Through the Looking Glass
by Lovesfox

Headers in Prologue


Part 13

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Diary of Liza MacGregor
October 20, 1901

My own health has been in decline for some time, though I have 
hidden it well.

I must see the mirror fed again before I pass on, and will reveal 
the nature of the curse to Marie Rose, and that it is the cause 
of her mother's death. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Starbuck House
9:50 AM

After checking out the other guest rooms on the second floor and 
noting aloud that two of those rooms were also decorated in a 
flower motif –- one in lilacs and the other in violets -- Mulder 
suggested they take another walk in the back forest.  

Scully agreed, despite the urge to look at the bible they had 
found, and to read the diary, and they stopped to deposit the 
items in her room.  First wrapping them up in her cardigan, she 
then tucked the sweater into her suitcase, beneath a cloth 
laundry bag she kept for her lingerie.  The suitcase was locked 
and returned to its place beneath her bed and they exited, Scully 
ensuring her door was also locked and tucking the key into her 
jacket pocket.  

They encountered no one on their walk downstairs, and quickly 
made their way to the back door Mulder had used when he had gone 
for his run the first night of their stay, and stepped outside.

The sky was heavy and gray with impending storms, and it was 
drizzling slightly, but he hoped in the light of day they would 
have better success with this outing than with their previous
one the night before.  Though again he was not sure what he hoped 
they might find or discover, and it could end up a complete waste 
of time.  

Still, the fact remained that someone, someone he was certain was 
John Carrington, had been out walking in the dark, cold rain.

Muttering something that contained the words 'damn rain', Scully 
pulled her hood up and tucked her hair inside before zipping her 
jacket up all the way.  Grimacing in empathy, and then fighting 
a smile at the look of disgruntlement on his partner's face, 
Mulder did the same with his coat.

In case they were under observation, Mulder and Scully maintained 
an appearance of casualness, strolling across the lawn.  Pausing 
at the gardens as if admiring the display, he took the opportunity 
to ask Scully if she recognized any of the herbs growing in the 
second garden.

"Mmmm...thyme, rosemary, sage I think," she replied, walking over 
and crouching down to peer at a particular plant.  One fingertip 
reached out and delicately lifted a leaf on a plant nearest to 
her, rubbing it gently and sniffing the air.  "This is peppermint, 
and," pointing to a few plants behind it, "these here are chamomile 
and lavender."  

Rising, she jutted her chin towards the back of the smaller garden, 
blinking her eyes rapidly as misty raindrops settled on her 
eyelashes.  "I don't recognize any of those at all."  Looking at 
her partner, she added, "Quite an extensive herb garden though, 
and it appears they're not just for cooking."  Shrugging slightly, 
she opined, "Maybe Nancy or John is into home remedies."

"Maybe," Mulder replied, nodding slowly.  Gesturing at the herb 
garden before them, he then said, "Just curious, Scully.  How did 
you get so knowledgeable on the subject?"

Scully's smile was small, and full of fond remembrance.  "Melissa," 
she answered with wistfulness.  "She was very interested in 
homeopathic healing and I ended up doing research into alternative 
medicines."

"Walk on the wild side, huh partner?" Mulder teased, nudging her 
slightly. 

She laughed, and gave him a small shove back, muttering under her 
breath, "I'd like to show you wild."

Partially turning away from his partner, Mulder's gaze scanned the 
tree line at the back.  "Hey, Scully, how about that walk in the 
woods?" he said with mock-exuberance, gesturing expansively towards 
the woods in question for the benefit of any possible audience.

Scully had to admit to feeling both relief and disappointment that 
he had not caught her little comment.  Or had he, and was he just 
uncertain as to how to respond?  She shook her head; she was not 
going to delve into that right now.  

"How about it," she responded dryly, vividly picturing the muddy 
and wet terrain ahead of them in her mind.  Sighing, she said 
resignedly, "Lead on, Mac Duff."

He waggled his eyebrows at her and offered his arm, which she took 
with an arch of one finely shaped brow, showing her surprise and 
suspicion at his gallantry.

They neared the shed he had noted their first night at the Inn, 
when he had gone for his exploring run, and he felt compelled to 
look inside once more.  Wondering once more about the possibility 
of observation by one or both of the Carringtons, he squeezed 
Scully's arm slightly and said, "Scully, your bootlace."

Scully glanced down at her bootlaces, which were neatly and 
securely tied, and then at her partner, knowing her curiosity was 
evident.  She realized his intent almost instantly however, 
understanding he wanted her to pretend to tie her boot for the
benefit of any possible audience. 

Releasing his arm, she dropped into a crouch and mimed the 
activity.

Shoving his hands in his pockets and whistling tunelessly, 
Mulder completed a slow pivot so that he ended up facing the 
house, taking the opportunity to scan the windows.  Particularly 
the attic window Scully had found a short time ago.  He tensed 
when a dark shadow passed that tiny circle of glass and narrowed 
his eyes in an effort to distinguish if there was a person there 
or not.  The gesture proved fruitless, and releasing a huff of 
irritation, he looked away, feigning an interest in the gardens 
once more.

"What's wrong, Mulder?" Scully asked quietly from her crouched 
position.

"Thought I saw something in that little attic window," he 
replied, turning his head to the side to look at her.

"Something or some*one*?"  She smiled at him and then returned 
to her imaginary task of tying her bootlace.

No reply was necessary.  With a casual air, he turned again a 
few seconds later, and moved over to the shed.  At the window, 
he leaned in to take a peek inside.  In the daylight, such as 
it was, he found it easier to make out the contents of the shed.  

The obligatory lawn tractor, a necessity with the size of the 
property, was parked in the middle of the 14x14 shed, while 
various and sundry garden tools were neatly hung from pegs that 
covered nearly one entire wall, the one facing the window that 
he was currently peering through.  Cupping his hands around his 
eyes and resting against the glass, he adjusted his footing in 
order to get a better look.  

There were more tools on the ground, leaning against the wall 
in the corner behind neatly stacked bags of soil, and his 
suspicious nature started working overtime at the sight of them.  
The two very large pick-axes, both appearing to be well used, 
and the two large spades did not strike him as the tools required 
to maintain the Carrington's not overly substantial gardens.

"Anything interesting?" 

Scully's voice interrupted his musings, and he slowly lowered 
his arms and took a step back to turn and meet his now standing 
partner's questioning gaze.  "Well, if we need anything excavated 
we could borrow their tools," he responded.  At the drawing down 
of her brows, he jerked his thumb in the direction of the shed 
and added, "The Carringtons must do some heavy digging; they've 
got quite the supply in there."

As one, they both turned and regarded the woods behind the house.

Their trek to the back fence was unintentionally quicker paced, 
and silent.  At the gate, Mulder unlatched it and held it open 
for Scully to pass through first.  As he stepped after her and 
turned to pull the gate shut behind him, he once again glanced 
up at the house, his gaze seeking the attic window.  But he saw 
no one.

They had walked for perhaps ten minutes or so, the mud making 
the going rather slow, when Mulder called out to Scully for them 
to halt.  His bootlace had snagged on a twig and come undone.  
He crouched down to retie it, peripherally aware of Scully 
trekking back from her lead and coming to a stop in front of him, 
her breaths huffing out slightly from the exertion.

The toe of one of her boots came into view, and he turned his 
head to give both the once-over.  Albeit muddy, her laces were 
fine.  Something else caught his attention, however, just a few 
inches away from Scully's right foot.

A broken branch, the end of which lay directly over a patch of 
tamped down earth.  The more he studied that patch, the more it 
appeared as if someone had gone to great lengths to camouflage 
it.  Leaning forward, he peered through the bushes, spying 
further patches of earth, cleared of the typical undergrowth.

"Hey, Scully?" he said.  At her answering hum, he rose to his 
feet and pointed beyond the bushes.  "Does that look like another 
path to you?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Diary of Liza MacGregor
May 14, 1903

The bitter estrangement between Marie Rose and I, a result of my 
revelation of the curse and its origins, continues on, as I 
silently celebrate her ever-waning health.

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Starbuck House Property
10:50 AM


Scully came closer and followed the direction of Mulder's pointing 
finger.  Her gaze first caught the signs that an animal or person 
had passed by recently –- a broken branch down low to the ground, 
depressions in the mud that were the possible remnants of foot or 
paw prints -– before venturing beyond and spying what her partner 
had seen.  Another path.  

A rather cleverly disguised path, with the bushes allowed to grow 
unchecked, blocking the entrance.  And at closer examination, the 
depressions were most certainly made by a human, and not an animal, 
she decided.  They were too uniform, the lines too straight to be 
anything but a boot or shoe.  And from the looks of them, they 
were fairly fresh, no more than a day or two old.  

Straightening from her crouch, she saw that Mulder was waiting 
expectantly for her reply, a somewhat smug expression on his face.

"Footprints, and recent, I'd say," she remarked first.  At his 
somewhat impatient nod, she agreed, "Yes, Mulder, that does look 
like another path to me."  Pushing a large, leafy branch aside 
with one arm to further reveal said path, she called back over her 
shoulder as she stepped past, "May I assume we'll be detouring?"

She could hear the laughter in his voice as he replied, "Now, 
Scully, one should never assume, for it makes an ass—"

The wet leaves of the branch whapping him in the face prevented 
him from completing his sentence.

Spitting a leaf away from his mouth, Mulder shoved the branch 
aside with a muttered curse and hurried after his partner, whom 
he would swear was giggling.  Coming up beside her, he gave her 
a little jab in the side.  "Not funny, partner."

Giving him a sidelong look and a sly smile, Scully remarked, 
"Maybe not from your point of view."

A surprisingly loud crack of thunder drowned out his less than 
charitable comment about her point of view.  Mulder decided to 
let the matter slide for now, and filed thoughts of revenge away 
for later retrieval.  Hopefully it would be when Scully least 
expected it, and worthy of the keen wit she rarely allowed 
herself to display.

Glancing up through the thin canopy of trees as they continued 
to make their way along the smaller and clearly less-used path, 
he saw that the sky had darkened severely.  He noticed Scully 
giving the sky similar glances, but as it was still only misting, 
he suggested they press on.  

They trudged onward, at times forced to walk single-file as the 
path narrowed in places before widening slightly again, and 
continued dodging the occasional branch or stepping over 
particularly protruding roots.  Ten or fifteen minutes soon passed, 
with little conversation between the partners, the sounds of the 
forest and the occasional thunder clap their only distractions.
 
Thunder boomed yet again, after a flash of lightning that lit the 
dark day brilliantly.  They both paused and eyed the sky again 
before resuming their trek without comment.

After two more such flashes of lightning though, Scully could no 
longer refrain from expressing her opinion. 

"Mulder," she said over her shoulder, her expression serious.  
"I know you really wanted to search these woods, and with the 
discovery of this hidden path it certainly seems like the 
investigative approach we need to take."  Her voice trailed off 
as she paused to scrape some of the mud from the soles of boots 
on a convenient root.  When she was done, she resumed speaking 
but not walking, noting her partner had also chosen to rid 
himself of some of the accumulated mud from his boots, using the 
same root.  "But I think with the way the weather is turning, it 
might be prudent to put this search off for now."

Mulder sighed, staring in frustration down the path to where it 
curved out of sight behind yet more trees.  He knew where Scully 
was going with this, and in all honesty, he had been thinking the 
exact same thing himself.  It was not advisable to be out in the 
forest in this kind of weather.  Certainly considering they had 
advised no one of their intentions, if anything was to happen to 
them.

"I know, Scully," he answered, his resignation clear.  Taking a 
quick look at his watch, and seeing that it was almost twenty past 
eleven, he added, "Besides, we do need to get into town.  We can 
head to the Pharmacy for lunch again and see if any of the locals 
feel gossipy before we meet with Dave Collingsworth."

"That sounds like a plan," Scully said.  "Perhaps Joe will be 
there," she added, recalling the friendly old man at the pharmacy 
counter, and his comment about haunted houses.

"We can ask him more about the curse he mentioned," Mulder said, 
echoing her thoughts.

With one last look along the path, he turned around and headed 
back the way they had come, Scully at his muddy heels.

By the time they reached the back gate, the rain had just begun 
to fall harder.  Knocking as much of the mud off their boots as 
possible, they exited the gate, Mulder latching it securely 
behind them, and made their way across the lawn to their rental 
car.  Once again, Mulder let his gaze play across the windows of 
the Inn.

Though he saw no one there, he did catch sight of a slicker-coated 
and empty-handed John Carrington standing on the path that led to 
the wheelchair ramp, apparently watching him and Scully.  The 
unsmiling Innkeeper nodded his head once as if in greeting and 
then disappeared around the side of the house.

Mulder knew by her swiftly indrawn breath that Scully had spied 
the man as well, and remarked, "I feel like a movie star, Scully.  
All this attention is going to go to my head."

"Would there be room?" his partner queried, a whimsical lilt to 
her voice.

Seeing her glance over at him, her eyes dancing, Mulder mimed 
clutching at his heart theatrically, staggering slightly.  
"Direct hit!"

She then graced him with a roll of her eyes as she rounded the 
car, a tiny smile playing at her lips.

Climbing into the passenger seat after brushing her jacket off, 
Scully saw Mulder's portfolio in the backseat, and hazarded a 
guess that he had put it in there earlier that morning while she
had still been in bed.  

"Do you have the files on the case?" she asked when Mulder had 
also gotten into the car, and proceeded to remove her jacket hood 
to comb her fingers through her hair.

"Put them in early this morning when I went for my jog," he 
replied as fastened his seatbelt, confirming her suspicion about 
the portfolio.  Turning the key in the ignition, he slowly backed 
up.  "While my partner worked on her beauty sleep," was his 
deadpan comment a moment later.

Scully fought a blush –- she was embarrassed at her tardiness the 
last two mornings, for it was not like her to sleep in while they 
were on a case.  "I'm sorry, Mulder," she murmured.  "It looks 
like I'll be investing in a new travel alarm clock when we get 
home."

He flapped his hand in the air, waving off her apology.  "Not a 
big deal, partner," he told her, glancing at her quickly before 
making a right-hand turn.  There was silence for a long moment 
and then he quietly stated, "And for the record, Scully, you don't 
need any beauty sleep."

Scully smiled, a warmth spreading through her at his words, and 
then turned her head to look out her window, knowing Mulder had 
seen the smile.

***

End Part 13