When I reached the second floor the noise had quietened to a series of sniffs and sharp intakes of breath. I didn’t like the feeling of the corridor. It was thick. With each step the negative energy stuck to me like molasses until I reached the place where she was. I saw her then – truly saw her. Since we brought her back I’d seen her cry out of frustration like a child, but this was different. Her sharp wit and fierce temper had melted away to expose a heart as raw as a scraped knee.
After a while she composed herself enough to stand and drew her hands back to her chest defensively. She turned around and if she was surprised to see me standing there she didn’t show it. In fact, she didn’t react at all. Did she think I would mock her? After all, she’d cried for the death of people who meant nothing to her and had happened centuries before her time. Yet, there she was weeping over the body of innocents like they were precious and dear to her.
Something snapped inside me as she broke our sight and lowered her head, and I covered the distance between us in a second. It felt wrong after I’d put so much effort into keeping her at arm’s length to then crush her to me. There was moment where she must have felt the same as her muscles went taut beneath my fingers. But quickly she laced her arms around me and buried her face into my shirt. She felt thin – had I ever realised how thin she’d become? I rested my hands at the curve of her back and my cheek against her hair, breathing in her scent. My eyes closed and I engulfed myself in the warmth it provided. Even with the stink of several weeks of travelling on her clothes she smelt wonderful, like spring grass and sweet pea.
I shoved those thoughts down and concentrated on what was around us; the real reason behind why those little bodies were at our feet and not aged with their own families. We had bigger things to think of.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
I’D FELT SO hopelessly lost for a beat. The world I knew, the world I’d been sheltered by, suddenly came crashing down around me and I was left with nothing but bodies. No remains should ever be so small. Then he’d appeared out of nowhere, stealthy as always, and caught me feeling weak as a duckling. Only Roan had ever seen me so raw but Ethan didn’t mock me like I thought he would.
I breathed in his scent as I felt his breath tickle my hair. He smelt of wood-smoke and summer. Beneath his dirty-white linen shirt I heard his heart beat steadily and it calmed me. The place where his hands fell on my back tingled and pulsed as blood roared in my veins. I couldn’t remember a time in my life where I’d felt so safe. With him I was safe. So, at that point I’d decided.
“I’m not going back,” I said.
Ethan tensed. “Ava-”
“I can’t go back. I can’t just pretend that this little adventure never happened and go on with my life, knowing that these creatures exist and can do this.” I flung out a hand.
“You won’t survive here,” he said, releasing me. “I know things have been tame these past few months but it will change. The Berserkers are growing impatient. I saw it while I was gone, and heard it from our fighters-”
“I’ve doubted that I’ll survive to see next spring since the moment I got here. You can’t protect me forever, and that stands even more so if I just pick up where I left off.” I stood back from him, minding the bodies at my feet. “Father rarely comes home. The townsfolk have always been cautious of our family, especially considering the farm’s history, and my education and upbringing. Once the pretence of Cedar has worn off – and it will – there’ll be nothing stopping the townsfolk from coming,” I huffed. “When I cross the border I’ll have to pack up and start a new life and you won’t be able to follow me.”
“I know that,” he said, footsteps sounding behind him. He listened and whispered. “This is neither the time nor the place for this conversation. We’d better not disturb the dead.”
We exited the room and I bit my tongue to stop myself from retaliating. It was my fate and he couldn’t tell me what to do, even if I was a measly, little Gnathian. Daniel and Ethan started to argue when we walked toward another set of stairs, and as we passed a closed bedroom door I felt something pull at me. The glint of the brass handle caught my eye, still clear beneath the rusted top.
“Ava.” Ric called back to me but I was fixated.
“Have you looked in this room yet?” I asked. He shook his head.
“Why?”
I was silent before answering. Why, indeed. “I’ve got a funny feeling about it-”
“Our experiences of your ‘feelings’ have never been good ones so let’s keep moving,” Daniel snapped.
I glared at him and tried the handle. Similar to the planning room below, there was no give.
“Why do you want to see inside?” Daniel asked.
“Every door on this landing is open so why is this one closed?” My logic sparked Ric’s interest and he walked cautiously up to the door, apparently still wary of my ‘feeling’. He pushed against it. No give.
“Back up.” He waved us away and barged the door with his shoulder, finally forcing it open. The house creaked and groaned around us in response and for a breathless moment I thought the ceiling would come crashing down on us. Then it settled and everyone relaxed.
Ric coughed, waving away the dust that stirred in the dark. Shallow slips of light shone from the windows, highlighting particles that danced in the slowly diminishing breeze. His heavy footsteps bothered the dust on the floor, causing it to spiral into the air and join those motes already dancing. He crossed to the other side of the room and yanked on the boards covering the windows, violently splintering parts of the rotted window frames as they came away. The light washed in and highlighted the ivy that clung to the walls like swollen blood vessels.
From the size and appearance of it we’d walked into another nursery, though this was different. I let out a breath. There weren’t any bodies in this one. Instead, there were dozens of old books that littered the floor and shelves. The writing inside them was small and cramped, each one a textbook of sorts. I looked again at the tiny bed and sitting chair, the children’s toys and brightly coloured woven rug. They couldn’t have been books for children.
“Do you reckon this was her room?” Ric asked, eyeing up the little bed and expensive trinkets that lined the shelves.
“Not just anyone would lavish this much attention on their child,” Ethan said, dusting off one of the covers. “It’s hers, without a doubt.”
Ric picked up a crudely sewn animal doll that appeared dwarfed in his enormous hands. “Why was it closed off?” he asked. Ethan merely shrugged. The events surrounding the House of Adrian were cloaked in lies and deceit. Anyone who could tell us what had actually happened that day either rotted beneath our feet or ran beside Stephan.
I lifted up the book nearest to me. Its pages were sprawled open to reveal the picture of a peasant man being cursed by a witch. The cover shut with a sharp THUMP and I read the title out loud. “The History of Monterreny Moore.”
Daniel looked over my shoulder at the book but remained silent as Ethan sidled up to me. He stared at the cover for a breath too long, and in the end said the words I wasn’t expecting to hear.
“How did you know what it was called?”