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His fingers, slick from the rain, were starting to lose their hold on the stone sill, his thoughts a frenzied blend of regret and determination. He had no idea how long he could hold on. With every passing second, his desperation grew.
Suddenly, a pale hand wrapped around his wrist, yanking him upward. Shocked, Finn barely had time to register the face that leaned out from the attic window. Nathaniel Ferguson, with wide, haunted eyes and disheveled hair, had come to his rescue. He pulled with all his might, dragging Finn into the safety of the attic.
Finn's breath came in ragged gasps as he lay on the floor, momentarily stunned by his brush with death. "You... you saved my life," Finn panted, propping himself up on his elbows to look at his unexpected savior.
Nathaniel, however, looked petrified, backing away slowly until he reached a dim corner of the room. He wrapped himself in a tattered blanket that lay there, curling into a protective ball, eyes darting around as if anticipating some unseen threat.
Finn stuck his head out of the window and looked down. Amelia had seen what had happened and had climbed back into the window below. She was looking up. Finn gave her a thumbs up. She disappeared inside, no doubt rushing up to the other side of the attic door.
Finn turned and approached Nathaniel cautiously, instinctively understanding the need to be gentle.
"Hey, it's okay," he began, voice soothing. "I'm not here to hurt you."
"I know," Nathaniel whispered, his voice trembling. "I've seen you. Through the slits in the door."
"You have?" Finn asked, intrigued.
Nathaniel nodded. "Sometimes the staff talk to me, when Mother isn’t watching. They told me about the American detective and his friend."
"That's me," Finn said, trying to keep the conversation light. "My name is Finn."
"And Amelia," Nathaniel added.
"That's right," Finn replied, wondering how much the man before him knew. "Have they told you about the recent deaths on the island?"
Nathaniel's gaze darkened, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the edges of his blanket. "Yes. Ivar Ward and... Lord Carmichael?"
"Exactly," Finn confirmed. He hesitated before pressing on. "Were you out two nights ago? The night Ivar Ward was killed?"
Nathaniel's eyes widened, and for a moment, Finn thought he saw a flicker of something. Guilt? Fear? "No," Nathaniel said quickly, too quickly. "I never leave during storms. I hate storms. Mother locks me in here because I had an accident once during them, but... It makes me worse."
There was a pause, Finn’s eyes narrowing, trying to decipher the layers of emotion behind Nathaniel's gaze. "Do you know anything about the victims? Anything that might help?"
Nathaniel hesitated, and then, with a vulnerability that made Finn's heart ache, he whispered, "Ivar Ward and Lord Carmichael knew each other."
Finn's heart raced. "How do you know that?"
Nathaniel looked away, shame evident in his downcast eyes. "I... I heard the servants talking about it. They said Ivar Ward used to work for Lord Carmichael years ago."
"When?" Finn asked, sensing the importance of the revelation.
Nathaniel's voice was barely audible above the storm outside. "I don't know, you'd need to ask the servants. Frederick might know."
A bright flash of lightning sounded, and a roar swept through the room. Outside, the lightning struck something nearby, throwing arcs of blue lights and sparks everywhere.
The flare of lightning cast a blinding light into the attic room, illuminating it in a ghastly glow for a brief moment. The ensuing deafening clap of thunder seemed to shake the very walls of Huldra House. The overwhelming sound sent Nathaniel into a fit of terror.
Nathaniel's wide eyes suddenly looked lost, the storm in his mind out of control. With a pained scream, he began to upend furniture, sending chairs and tables crashing against the walls. His frail body displayed an unexpected strength as his fear propelled him. With one last scream, he dove under the sheets of his bed, hiding from the world that was causing him so much distress.
“Nathaniel, it's okay...” His heart broke for him. “I... I'm going to get you out of here.”
Moments later, the sound of the attic door being unlocked reached his ears. He held his breath and looked around for somewhere to hide. His gaze fell upon a large, ornate standing mirror. He slipped behind it, hoping his impromptu hiding spot wouldn't betray him.
Hidden behind the ornate mirror, Finn could barely process the rapid turn of events. Heart racing, he listened intently for any sounds that might give away the arrival of others.
The door opened and someone stepped inside.
Lady Ferguson, her usually stern countenance replaced by one of sheer maternal concern, rushed into the room. "Nathaniel!" she called out, quickly making her way to the bed where her son was hiding.
