“Well, she certainly knows that her master is not an ordinary chap,” he answers, “and that the children who reside in this house are quite unusual.”
“She could join us,” I suggest, looking to Gabriel and Emily for support. “We would accept her, and she would be an equal. I think she could use a friend.”
“I think so too,” Emily says. “She’s all right, you know? We could’ve used a wolf against those monsters.”
“Darby cannot change at will,” Balthazar says wearily, as if he has stated it before. “Only on the full moon can she make the transformation.”
Darby comes back into the room bearing a tray with a ewer of water and glasses. She fills one and hands it to Emily, who gulps it down without pausing.
“Thank you,” she says. “I need water after I light up. If I don’t drink, it feels like I’m gonna burn to a crisp.”
And then she belches.
The color blooms in her cheeks. Darby almost laughs aloud, but quickly turns to leave.
“The rhyme,” Gabriel says, looking up from his book. “The one the ghoul spoke. It is the same one we heard from the boy in the alley.”
“‘Ring around the rosy, a pocketful of posies,’” I whisper.
“How would that thing know that?” Emily asks.
Balthazar turns to her. “That is what we must find out.”
The remainder of the day is spent quietly, each of us with our own thoughts. We are waiting for our next move, whatever it may be. I am beyond exhausted. Mother’s death, the ghoul in the cave—?it is all too much to bear.
But still, after everyone retires I spend a few minutes looking at some of the assorted books piled in the sitting room. Darkling, it called me. What does it mean?
Most of the tomes I find are of a fantastical nature: The Black Book of Signs, The Carved Deck, The Land and Its Terrors, A History of the Seelie and Unseelie Court, but nothing that mentions “darkling.”
I hear footsteps, and Emily creeps into the room. I thought she would be sleeping. “Oi,” she calls. “What are you doing slinking about?”
“I’m not slinking,” I answer. “I’m trying to find out more about this darkling business.”
She looks around as if she might find something of interest, but then sits at the table, props her elbows up, and rests her chin in her hands. I join her. I wonder what other evils she has seen, and if fighting ghouls is as disturbing to her as it is to me.
“Was this your first time?” I ask. “Seeing . . . something out of a nightmare?”
“No. I seen something before. It were awful.” She looks down at the table and then back up. “It were at Nowhere, right? Olly and Rags said there were a monster in the forest, but we couldn’t go out at night, see? But one night me and Gabbyshins snuck out.” A mischievous grin forms on her face.
“What did you see?” I ask her. “Did you find anything?”
“Yeah. We found it. We looked all around in the woods, and didn’t see nothing. I used my light to show the way. And right when we was headed back, I seen it.”
“What? What did you see?”
“A hellhound.”
“What is a hellhound?”
“A hound from Hell, innit?”
“I suppose so,” I say.
“Well, first it were a man, and then it turned into a dog,” Emily clarifies, as if that really helps. “It came after us, me and Gabbyshins. I had to . . . I had to kill it.”
Her face looks pained, and I stop the conversation there.
I’ve already had enough of monsters, and we’ve only just begun.
When I dream, it is of a long, endless tunnel. A billowing white mist writhes around my body. There is a sound like the screeching of birds, which rings in my ears so shrilly, I cover them with my hands. Somewhere within the darkness, two red flames burn and flicker.
Come to us, Jessamine. I hear the voices call. Come, darkling.
Shattering glass jolts me from sleep.
I bolt upright. Sweat dampens my brow. I lie still for another minute, my heart racing. Muffled voices drift through the door. I get up from bed and quickly throw on my nightdress. I take the lash from my satchel.
It could be a ghoul. One who has discovered our location. My master has something for you. All of you.
The hallway is dark, and I walk blindly, but the house is so small, I know where each footfall lands. The smell of wood smoke rises in my nostrils, and I wonder who is up this late.
There. Another sound. Whimpering? It is coming from Darby’s room. A light glows along the bottom of her door. Without even pausing to think it through, I push it open, my lash gripped tightly in my fist.
Darby thrashes on the bed, violently shaking her head back and forth. The remains of a porcelain ewer lie cracked on the floor. Even in the dim firelight, I can see the wild look in her eyes.
“Jess!” Balthazar shouts. “Leave! Leave now!”
But I do not.
I rush to Darby’s bedside. “What happened?”