for the near end and left the stairway and far end dark. He approached the edge of the pool. A couple articles of clothing floated in the water, but he didn't see a body. He ran into the dark as he heard the others approaching.

He felt for a false wall panel in the dark. It wasn't quiet anymore when it slid open, but it wasn't visible in the dark either. He let it slide shut. It had been a long time since he'd been past the pool, even longer since he'd been to the 'dungeon' levels. Save for his daughters, no one else in the family knew the pool was down here. He could hear them on the other side trying to find him. He felt in the dark for the hewn stone steps downwards.

As he found himself in an unwired part of the original castle, Michael incanted and a cold flame appeared in his hand. He found Morgan sitting in a cell, huddled in a corner with a several bottles of various spirits. Morgan stirred at the sound of footsteps. “Care to join me? If you don't mind the cold, it's a good place to hide.”

“I'm sorry. I was followed. They obviously haven't found the last false door, but it's a matter of time.”

Morgan only smirked. “I will just go deeper.”

Michael sat down next to his brother and put an arm around him. “Christmas is only a few days away.”

“Yes, I was just building up my courage.”

“Grey Goose, Jack Daniels, Dewar's, Baileys... This isn't courage.”

“No, they just shut out the voices so I can build up my courage. Just a smile on Christmas Day, eh?”

“Morgan, since it is just the two of us, where do you go?”

“It's complicated. I do not go any specific place.”

Michael opened a bottle and drank a couple swallows from it. As he leaned against Morgan, he sang: “Have yourself a merry little Christmas, let your heart be light...”

“If you continue with that song, it won't help my depression any.”

“Fine, I'll stop singing in English, that should help. Isn't there a Swedish version?”

By the time the others found them, he and Morgan were singing Beethoven's Ode to Joy in badly mangled Latin.