Disappointed in her rejection by the arcane Society of Seekers, witch's foundling Sally Founder resigns herself to life as the companion of Lady Bellingham. Secretly the Host to the disembodied spirit of Samdriel, she yearns for more. Her wish is unfortunately granted after a chance encounter with evil at a London ball forces Sally and Samdriel upon a path that could lead to the discovery of their mystical bond.
Having to deal with guests at Briarstone Manor suffering from their own tragedies and a scarred young man seeking revenge, the pair have their hands full. While werewolves prowl the estate's borders, the young woman must find a way to protect her secret and her loved ones. As a bloodthirsty enemy looms in the darkness, Sally learns that secrets can be like a cage. The cost of her freedom could lead to the destruction of everything—including her heart.
Disappointed in her rejection by the arcane Society of Seekers, witch's foundling Sally Founder resigns herself to life as the companion of Lady Bellingham. Secretly the Host to the disembodied spirit of Samdriel, she yearns for more. Her wish is unfortunately granted after a chance encounter with evil at a London ball forces Sally and Samdriel upon a path that could lead to the discovery of their mystical bond.
Having to deal with guests at Briarstone Manor suffering from their own tragedies and a scarred young man seeking revenge, the pair have their hands full. While werewolves prowl the estate's borders, the young woman must find a way to protect her secret and her loved ones. As a bloodthirsty enemy looms in the darkness, Sally learns that secrets can be like a cage. The cost of her freedom could lead to the destruction of everything—including her heart.
T he music and the colourful swirling gowns filled the room
and surrounded me with a cloud of warmth. Perhaps, my
warmth stemmed from the thought that Lady Haverlane’s
soiree was the last event before returning to our home in the
country. Standing as a singular wallflower during the dance, it
took a focused effort to permit myself to enjoy my surroundings.
Considering the day’s disappointments, I was surprised it required
as little effort as it did.
“You’ve given up, Sally,” Samdriel whispered in my mind.
“Daisy leaving to marry that young man set you a little adrift. And
when you could not make contact with Miss MacGregor and Mr.
Dahlrimple, you find yourself at a loss. Give yourself some time.”
Sighing, I stepped further behind the pillar that stood at the
end of the ballroom. For a disembodied Nephilim spirit, Samdriel’s
counsel had guided me through many troubling periods of my life;
his experience born from sharing his life with a multitude of Hosts
across the centuries. I knew him to be wise, but his advice did not
entirely dispel the ennui that had settled on me since I had waved
goodbye to Daisy and her new husband from the church.
1
I had felt strangely unfocussed afterwards. I knew that Daisy
had never seen me as much of a friend as I had seen her. Regardless
of my behaviour, her background as an abused servant and my
station had never entirely bridged her reticence. In the end, leaving
servitude had been like an escape for Daisy.
“Four years, Samdriel,” I responded silently, “It has been four
years since the events around Alphonse’s ghost and the Blood
Walker. To prove myself fit to join the Society of Seekers, I have
been trying to convince Mama Grace and Lady Bellingham I am
no longer plagued by the mysterious illness they have ascribed
to me. My correspondence with Miss MacGregor and Mr.
Dahlrimple has been unanswered for at least thirteen months, and
no one at the Society’s headquarters would answer my inquiries.”
“Sally-.”
“Actually, it’s for the best. Two months in London and I feel
so homesick for the fresh country air of Briarstone, I can barely
wait until morning. However, for Lady Bellingham’s sake, I am
determined to appreciate this party before I return to my role of
lady’s companion.”
“Lady Bellingham regards you as more than a mere
companion,” Samdriel chided, “Did she not introduce you as her
ward?”
Gazing across the room, I spotted Lady Bellingham conversing
with an older gentleman. In her dress of lilac and cream, she
sparkled in the candlelight, her graceful elegance and gifted
intelligence drawing admiration from all around her. She was
in her element, moving amongst these glittering crowds. Why
she isolated herself at Briarstone flummoxed (to use one of Mr.
Dahlrimple’s terms) me to the point the only explanation I could
conjure was that I was the reason.
For me, London had beautiful museums and theatres, lovely
shops and immeasurable other diversions. Still, society here was
much the same as home. Had I not been so stonewalled at the
Society of Seekers headquarters, I may have been able to enjoy the
Alison Williams
2
current circumstances with its music and candlelight. Releasing
the dream of becoming an agent for the Society had left only a
sensation of calm in its wake.
“It is not calm you feel but resignation, Sally,” Samdriel
inserted, “Come, I hear a language I have not heard for centuries.
It is decidedly peculiar to find its speakers so far from home. Let
me translate for you.”
“I do not need to be distracted, Samdriel,” I silently retorted,
“I am doing well-enough to-.” Despite my lack of interest in
eavesdropping on foreign strangers, Samdriel expanded my
sense of hearing. A sigh, a rushing of wind and the softening of
everything around me yielded to the deep intonations of the pair
of men on the opposite side of the pillar by which I stood. Almost,
unwittingly, I took a small step forward to secretly observe them
around the curve of the column.
“Do you have all you need for the arrival of the Blessed One?”
asked a man with fair hair. Though he was not notably tall, he
presented a figure of powerful energy. However, he was noticeably
outranked by his companion. That particular gentleman seemed
to cling to the shadows on his side of the column. He rested
casually against it, pausing to swirl his dark, red wine in its crystal
glass, drinking deeply before deigning to answer.
“Things are progressing as we speak. Were it not for the
interference of those ….” He ceased his speech for a moment to
make a low sound within his throat that resembled a growl. “No
matter. The loss of my brother only delays, it does not prevent
our mission. We are beset on many sides since the escape of the
creature. The Blessed One has been thwarted on that account for
some time I believe. Eh, Gregor?”
The other man stiffened slightly. “The Blessed One has
struggled far longer than any of us in our holy mission -.”
“Then a few more months will not be significant, will it?”
the larger, more menacing man interrupted. He clapped a hand
on the shoulder of his associate in a manner that lacked any sense
The Secret Cage
3
of comradeship. “You worry too much, Gregor. All will proceed
according to plan. We have been most discreet while following the
instructions we were given. Now, come, let us leave this parade of
sheep. I had thought this distraction might prove interesting but
these weaklings are not even worthy of our disgust. They are only
good for one thing, eh?”
At those words, the tall, dark man shifted his stance and
Gregor, as he was named, caught sight of me but two feet away.
An instinctive tremor of fear ran through me as his eyes narrowed
in a suspicious glare. His companion turned, following his gaze,
and froze me to the spot with mesmerizing eyes that were a
shining, bottomless black. Only at Samdriel’s prodding was I
capable of dropping my eyes submissively and simpering, “Good
evening, gentlemen. M-Might I assume by your language ... you
are foreigners?”
The dark man was handsome in a strangely threatening way
and bowed his head in a gesture of smooth courtesy. “Yes, miss,”
he replied with a sharp-toothed grin, “We are from the Balkans.
You have heard of them, yes?”
“I-I think so. Aren’t they near Spain?” I continued in a tone
of ignorant naiveté to which he smirked condescendingly. His
partner snorted in derision.
“No, miss, they are not.” The tall man bowed again and with
a grip not to be resisted took hold of my limp hand and brought
it to his lips. Yet instead of kissing it as I had expected he inhaled
deeply. Then standing erect, he once more showed me his sharptoothed
smile. “It is always good to know such innocence as yours
is still to be found in the world. Alas, it is a state that is quite
fleeting. Good evening, miss.” With those words, the pair stalked
from the room, the crowds making way for them with unconscious
deference.
“Samdriel, wh-what ... do you have any idea what they were
describing ... or who they are?” I whispered as I wrung my hands.
Alison Williams
4
The spot where the strange man had collected my scent, (I could
think of no other phrase), had a bizarre burning sensation.
“I cannot say for certain,” came his reply, “I sensed their
presence as soon as we arrived for an aura of danger and violence
exuded from them. Their language was from a remote area in
the Carpathians; a rather old form too. I wonder ... Sally, did he
scratch you?”
“What?”
“Did he mark you somehow?” A distinct note of concern
permeated his voice.
“I don’t ... I …” I looked down at my hand. There was a small
tear in my glove, barely visible, on the side of my thumb. The
shape of a crescent moon, or the edge of a sharp nail. The burning
sensation was increasing.
There was no opportunity to discuss the situation further
as Lady Bellingham suddenly appeared at my side. “Salome, my
dear, I thought I should introduce you to a cherished acquaintance
of mine. It was such luck to find him here. Professor, this is my
ward ... Salome, whatever is the matter? You look ill.”
I could not recall what followed clearly for I indeed felt
ill. A haze fell over my eyes, the strength left my limbs, Lady
Bellingham’s voice grew more concerned even as it faded into the
distance. The room began to swirl and tilt like the dancers. My
vision clouded and faded, my last odd, coherent thought was of
the words, “creature” and “escape”.
***
Three days later, I was walking to Mama Grace’s cottage, a brown
paper-wrapped parcel under my arm and enjoying the fresh
country air. My strange spell had disappeared by the following day
with no lingering effects. Her ladyship accredited the attentions
of the older gentleman she had introduced me to just as I had
fainted. The professor excused himself with a kind smile when he
The Secret Cage
5
accepted that I had recovered. Neither he nor Lady Bellingham
mentioned the methods he had used in my recovery. However, by
the time we returned to Briarstone, her ladyship was overwhelmed
with illness. To soothe her cold, I eagerly volunteered to fetch some
special tisane from Mama Grace and deliver the gift clutched
under my arm. The perplexing incident had increased the odd
dreams about another Host’s life that I had repeatedly experienced
since the traumatic exorcism of Behrion from Janet Cranwell four
years ago. The dreams possessed an intensity beyond the usual
and had distracted me enough not to press Samdriel to answer my
questions about the incident at the party.
Taking the familiar route through the cemetery that held
the Bellingham crypt, I paused by the family tomb and said a
prayer for Alphonse and Eugenia’s spirits, praying their rest was
undisturbed since the ceremony four years ago.
My solemn duty complete, I was stepping through the gate
to the lane outside the cemetery when a black broughman halted
nearby. Due to the age of the cemetery, it held generations of
people within its confines so that mourners unrelated to the
Bellinghams occasionally stopped by to pay their respects. Not
wishing to impose on the unknown visitors I walked past the
broughman in silence.
“Well, bless my soul, if it isn’t little Sally Founder! Aren’t you
all grown up?”
I turned to face a memory I had long ago packaged up in
a small box and pushed to the back of my mind. A young man
exited the carriage, closing the door with a snap as he did so. My
heart was in my throat as I regarded a grown Robbie Renfield, his
smile like a scimitar and just as appealing. He was smartly dressed
in a dark overcoat and top hat with a rich red cravat at his throat.
He held his arms out to invite my inspection of his elevated
estate. As an adult, Robbie’s boyhood vigor seemed to have left
him and though his clothes were of quality, they did not disguise
his thin frame and scrawny neck. He had the appearance of being
Alison Williams
6
famished as he looked me over from shoe to bonnet, the disdain
apparent in his watery blue eyes. He crossed his arms over his chest
and looked down at me.
“As you see, even Lady Bellingham could not prevent my
rise to bigger and better things. I am quite the gentleman now.
Quite so.”
The sound of rushing water was filling my ears so that I could
barely hear his words and I clutched my parcel as I had once
clung to the rock in the river as a child. I might never have found
my voice if Samdriel had not loosened the bounds of shock that
imprisoned it.
“Why are you here?” I could not yet bring myself to use his
name.
“Oh, I am representing a very distinguished visitor to this
area. Very distinguished. They fancy purchasing some property
in the neighborhood, especially after hearing my description of
my childhood home.”
“You have been gone a very long time. Many things have
changed.”
His smile sharpened. “I can see. Lady Bellingham has been
rather generous with her charity. After all, it was by her ladyship’s
charity that I was sent away to work. Such an unparalleled
opportunity! Laboring in an office; fetching and carrying and
sweeping, sleeping on a cot in a closet. Enormously character
building.” He stepped in close to me, and I could see the waxy
texture of his skin as his stalk-like figure bent forward. “Of course,
I had plenty of time to think of my future beyond that situation.
You see Sally, I discovered that having a purpose is a wonderful
promoter of ambition. It helped me to realize all that I wanted
out of life.”
“I shall inform Lady Bellingham how you have profited by the
“unparalleled opportunity”.”
“I shouldn’t bother if I were you,” he grated suddenly, “I have
achieved everything I have in spite of her ladyship or you! I’ll not
The Secret Cage
7
have you spreading false rumours about me again.” He emphasized
his point by abruptly grabbing my arm in a fierce grip. I barely felt
it, so outraged was I by his insinuation.
“What rumors do you speak of, Robbie?” I snapped in return,
“How was it false to inform my guardians how you tried to murder
me? Or when you and your drunken friends attacked our cottage?”
He let go of me as though he had been scalded, surprised that I
was not quavering before his presence. His face took on a petulant
expression that strengthened my disgust.
“Murder? How overly dramatic you are! It was simply a joke.
A jest that went awry.”
“If it was only a jest, then why did you not seek help? Why did
you leave me in the river?”
He shrugged and brushed away imaginary dust from his fine,
dark jacket. ‘Who’s to say we didn’t? To be honest, at the time,
who would have cared about the fate of a bastard foundling child.
You did not have the interest of a wealthy aristocrat then, did you?”
In a nutshell, Robbie had pointed out a truth that had followed
me throughout my life since the day I had arrived at Briarstone.
In the eyes of people like Robbie, I would always be that child
left on a witch’s doorstep, born in circumstances of shame and
degradation. The only worth granted me was that bestowed by
my association with Lady Bellingham.
“You may have the appearance of a gentleman in your fine
clothes, Robbie Renfield,” I stated heatedly, “But you will always
be the selfish little bully you were as a boy!” I spun around and
sped away from his odious presence, grasping my parcel so tightly
the paper tore under my hands. He was only temporarily stunned
to silence, then I heard his bitter laughter behind me and the old
chant, “Little Sally Founder! Her mother never loved her.” Increasing
my pace, I fled beyond the shadow of his words, grateful I would
not have to face him ever again.
***
Alison Williams
8
My composure was grudgingly restored when I reached the haven
of Mama Grace’s cottage.
“That wretch has a distinctively different memory of what he
did to me than I do,” I grumbled as I passed through the gate in
front of the cottage yard.
“You needn’t be afraid any longer, Sally,” Samdriel responded
stoutly.
“I am not afraid,” I grumbled and knocked on the front door.
I was greeted by the cheerful face of Mama Grace’s apprentice,
Dolly, framed by stray waves of auburn hair that had escaped
her bun.
“Oh, Miss Sally, we didn’t hear you roll up – Goodness! Did
you walk here? All the way from Briarstone?”
I smiled at her tone. “There’s nothing to be concerned about,
Dolly. I enjoy walking,” I responded as I entered. Not too long
ago, I would have rushed in without knocking. I could not recall
when that habit had changed.
The warmth of the familiar interior had a restorative effect on
my agitated nerves, and I stepped quickly to Mama Grace’s side as
she sat by the fireplace. She accepted my embrace, and I inhaled
the light scent of violets that hovered around her. I glanced at
the small cloth-covered table beside her to see that she had been
reading her tarot cards.
“Reading your cards without a client?” I teased, “Did you not
tell me that was a most boring exercise?”
“Well, an old woman sometimes indulges in whimsy,” she
responded and draped a kerchief over the spread of cards. She
motioned me to take the faded chair opposite her. “Dolly, make
us a spot of tea, will you?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
As Dolly set about her task, Mama Grace leaned close to me.
“Now, my dear, tell me what has happened to upset you.” I could
only gape at her, eliciting a wry chuckle. “You should not try to
hide anything from this old witch, my girl. I felt something was
The Secret Cage
9
amiss the moment I embraced you. Tell me.” It was a relief to
open my heart to her, not only about my encounter with Robbie
Renfield.
Working my way backwards, beginning with Robbie, I
finished with the particular event that prompted my wish to visit
her so soon after returning from London. Mama Grace sat silently
throughout, allowing me to convey the story for which I sought
her counsel.
I recounted the tale in an abridged form to Mama Grace and
Dolly while I sat with them sipping our tea; omitting the fact the
men had spoken in a foreign language and my illness being in
reaction to the mark left on my hand. The mark was gone by the
next morning, yet I had found myself more disturbed by the vague
answers I received from Samdriel and for Lady Bellingham’s health
than any unease for my own well-being. In any case, it promoted
my decision to visit Mama Grace as soon as possible. With the gift
I had bought her tucked under my arm, I had the necessary excuse.
“Well, well, well, Robbie Renfield has returned; working for
some strange benefactor no less,” Mama Grace mused at the end
of my tale. “I shall keep an eye on him, my dearest; he will not
dare to approach you again, if he knows what’s good for him. I
am much more concerned about this spell of yours. Fainting is
not like you at all.”
“It came on me quite suddenly. I have never felt so before,” I
answered innocently, “Do you have any idea what medicines Lady
Bellingham’s friend may have used?”
Mama Grace shrugged. “Oh, I haven’t the slightest idea.
Though perhaps I shall speak with Veronica about it. You appear
right as rain at the moment.”
“I feel entirely hale and hearty. So much so that I had no
difficulty walking here, despite my encounter with Robbie.
Indeed, Lady Bellingham could use some of your medicine as she
has developed a cold.”
Mama Grace paused to stare at me for a few moments.
Alison Williams
10
“You have felt no ill effects at all, no dizziness or off-temper?”
she inquired as she absent-mindedly tapped the cards on the table
beside her.
“N-no. As I said.”
She signaled to Dolly, where she sat nearby. “Dolly, put
together a small package of the tisane mixture from the jar with
the red flower on it. I customarily send that to her ladyship when
she is under the weather. You should take some too, Sally. It will
settle your nerves.”
“My nerves are not unsettled,” I protested.
“Nevertheless, it is better to be safe.”
Sighing, I recognized her behaviour stemmed from the
mysterious illness she and Lady Bellingham thought plagued me. It
annoyed me endlessly that the slightest infringement on my health
and Mama Grace would ply me with endless tisanes and tinctures.
No matter how I attested to my fitness, they remained convinced
I laboured under some sort of frailty. Short of revealing Samdriel
to them, I had run out of ideas to convince them otherwise.
I accepted the envelope of tisane from Dolly and shortly
thereafter found myself back on the path to Briarstone. The
package I had brought, a shawl with pink primroses, had been
received with a muttered, “How impractical,” amidst further
admonitions to take care of myself.
“Honestly, will they never believe in my health? Sometimes
it’s as if they expect me to collapse at any moment,” I complained
as I kicked a stone along the path.
“Mama Grace’s current concern may actually have little to do
with excessive maternal care, Sally,” Samdriel remarked softly, “I
caught a glimpse of the cards of the reading she was engaged in.
It was ... foreboding.”
His words stopped the tumbling complaints of my thoughts.
My odd illness in London and the vivid dreams that had increased
in their intimacy were brought into stark comparison to Mama
Grace’s reading of the signs.
The Secret Cage
11
I mumbled, “I ... I’ll come back to see her again in a couple
of days.”
“Very considerate.”
“All this way to give her that gift and hopefully gain some
answers, and I was frustrated on both counts,” I complained as
I continued my walk. “You also promised me answers, Samdriel.
Do not think I have forgotten how you asked me if that strange
man had “marked” me? What did you mean by that question?”
“Please understand, Sally, I only wanted to protect you from
being overly concerned.”
“Samdriel, I’ve waited long enough for answers,” I insisted
forcefully. He sighed ruefully.
“They were not true men at all, Sally. They were werewolves.”
Birds sprung up from the trees at the sound of my shocked cry.
It has been four years since Sally Founder had to go up against a Blood Walker. Still disappointed at being rejected as a proper candidate to join the Society of Seekers, she has spent her days as companion to her benefactress, Lady Bellingham. Though she holds Lady Bellingham dear to her heard and still has the companionship of Samdriel, the disembodied Nephilim spirit she is Host to, Sally feels her life is gravely unfulfilled. In The Secret Cage, however, Salome will find herself embroiled in yet another battle against evil. Vampires, werewolves, scientists trying to upset the balance of life and death – Sally will go up against new enemies and old adversaries alike as she strives once again to save not only Briarstone and the people she loves from harm, but also save herself from heartbreak, as well.
The Secret Cage is a wonderfully exciting follow up to The Witch’s Foundling. Salome Founder has made her way up the list of some of my favorite literary heroines. Alison Williams has also managed to put some new energy into the werewolf and vampire tropes that have been so common in science fiction and fantasy books the last few years. While the classic vampire tale akin to Twilight or Vampire Academy is addictive in its own way, I quite liked how Williams made the supernatural both a vital component of the story, but also highlighted some historical attitudes and superstitions that would have been common to the era, as well. I also quite enjoy that while surrounded by supernatural creatures, magic and dangers, Sally, herself, is a very human protagonist.
Sally has felt shunned by most of society her entire life. Her social anxieties are just as present in The Secret Case as they were in The Witch’s Foundling. While her years at Briarstone as Lady Bellingham’s ward have helped renew her hope that not everyone will think the worst of her for being raised by the local hedge witch, she still faces prejudices, loneliness, and isolation in her everyday life. Despite the social stigmas that have plagued her throughout her life, Sally has lived a relatively “sheltered” life in that she has not had many chances to see new places or encounter new kinds of people. In many ways, she still came off as a young, teenage girl, even though she would now be entering her twenties and seen as an adult by society at large. On the other hand, she has been through things that most would be crippled by and still does not blink in the face of danger or suffering if it means she can protect Mama Grace, Lady Bellingham and Briarstone. She has sound morals and convictions that make her one of my favorite protagonists that I have met in a long time.
I recommend The Secret Cage and The Witch’s Foundling to fans of YA Fantasy, Historical Fantasy and readers who love vampires, werewolves and everything magic.