The void beckoned him to enter.  A step forward into the darkness was like a plunge into deeper waters.  It was cold and unwelcoming at first...but as his body grew acclimated, it became strangely comforting.  Here, the breeze was not so strong and Vincent was left in an eerie silence.  The abyss seductively dared him to keep walking; he obeyed.

The ground beneath Vincent’s feet was no longer hardwood, but stone.  It was smooth, but covered in a thin layer of dust.  It gritted beneath his shoes as he walked.  He moved slowly and cautiously, as he could not even see the hands in front of his face.  As it were, his caution was well merited: before long, the floor ended and dropped down an unknown distance.  At this point, the light from the library was completely gone.  If he hadn’t been more careful, he would have easily fallen.

Despite the unspoken disdain of the darkness, Vincent brought forth illumination.  Conjuring a flame, light was allowed to shine where it had not in many, many ages.  It took a moment for his eyes to adjust.  He was in a narrow passage.  He had walked well beyond where he had entered behind the grandfather clock.  He could make out its back blocking the majority of the entryway.  Compared to the halls of Cairnbridge Manor, the passage was quite cramped--though for a man of his small stature, it was still colossal.  Susanna and Rebecca, however, would not have had much room to maneuver.

Vincent looked down from the edge to see more ground below.  It went on for a short distance before dropping down again.  He could not see more than that, but it was clear to him that this was a stairway.  Where it led was still an enigma, but he was determined to find out.  Rather than flying to the bottom, he decided upon a more cautious approach.  Taking a leap from the top stair, Vincent guided and slowed his fall, landing on the next step with a soft thud.  He continued on with the next one, and the next, and the next.  

Each stair turned to the right, descending in a tight downward spiral.  Vincent did not know how much time had passed in his journey down the stone staircase.  A few minutes?  An hour?  He also did not know how far below the library he had descended.  Perhaps he had journeyed down to the very depths of Hades itself.  Or maybe he was just in the cellar.  It was difficult to discern.  

When he had reached the final step, the passage had opened up into a much greater room.  It was not nearly the size of the dining hall or even the library, but was slightly bigger than one of the manor’s bedrooms.  

In order to further his investigation, Vincent allowed himself to risk a little more light.  He was a little uneasy at the sight of several cobwebs around the room.  Cobwebs were generally signs of their arachnid occupants.  Vincent did not like spiders...at all.  Upon inspection, it appeared that these had been abandoned for quite some time.  That, of course, did not deter him from casually lobbing a ball of flame in the direction of each and every web he saw.  The fires quickly consumed them.  Better safe than sorry, he thought.

There were a few pieces of furniture in the room, though they were markedly different than that which filled the rest of the manor.  The furnishings were much older and from a different era.  Compared to the more ornate, elegant decor elsewhere in the estate, these were simpler and more basic.  They obviously served a more utilitarian nature than an aesthetic one.  A wooden desk stood against one of the stone walls.  Next to it stood a tall shelf not too different from the ones upstairs, though it held no books (to Vincent’s disappointment.)  Instead, it held several glass containers and odd trinkets and other unknown equipment unlike any other Vincent had seen.  Perhaps one of the sisters could determine their uses, but Vincent was clueless.  

Apart from a small corner table, a bench, and a simple chair, the room was otherwise spartan and bare.

Vincent lept into the air and flew to the desk, as it was the most prominent feature in the room, but also because he found that a candlestick was resting upon it.  He lit the three half-melted candles and extinguished his own flame.  This allowed him more illumination as well as more freedom to go around without risking accidentally torching the whole place.

The extra light revealed the only decoration in the entire room: a portrait of a woman.  It hung above the desk and did not take up much space on the wall.  The painting itself was not elaborate.  It barely would have qualified as a work of art, not much more than a rudimentary sketch.  Still, the woman in the painting appeared to be young and beautiful.  Her visage was irenic and her eyes looked out with a calm gaze.  Her clothes appeared plain, but she was nonetheless alluring.  Vincent studied the portrait for several seconds before continuing on.  It evoked feelings of wonder.  Who was this woman?  Did she live here once?  Why was her painting hanging in a hidden room underneath the library?!  

There were still many questions without any real hope of finding any answers...except, perhaps, the book that was resting on the desk right next to him.

“Well, well…” Vincent whispered aloud.  He walked around the aged book, examining it with curiosity.  

The cover was old and worn.  The bound leather showed signs of use, appearing to have been read and handled many times before.  On the desk beside the book was the long feather of a bird resting in a small bottle.  A dark liquid has once filled the container, but it had long since dried up.  Vincent was unsure as to its purpose and assumed it was just another decoration.

Opening the book was going to prove a little difficult for Vincent, as the cover was surprisingly heavy and he was just too short to move it anywhere even if he could lift it.  Now was an opportunity to use one of his new abilities!  Extending his arm with his palm upwards, Vincent slowly raised his hand.  The book’s cover moved with it.  Very slowly, it opened and its pages were revealed.  

A smug smile of satisfaction was upon Vincent’s face.  “Easy peasy.”

Walking upon the pages of the book, Vincent took note of the markings on its yellowed parchment.  Every page was filled with scrawlings.  These were different from the typed letters of the library’s books.  They appeared to be done by hand.  (Vincent was clever enough to make the connection that the feather was used as a writing instrument.  The poor bird, though!)  

“You know, I really wish Susanna would teach me how to read,” he sighed.

The letters were unintelligible to Vincent.  They might as well have been random scratchings and doodles for all he knew.  It was frustrating.  He felt like had uncovered a treasure chest but didn’t have the key.

“Maybe Susanna or Rebecca can decipher these words…” he thought, scratching his head.  

Vincent was about continue his reconnaissance when he was interrupted by the unexpected call of his name.  

“Vincent!”  

A voice called out in the distance and darkness, barely audible to Vincent’s ears.  It came from above:  “Vincent, are you in here?”

“Susanna!” he exclaimed.  “Great forest, how long have I been down here?  She must be looking for me!”

~+~+~

Vincent hurriedly extinguished the candlestick’s flames with a wave of his hand, then made a flying leap into the air.  Zooming through the room, he found his way to the stony, spiral staircase.  He was not going to bother climbing them the slow way, but would take full advantage of the ability of flight.  It took him a fraction of the time to ascend the stairs than it took him to descend.  Before long, he was back in the passage behind the grandfather clock.

“Vincent!  Vincent, where are you?” he heard Susanna call.

“Didn’t he say he was going to be in here?” This voice was Rebecca’s.  “I mean, where else would he be?  He loves this old library...but, does he even know how to read?”

“No, but he loves to look at the books.  He thinks they’re are magical.”

“Really?”

“He’s actually quite clever,” Susanna smiled as she recalled an earlier conversation.  “I told him that books contained stories and knowledge and anything else from the writer’s mind.  Some books are fantasies and adventures, others are biographies, some are collections of poetry, and so on.  Do you know what he said?  He said that they were ‘like him’...they take dreams and make them real.”

“Wow,” Rebecca remarked.  “I didn’t know Vincent could wax philosophical like that.”

“Don’t underestimate the little guy!  There’s more power and potential in him than you realize.  Now if only he weren’t so hard to find…,” Susanna said.  “Oh, I really hope he isn’t hurt!  What if a book fell on him?!”

“Oh, don’t worry, sister,” Rebecca assured.  “Vincent’s tougher than a book.  ‘Power and potential,’ right?”

Their conversation continued while Vincent remained hidden.  From beneath the clock, his view of the library was oddly framed.  He could see only Susanna and Rebecca’s lower legs as they walked around in search of him.  Four slipper-clad feet made their way around the room, stopping occasionally, before coming to the grandfather clock.  Each one of their house slippers was the size of a small boat compared to him.  He needed to be careful.  Vincent was never too afraid of being caught underfoot, but the girls were still unaware of his location and that made being on the floor more precarious.  

“Is it a little chilly in here to you?”

“A little.  My feet are freezing!”  

“Oh, I really hope the heat isn’t going out...” said Susanna.  “First day as manager of the estate and already I’m having problems!”

“We did hear that loud grinding noise.  Do you think that was the furnace?”

“I don’t think so, but who knows?  This house is ancient.  I’m not even sure where the furnace is.  There are probably more rooms in Cairnbridge Manor than we know.  If Vincent’s out exploring, it might be a while before we see him again.  There is a lot of territory to discover.”

Vincent decided that now was likely the best time to come out from his hideout.  He didn’t want Susanna to worry.  However, he didn’t want to startle her...much.  

 A mischievous grin overtook Vincen’ts face.

“Susanna’s not the only one who can pull pranks,” Vincent whispered deviously.  “The opportunity is ripe...but what should I do?”

The sight of the quill was still in his memory.  Something like that would be perfect for his plans!  Vincent closed his eyes and within an instant, a small feather appeared in his hands.  He ran its fibers through his fingers, twirling it about, then smiled.  

Vincent’s intentions would be too dangerous if he were to leave the safety of the grandfather clock.  He would need to remain at a distance.  Levitating the feather in the air, he sent it out from his hiding spot...and directly next to Susanna’s left foot.  Her slipper left much of her skin exposed.  The sensitive flesh was vulnerable.  It would quickly take notice of something soft and delicate brushing itself along the arch of her foot…

“Ah!!  Ah-hahaha!  What in the world--?!”

Susanna went into a panic as soon as she felt something tickling her feet.  Her first fear was that it was a mouse or some other small rodent.  She took several quick steps back, scanning the ground for the offending creature.  Rebecca was naturally quite confused, but could sense from her sister’s reaction that something small was making its way around the floor.

“There it is!” Rebecca exclaimed.

Vincent guided the feather around the room, chasing Susanna and Rebecca around, tickling their feet wherever they went.  They leapt and danced about in a frenzy.  The sounds of their frightened giggles and yelps and shrieks echoed throughout the library.  They could not escape it, nor could they catch it before it eluded their grasp.

“Is that a feather?”

“It won’t stop tickling me.  It’s torture!”  

“Stop it!  Stop it!”

“Is it a ghost?  Is Cairnbridge haunted?”

In the very next moment, both sisters understood exactly what was happening.

“VINCENT!!”

The feather fell to the floor.  The sound of a very small man rolling on the floor with laughter quickly gave away Vincent’s location.  Susanna dropped down on her knees and peered underneath the clock.  Vincent did not stop laughing even as a great hand reached towards him, grabbing him and bringing him out into the light.

“Why, you little devil!”

The sisters were catching their breath.  Their faces did not portray amusement and looked down at Vincent with furrowed brows.  Vincent, of course, did not care.  He had found the whole escapade delightfully funny.

“I should have known from the beginning,” tsked Susanna.  “Are you satisfied with yourself, young man?”

The look of glee was the answer to her question.

Susanna shook her head and rolled her eyes.  By now, she and Vincent had exchanged their fair share of pranks--probably unevenly so from her.  If he could be tolerant of her antics, she could be forgiving when it came to his.  

Rebecca, on the other hand, never enjoyed being on the receiving end of a joke or shenanigan.  While Susanna had calmed down quickly, her baby sister was still visibly upset.  Her face was as red and her blood as fiery as the curls of her hair.  

“Hand me over to me!  We’ll see if the little jester is ticklish himself!  Where did that feather go?”

Rebecca scanned the floor for a couple seconds, but couldn’t find it.  Annoyed, she lunged for Susanna and attempted to grab Vincent out of her hands.  Susanna, of course, resisted.  She quickly cupped her other hand around him and raised him away from Rebecca’s reach.

“Give him here!”

“No!” Susanna said firmly.  

The sisters wrestled for a moment, neither choosing to relent.  Susanna was only two inches taller than Rebecca, but in times like this, it worked to her advantage.  

“Rebecca, what’s gotten into you?  It was just a harmless little joke.  Leave him be.”

Rebecca huffed and crossed her arms.  “I hate being tickled!  You know that!”

“Yes...but Vincent didn’t, did he?  Calm down.”

Rebecca resented her sister’s logic and reason.  Of course, she knew Susanna was right, though she would never admit it.  Vincent hadn’t known any better and he wasn’t being malicious.  Still, Rebecca was always more driven by her emotions than her older sister and in this moment, she just wanted to be upset. 

“Bec, if I recall, the last time Father tried tickling you, you kicked him square in the jaw!  Were you planning on doing the same to Vincent?”

“No…,” she said sheepishly.  “I just wanted to give him a dose of his own medicine!  Just a little tickling back.  That’s all!”

“But Rebecca, you could have hurt him!  He’s much smaller than you, remember?”

To this, Vincent had to interject.  From within Susanna’s cupped palms, a voice cried out: “Now, listen here!”

“Oh Vincent, you know what I mean,” Susanna said, taking her hand away.

“I don’t need you to protect me!  I can protect myself.  Especially from Rebecca!  I’m not afraid of her, she’s just a little girl!”

“A little girl?!” exclaimed an offended Rebecca.  “I am eighteen years old!  I am a woman!  And who are you to call ‘little?’”

Riled up again, Rebecca lunged for Vincent once more.  This time, however, Susanna did not have time to close her hands.  Instead, Vincent leapt from her palm and into the air, dodging Rebecca’s grabbing fingers.  She went after him, grasping at him in the air over and over to no avail, which only heightened her frustration.

“Pbbbttt!”  Vincent blew a raspberry in Rebecca’s face, infuriating her even further.

“Vincent, you are not helping the situation!” Susanna cried out.

The quarreling duo went around the room in their struggle, from bookcase to bookcase, over the sofa and reading chairs, while Susanna helplessly looked on.  At one point, Rebecca finally managed to grab Vincent.  As she was considering what she was going to do now that she had caught him, she let out a shriek.  He had bit her!  Vincent’s teeth could never have broken the skin, but the prick had caught her unexpectedly.  

Seizing the escape opportunity, Vincent dove out Rebecca’s hands and flew down close to the floor.  She bent over trying to catch him again, but he flew between her legs.  Before she could stand up and turn around, Vincent had positioned himself right behind her ample, vulnerable derriere.  He reeled back, then let out a swift kick to her buttocks as hard as he could!  His foot landed in her flesh, but the impact barely registered.  He was about to go in for another hit, but was interrupted by a stern voice.

“The two of you stop it...NOW!”

Susanna was exasperated.  She had had enough.  Marching over to the two miscreants, she pinched Vincent out of the air while he was busy laughing at Rebecca, then placed a firm hand on her sister, keeping her an arm’s distance away.  The tone of her voice made it clear that Susanna was quite serious.  Neither Rebecca nor Vincent dared to challenge her.  All it took was that one sentence to instill in both of them a feeling of utter shame.

After several moments of silence, Susanna finally spoke up: “Are you finished?”

They nodded repentantly.

“Good.  Now, apologize to each other.”

Upon Susanna’s prodding, both confessed all that they had done wrong and exchanged apologies.

“Great!  Well, I’m ready to continue on with our day, so why don’t you two hug and we’ll call this matter settled?”

The two looked at Susanna with puzzled expressions, checking to see if she was serious.  Her eyes affirmed that she was.  With hesitance, Vincent flew towards Rebecca and she gingerly placed her hands on his back.  Despite the awkwardness, Rebecca slowly drew him closer to her chest, which he embraced with his outstretched arms.  As soon as the minimum amount of time had elapsed, they parted to a good distance.

Susanna smiled with approval.  

“Very good.  Now...Vincent, why don’t you explain to Rebecca and I exactly what you were doing in the library?”