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I edged down, keeping low and out of sight—unless, of course, there was someone looking out the window, in which case, I was totally busted. But nobody spotted me.
I reached the ground, inching my way closer, careful not to tangle myself in the thorny hedges growing along the side of the cottage.
I stole a peek. She was old, with weathered skin that’d been so thinned by the years, it seemed to sag from her bones. Row after row of mud-brown cloaks billowed in the breeze, and she worked her way down the line, reaching in her basket, pulling out a cloak, pinning it up, stepping over, reaching down, and so on. Each robe was the same color, the same size, with the same long hood drooping down the back. They looked like something Druids might’ve worn.
She hummed as she worked, and it was such a normal thing, it gave me courage to show myself. I carefully peeked out from a wall of hedges. “Excuse me…hi?”
Her wizened face burst into cartoonishly wide-eyed shock, her nearly lipless and mostly toothless mouth forming a gaping black hole. She looked like a witch carved from a dried apple.
I put up my hands in the universal gesture of Relax; it’s cool, but unfortunately she wasn’t acquainted with universal gestures, because she shrieked the kind of shriek generally associated with haunted house tours.
Crap. I put a finger to my mouth, desperately motioning for her to be quiet. “Sorry, sorry. It’s okay. ” I stepped closer. “I’m sorry I scared you. I was—”
“Oot nooo. ” She waved at me, shooing me like an animal, repeating, “Oot. Oot nooo. ”
Was that even English? I spoke slowly, just in case. “I don’t mean any harm. I’m looking for—”
Frantic, she shook her head, looking like a madwoman. She seemed like she might shriek again, so I sped it up. The last thing I needed was for this woman to call for backup. I dared not tempt whatever shrieking might happen then.
“Shh, please don’t scream. Do you know—” Ronan, I’d wanted to say, but I stopped myself at the last second. For all I knew, this woman adored the vampires. I couldn’t get him in trouble. Going off half-cocked through the countryside was exactly what he’d warned me about. “Do you know the way back to the beach?” I asked, in the lamest topic swerve ever.
Staring at me like I was the nutty one, she stabbed her finger back toward where I’d come from. “Ye best oot nooo. ”
I best out now? Was that what she’d said? Apparently, teeth were for more than just chewing—they also really helped with the whole diction thing.
What a twisted, isolated world this was. I should’ve learned my lesson with the janitor—old didn’t necessarily mean kindly. But now that I was here, I had to know more. I had to press it. I ducked between the robes to get closer. “Who are you?” I brushed my fingers over the brown fabric. “What are these?”
“Fer auld ones. Nae touchin’!” She waved her hands at me, but her mania had toned down a notch. I was no longer a homicidal interloper, just a stray cat sniffing at her stuff. “Shoo!”
Old ones. Now we were talking. I took a tentative step forward. “The old ones? You mean the vampires?”
Her eyes grew wide, terror making the irises expand till her gaze was all watery red and pale blue. The vampires, then.
Again, I touched one of the robes—the texture was coarse, like burlap—and she snatched it from me. “Antonsmas,” she shouted. “Antonsmas oonly. Dinna touch. ”
Antonsmas. That was one of the names Ronan had given to the festival.
I heard men’s voices in the distance. Sound would carry across this valley—how far away were they? I spoke quickly. “They wear these for the festival?”
“Shoo,” she hissed. Panic had seized her again but, tellingly, she quieted her voice to a frantic whisper. “Go, you. Away,” she pleaded. “Right away. ”
I heard the voices again. The clatter of tools. A faraway slamming door.
I didn’t know what I’d been thinking. I’d never spot Ronan here, and if I did, would he even claim to recognize me? For all I knew, the men in town all had shotguns and dined on girl flesh. Later, I’d be sad I hadn’t gotten to see him once more, but I couldn’t get killed before I’d even begun.
And so I shooed.
But as I wove back through the maze of robes, one happened to make its way into my bag. It would be my ticket inside the castle.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The day came. Antonsmas…Up Helly Aa…whatever they wanted to call it. I didn’t care. It was my day. The day I’d break into the castle and stake Alcántara.
In a stroke of luck, Frost was nowhere to be seen as I left. Usually, she spent every free moment lurking at her desk and studying, followed by gloating about how much studying she was doing. Briefly, I wondered where on earth someone like her got to this time of day, but mostly I was just psyched. Her absence meant I didn’t have to explain to anyone why I was heading out with my wetsuit on a bitter cold night, under a pitch-black moonless sky, with only an hour left till lights-out.
It was dicey moving around in the dark, when so many other creatures came out to play, but I couldn’t risk being caught. For once, my main concern wasn’t the guys—if Ronan was right, the vampires and Trainees would be busy in the keep, whereas I could think of a dozen Initiates who’d love nothing more than to tell on me for sneaking around like this…assuming they stopped pummeling me long enough to think about it.
I’d actually worn my wetsuit under my coat and congratulated myself on the stroke of genius. The neoprene material was thick and would keep me warmer than my catsuit, yet was also snug enough to move freely and climb in. And who knew? If I slipped, the thing might even protect me from superficial wounds. In my first year, I’d mended enough tears in my uniform not to underestimate that particular side benefit.
