It looked like his bride not only had a good appetite but also a head full of common sense.
This, he decided, wasn’t bad at all.
He crept back up the stairs whence he’d come from, stunned. He nearly stumbled on the top stair, giving himself away. Coward, he scolded himself again, as he returned to his room.
Birdie was lost.
With only the lantern to show her the way, she’d ventured into a chain of corridors, taken a right turn instead of a left, and ended up in a series of dusty rooms, where the furniture was draped by holland covers. One thing was clear to her: this place was empty; there wasn’t a single soul in the entire castle. Not even a ghost. It was entirely dark, with only occasional rays of moonlight flitting through the grime-smeared windows.
She hadn’t come this way before; she thought uneasily, as she shifted the lantern from one hand to the other. She remembered coming down a winding staircase, and there was a stone staircase right there, except it was to her left, when it should have been to her right. On the other hand, maybe it was correct, and she’d simply been too hungry to pay proper attention when she’d come this way earlier.
Birdie pushed the heavy oaken door open and climbed the stairs.
Dear me, those stairs never seemed to end. She should be coming out in the main hall. Why did she have the feeling she was climbing a tower?
She’d recently read a book of brand-new fairy tales written by German brothers named Grimm, translated to English. One story, called “Rapunzel”, was about a girl with long hair, who was walled up in a tower. The Brothers Grimm must have envisioned a tower like this. Without the stairs.
Reaching the top, she found her way barred by another door. Through the gap between the door and the stone floor, she saw glimmers of light. Someone was in the room. Was this where Higgins slept?
Relieved to finally find another living soul within these walls, she pushed the door open.
She found herself in a round tower room, with only a weak fire in the fireplace that barely lit up half of the room, leaving the other half in the dark. She made out a bed and an armchair in front of the fire. But no one was there.
A storm howled around the tower, and the wind rattled against the small window.
“How excessively odd,” she mumbled, lifting her lantern.
Then she heard it. A scraping coming from the fireplace. From the armchair, the back of which faced her.
Birdie’s mouth dried up, and her heart hammered painfully in her chest.
A dark shadow unfolded itself from the armchair, growing to tremendous proportions. The shadowy figure grew, nearly touching the roof beams. Orange tongues flickered about it, hissing, spitting like the flames of hell.
Goodness, there were phantoms in this place, after all.
“Away with you, you ghoul!” she screamed and threw her lamp at it. She squeezed her eyes shut to cut off the terrifying vision. She stumbled backwards, down the stairs, half falling, half crawling, scraping her knees, getting up again, and running down the corridor. Somehow, she found her room. Gasping, she threw the door shut and drew the bolt.
For good measure, she pushed her dresser in front of the door.
Then she crawled into bed, drew the blankets and pillows over her head. Eventually, she fell into an exhausted sleep.
Chapter 5
Birdie overslept.
Considering that she was all alone in a musty, and very much haunted, castle, she hadn’t slept that badly.
When she awoke, it was mid-morning, and she sat up straight in her bed. Now, in the morning light, last night seemed like an exaggerated nightmare, and she was almost angry at herself for having given in to panic.
Ghouls and ghosts indeed.
She should’ve investigated the creature, asked it some questions. She could’ve learned something about the afterlife. Or maybe she could’ve helped break its curse. Instead, she’d run faster than a chicken about to be slaughtered.
But what was even more likely was that there probably had been nothing to begin with. Higgins must’ve lit the fireplace. It must’ve been shadows cast on the wall by the flames.
Her nerves had been frayed. She’d been lost. She was exhausted and confused. It must have been her mind playing tricks on her.
Whatever that had been, she had other, more immediate things to worry about.
