Chapter thirty-two
A stuttering, yellow lightshifted toward the window of the antiquated cottage, yearning for air.
It wasn’t possible.
This can’t be possible.
Yet here it sat.
The stacked stones were overrun with black moss rather than green, the thatched roof intact from lack of exposure. No trees had been felled to make room but instead been built around them. Lux stared slack jawed at the three towering black trunks pushed through the cottage’s middle, glowing silver.Wrong, wrong, wrong.
The air weighed heavy on her body. Heavy and stagnant and hatefully cold.
She crept toward a window’s murky glass.This is the phantom’s domain,she reminded herself.Don’t do anything foolish.Like she hadn’t done ten foolish things already. Like she hadn’t stepped beyond the forest’s edge to start.
She held her breath, lifting to the tips of her toes. Enough to raise her eyes over the lip of the sill and nothing else. She could make out little inside. Nothing except a stump of a candlestick burning away atop what might be a mantle. She didn’t think anything was at home…
The candle snuffed.
And howls broke through the quiet. One by one.
The harmony chilled her blood more than any icy breeze ever could. Her skin pricked, every tiny hair standing on end, and she crouched against the cottage wall, her back scraping against the rough stone. She scoured the shadows, focusing on those pushed aside by the illuminated trees.
There wasn’t a thought to spare on what moved within the walls as shining eyes peered from around one wide trunk after another. And when those eyes gave way to foaming, dripping snouts and gnashing teeth, Lux’s mind went entirely blank—save for her focus on the blade brandished at her side, and how it could possibly find its home in a howler’s heart before its fangs found her throat.
Either way, it wouldn’t happen with her back pressed low against a wall, so she peeled off her gloves. The low growls were deep, coarse, almost unnatural, and the beasts moved forward, already reveling in her death. Pointed ears, short horns, thick chests—the creatures were more aggressive than wolves and stealthier than panthers. The odds were bleak, but Lux rose anyway, tossing the dagger from one hand to another, her gloves falling to the mossy floor. She bared her teeth right back.
When the first howler lunged, she slashed its throat.
She had told Shaw the truth that day. Death didn’t bother her. Not when necessary. Not like this.
Dark blood spurted from the next howler’s chest, its teeth leaving behind deep marks as it tore through the fabric of herforearm. Yellow eyes faded as it sunk to the ground, and Lux furiously wiped the blood onto her cloak.
“Ignore it. Ignore it.” But her thoughts went fuzzy as a single, hot droplet traveled the length of her finger and dripped onto the frozen soil at her feet.
You can do this,she thought.It’s only a few more.But her quick glance counted ten.
The creak of aged wood wrenched her attention. It forced her mind away from blood-coated fingertips and stinging pain.
The phantom stepped from around the cottage.
Lux lurched, slipping in her haste to press herself flat against the wall. The wraith shifted. It sniffed at the air, bare feet tucked into the moss and arms hung limp. Lux slunk into the deeper shadows. Away from the bodies, she crouched at the cottage’s back.
You witless idiot!She was about to be caught and fed to howlers if she stayed put. She knew it.
The snarling growls grew quiet, and Lux stared on in mystified horror as the phantom paid them little mind, as if they were simple strays, and turned its back on their fangs. Long fingers crawled from beneath the grey cloak to examine the fallen at its feet. They felt along the thick coats, pressing at their sides, until they found the mortal wounds delivered by a peculiar blade. The hooded face lifted, its gaze traveling to the exact place she’d hidden.
It wouldn’t find her there.
Lux’s pulse beat loud in her ears as she eased back from the window’s inside, and the figure swept away, set out to hunt for her amongst the trees.
Lux breathed in lungfulsof the cottage’s musty scent. Of moldering walls and a generous helping of dust. If it weren’t for the trunks of three monstrous trees glowing pale at its center,she would have been completely lost when she’d first tumbled in, giving away her hiding place by stumbling into the furniture. Even though thewrongnesscontinued to pry at her, she was thankful for that at least.
The candle she’d glimpsed through the window had puddled wax atop a black mantle at her right. Both sat above a fractured fireplace, its insides long gone to ash, and Lux knew then, that the phantom could not feel the cold. How could it and live here? Her breaths continued to cloud as she treaded carefully across the warped floor, toward a second window, a cluttered table and chair, her arms crossed all the while lest she brush a tree.
She bit back a yelp when she tripped over something that squeaked and skittered away before she could determine exactly what she’d injured. Naturally, her mind conjured up all sorts of nasty creatures that would enjoy such an oasis hidden amongst a devouring forest. Her lip curled, and she shook herself, only for her next steps to deliver her to the rear of the cottage—and shelves upon shelves of books. Books intermixed with decanters, vials, and jars with fused lids. Her mouth relaxed in surprise.
She reached for a tiny vial as it called to her, familiar. Where had she seen it?
