The Magpie & The Raven

t h r e e

The following morning is brisk and bright, the sun waking Calliope up long before anyone else seems to have stirred in the house. Her train back to London is in less than two hours. Calliope has an undeniable urge to ignore the ticking clock and return to bed, or possibly to slip out the kitchen door and disappear into the gardens of Ferndale Hall once more. She doesn't.

Rather, the young woman hauls herself upright and, nestled in an old woolen wrap over her night clothes with hair sticking out all over the place, made her way through the shadowy passages to the kitchen, still untouched by the morning light. Here she boils some hot water and sets about cutting some camomile and fenel for her tea. One last cup.

The morning is peaceful and soft, made up of tea and candlelight and a halfpacked suitcase slowly being filled, and Calliope savours it whilst she can for she knows her return to her Uncle's wont be so gentle. Nor so warm. Even without its usual residents Ferndale Hall is Calliope Watson's home and she will miss it dearly, in time.

It's about when she's finished folding the last frock into her case and is about to sip on her now lukewarm tea that Calliope's morning is rudely interrupted by none other than Mycroft Holme's himself.

"Miss Watson!" He thunders, barging into the room so suddenly Calliope starts, dropping her teacup. It clatters to the ground, the remaining liquid splashing over onto her socks and the rim chipping beyond repair. Her lips pull downwards, the urge to cry suddenly overcoming even her heartbeat as it crashes against her ribcage.

"Where is my ward?"

"I'm sorry?" Calliope can only stumble out, her eyes moving up to the furious man as the headmistress appears in the doorway behind him. They both stand over the woman, looking down on her in such a way that makes her feel smaller than she ever has before.

"Enola, stupid girl." Calliope isn't sure if the insult is aimed at Enola or herself, "What have you done with her?"

"What? I- I'm sorry, how do you mean 'done with her' sir?"

"She made it plain to everyone how she had no intentions of staying here and doing the right thing. we all know she wanted to go back to London with you so, where is she?"

Calliope shrinks back as Mycroft thunders on,

"are you hiding her?"

She can only shake her head as he starts to search, ransacking her room with an almost scary amount of energy. from scattered picture frames, to discarded bed covers no stone is left unturned. Even Calliope's suitcase is tipped out and her belongings searched.

Amidst all of this Calliope had pushed herself so far back that she was merely a shadow in the corner.

And she could only beg to whatever gods might exist that she might remain invisible when Myrcoft's wrath turns on her once more.

"Heaven knows where my mother found you, what kind of charity case she felt like working on but i will not pretend to understand it and you are no longer welcome in this- in my house when you are harbouring my ward-"

"Mycroft." Just as his voice begins to raise again the smooth, even timbre of Sherlock's voice cuts through the room.

"Leave the lady be. Enola isn't with her."

"But- how do you-?" Mycroft sputters, his face still burning red with anger as he looks desperately between Calliope and his brother.

"Enola isn't with her." is all Sherlock offers, firm and final.

Calliope can't help the sigh of relief that leaves her lips when Mycroft steps backwards, out of her space and begins to straighten his jacket. And her shoulders actually slump, dropping with the weight of her relief as he and the headteacher finally file out of her room.