Sybil follows her mother along the passage, giving me one backward look and kissing her fingertips in my direction. I touch my own mouth in response. A simple gesture that doesn’t come close to expressing how much I adore her.
Letting out a sigh, I turn to Henry. “Are you ready for what we must do?”
“No,” he says. “But I’ll do it anyway.”
“You understand that once I’ve finished my part of this, you’ll have to act quickly. You’ll need to take control as fast as you can. There may be damage to undo.”
“What if I can’t do it?” His lip quivers slightly. “What if I’m not strong enough for this… for her?”
“You will be strong enough because youmust,” I tell him.
“And what if Anne hates me afterward?” he whispers. “What if Sybil is wrong, and Anne rejects me, after I’ve given up everything for her sake?”
I clasp his shoulder. “I know what you feel. The fear of rejection chained me for too long and nearly caused the very rift I was trying to prevent between Sybil and me. All you can do is be true to your heart and honest with your motives. Do you love Anne enough to do this without condition and without regret, with no expectation of her love in return?”
Henry’s expression shifts, resolve and determination clarifying in his gaze. “I do.”
“Then let us proceed. Remove your shirt.”
He shucks off his cloak and begins unbuttoning the shirt beneath. “What will happen to the, um… the leftovers?”
“There is no need to preserve them. We’ll lay them to rest.”
“But it won’t be the end.” He drops the shirt on the floor, then places a hand on my chest to command my attention. “Beresford. Promise me it won’t be the end.”
“It will be the beginning,” I tell him.
Then I push his head to the side and sink my teeth into his shoulder.
18
The tiny blue orb of light appears before we reach the end of the passage. It dips and dances in midair, waiting as my mother and I approach. When we come close, it zooms away, darting ahead, then waiting again until we catch up.
When the passage ends, we turn left, following the light, and proceed down a long, wide hallway of dark blue stone, carved to look like wooden panels. Cracks of luminous blue branch through the stone walls, like fractured threads of light illuminating our path. It’s bright enough, so my mother abandons the lantern she’s carrying and grips the short iron skewer she brought instead. Beresford told us that iron might cause the Barrow-Man some pain if he was pierced with it.
My thoughts are torn. Part of my mind lingers with Beresford and Henry behind us, engaged in their dreadful task. Part of me is with Anne, suffering in the clutches of the Barrow-Man.
My job is to bargain, to buy time, and to be a distraction for the wight so Beresford can get close enough at the right moment.
“When we meet him, I may have to behave badly,” I whisper to my mother.
She grimaces, but replies, “I understand. We will endure what we must to free your sister.”
The ceiling of the passage has risen significantly, high and arched like the vaulted ceiling of a temple. Ahead, the blue orb hovers before a stone archway in the right-hand wall. A warmer glow issues from that entrance.
During our trek through Wormsloe, I felt the presence of the wight like a faint pressure on my skin, like a whisper against my bones. But the closer I get to that archway, the more intense the pressure becomes.
“He’s there,” I whisper to my mother, hastily unfastening my cloak and unslinging the satchel I brought. I hang the satchel over her shoulder and shove the cloak into her free hand. “I want you to wait outside, please. Listen to our conversation, and enter if you must, but only if things sound dire. Please, Mama…wait.”
She puckers her lips, dissatisfied at the idea, but she nods. Her mouth goes thin as she watches me disrobe, shedding my shoes, stockings, dress, and underwear until I’m entirely naked.
Beresford would hate this, but I will try anything to throw the wight off his guard. Most humans would be startled by sudden nudity, and the majority of men would be entirely befuddled by the appearance of a beautiful naked woman. If there’s any part of the wight that’s attracted to the female body, appearing like this could unsettle him enough to give me a slight advantage.
It’s a risk, of course. If the Barrow-Man desires me strongly enough, he could decide to rape me immediately. But from what Beresford has told me of his personality, he’ll be more interested in bargaining and baiting me. He’ll want to talk.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” my mother whispers.
“We’ll soon find out.” Stepping over my discarded clothes, I continue a few steps along the hall and then turn right, passing through the archway.
