#Anesidora. free#

Her breath fogged the highly polished wood of the desk. A whiff of something like burnt grass or bread wafted past but she barely noticed except to absently note it. She braced her hands against the desk and leaned in very close, brows knitting further as she looked for the catch or lock or anything that proved that it could be opened. Her eyes passed over the dark wood, trying and failing to find any seams. 'Dora bent down and studied the little box. He'd also said that some of the crickets were quite large - as long as the first finger on one of his big hands! She couldn't imagine such a thing, but if the box held such a creature she definitely wanted to see it. He'd said that in some of the ports he'd been to that people kept them in small cages. What *was* causing that noise? Crickets, maybe? She had heard of keeping crickets for luck from her father. The darker hallway behind it held only the bottom of the stairs she had just come down and the small table that held the tray for mail.

She glanced up and back, to see if her parents were at the door watching.

But in that barren cube around it, nothing happened.Ī small frisson of fear touched the base of her spine then. Her hand caused all kinds of fluctuations in the dust outside the zone around the box. Nothing else would cause that strange lack of morning lit dust. She didn't know what would cause such a thing, but that was the only explanation that would make sense. She reached up to see if she could feel any wind coming from the box.

#Anesidora. free#

The edges of the dust free zone looked like it was a foot away from the box. She cocked her head to the side and moved forward again. A soft chirruping noise seemed to be emitting from it.ĭust motes danced in the sun as 'Dora took another step closer, her movement causing them to whirl and jig. A small copper and silver antenna jutted up about 2 inches from the top middle. It was covered in carved whorling patterns, each filled with what appeared to be copper to her eyes. Whatever wood it was made of gleamed darkly in the morning sun slanting through the window shears. The box was small, maybe 4 inches on each side. Usually, it was something that they could talk about and maybe look into his books to see if they could learn more. He was a merchant working for the East India Trading Company and was always bringing her little trinkets from his travel. A small surprise from his latest journey. Father had said he'd left a gift for her to find downstairs. Her brow furrowed and she took a small step closer. Nine year old 'Dora stared at the little box on the parlor desk.