“What does it feed on?”
“Sorrow. Pain.”
The curse would have given it plenty of sustenance. But that curse no longer exists. Jude and I destroyed it. Is this what she meant, then, by us waking a great hunger? We took away the Overlay’s food source. But then I think of Ivy’s mother, wailing over her daughter’s coffin, offering up an entire feast. Something tells me it doesn’t need the curse to feed.
“Do you know how to get in?” I ask.
Mistress Bramble pulls the pipe from her mouth. “Why would you wanna go meddlin’ with a place like that?”
“Because someone is trapped in there. Two someones, actually.” My mother and Simon. “Possibly three, if our classmate is still alive.”
A log pops in the grate.
The fire crackles.
I shift forward. “Can you see them?”
Mistress Bramble taps her pipe while shadows flicker across her face.
I grip the tops of my knees, waiting for her toanswer. Desperate for her to speak. To tell me the truth. Can she see my mother? But she doesn’t say a word.
I stare into her steely gray eyes. “Do you know how to get in?”
Her chair creaks as she leans away from me. “Even if I did, I’d take that knowin’ to my grave.”
23
THE SKELETON KEY
Random, weekend parties aren’t my scene, especially not the kind held in drafty barns with alcohol. But Kate is going and Lainey will almost certainly be there. So Twig, Naomi, Jude, and I pile into his BMW and make our way to the abandoned farmstead under a sliver of moonlight and an expanse of stars.
“You know,” Twig says, stepping over a fallen fence post. “According to certain accounts, the farmer who last lived here was murdered in this barn.”
“That isn’t true,” Naomi replies, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her coat. “The owner went into cardiac arrest while standing in his hayloft. The coroner was certain the heartattack killed him, and there is absolutely zero evidence he was pushed. Every single rumor about bad blood between him and his son developed post mortem, because nobody in town liked the family and everyone wanted a good story.”
The three of us stop in front of a rusted length of barbed wire to gape at her.
“I overheard Kaylie Littleton talking about the barn being haunted by his vengeful spirit at lunch yesterday and I just—there’s only so much more I can take.”
Clearly Naomi—logical, grounded, practical-as-can-be Naomi—has reached her paranormal threshold.
“Impressive research,” Twig says.
“Maybe you can help us find some information about the heart stone,” Jude adds.
My stomach twists.
After our visit to Bramble’s, we went to the manor and gutted Rafe’s bedroom. We turned it upside down and inside out. The missing page from the codex was nowhere to be found. So we took to the internet and struck out just as hard.
All we know is what Mistress Bramble told us. The heart stone has the power to devour souls. Something has a hold of Jude’s. I used that stone to bring him back to life. And the terrifyingtendrils that marked him upon his death have returned.
I was so hopeful our visit would provide answers, and I suppose they provided some. If only those answers brought clarity instead of dread.
Persistent, gnawing dread.
Up ahead, headlights from a truck shine on the barn. Despite a “No Trespassing” sign, the doors are open.
Inside, Christmas lights hang from the rafters, their multi-colored glow catching cobwebs as our classmates laugh and dance. It smells like hay and beer. At one end, Brady Keller and Caleb Briggs stand behind a makeshift bar-slash-DJ booth erected from two empty barrels, a sheet of plywood, and LED strips. Caleb plays music using his phone and a bluetooth speaker while Brady makes drinks. A long line snakes around the interior.
