Tesh disappeared over the threshold, leaving Brin on the doorstep, terrified.
She stared after him into the darkness. It looked like a pit, a tunnel into some horrible void. Tesh was walking into a monster’s nest. She waited. And waited.
Brin felt as if she’d stood there a month, maybe two, and in all that time she never moved, didn’t breathe, and would have bet the year’s wheat crop that her heart never beat once. She held herself rigid, staring into the dark hole of the house, listening. Tesh was quiet and as nimble as a Fhrey. Still, she heard some sounds. A faint rustle, then the creak of a board.
More waiting.
No more sounds.
The quiet is good. I’d hear a struggle if he’s attacked…and yet…what if it grabbed him from behind? Raow are good at that. It could have him right now, that horrible hand on his mouth preventing him from making a sound.
Her heart was beating after all. How could she not have noticed the pounding in her chest?
I can’t just wait here.
She took a step across the threshold but halted when a light appeared inside. It floated toward the door. An instant later, she saw Tesh holding a candle on a little copper plate with a finger ring.
“Place is empty,” he said.
“Really?”
He nodded.
“Did you…did you go upstairs?”
He smirked. “Of course I went upstairs.”
“Did you find anything—well—anything unusual?”
He curled his finger for her to follow and led her inside.
“If you didn’t find anything, that’s fine. I don’t need to see. I believe you.”
“No, I think you should see for yourself. Trust me. There’s no danger. No one is here. Not Meryl, not a raow.”
Brin’s surge of courage was quickly draining away now that Tesh wasn’t having his face eaten. She didn’t want to go in; everything about that house was screaming for her to keep out. They were intruding, it was dark, and…there was a smell. Brin had no idea what it was, but it wasn’t nice. “Not really necessary.”
He was already halfway across the entryway, disappearing back into the dark, when she gave in and chased after him.
The home was, in many ways, like the one Brin was living in, although not quite as nice. The place was masculine, with less lace and more boots. Five pairs of high-top leathers were set near the door. She found no stenciling, vases, or wall hangings. The place was sparse. No knick-knacks, no plants. One thing did catch her eye: A beautiful harp stood in the far corner across from the fireplace. Formed of lacquered wood that was curved and carved, the thing was as much a piece of art as an instrument.
Tesh took her right to the stairs. Here the smell was stronger. The scent was rancid, like rotting meat. Tesh didn’t pull or coax. He merely waited, watching her with sympathetic eyes. He probably thought she was a terrible coward. He’d certainly had no trouble marching through the house. Why was she so terrified?
What part of “they eat people’s faces” didn’t you hear?
Tesh said the place was empty, but raow, like Fhrey, might just be very good at hiding.
Brin clenched her fists, set her jaw, and followed Tesh up the steps. As they reached the second story, Tesh held the candle high so she could see.
The whole upper floor was one big mound of bones.
Long, short, thick, and thin, some were white, others yellowed. There were so many—a huge pile. Brin stepped away from the banister and moved into the loft, carefully placing her feet on bare patches of floor.
This is it, she thought, spellbound. The pile.
Brin stood in the midst of the mound, overwhelmed at the sight. Every bone had once been part of a person. She saw arm and leg bones, wide paddle-shaped pelvises, racks of ribs, and skulls. How many has it killed? How many like me did it grab? How many screamed as it ate their faces?
Then she realized the bones weren’t just a pile. The arm bones were all together, each aligned in the same way. The same was true of the leg bones, and the feet and hands. Every part was carefully placed in some twisted design, right down to the ring of skulls with all the faces pointing out like watchmen.
That’s its bed. Those skulls keep it safe while it sleeps.
“Brin?” Tesh said.
She barely heard him. She stood frozen.
“Are you all right?”
Brin honestly didn’t know. She was crying, sobbing, tears running down her cheeks.
“I—” she started to say. Then she spotted the shawl.
The discarded wad of cloth lay on the floor, revealed by Tesh’s little candle. The wool was the traditional Rhen pattern of green, black, and blue, and Brin had no trouble recognizing the weaving work of her mother. She picked it up. “This is Seph’s shawl.”
Tesh picked up a shimmering blue-and-gold cloak. “This is Nyphron’s.”
“Meryl stole them.”
“Why?”
Brin’s eyes went wide. “Meryl isn’t going to use the raow to kill a bunch of people. He’s targeting specific ones. C’mon. We need to go.” Brin was already moving down the stairs. “I know why it’s not here, and I know where it’s going to be.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Through a Narrow Window