“This spell is as old as the creation of life. Once invoked, it will close the gateways, and the fae will be trapped in Faery forever.”
Catherine swallowed past the lump in her throat. “What happens to them once the gateway closes?”
“They will slowly die. Faery cannot exist without feeding off the life in the human realm.” She set the bowl of smoking herbs down between the parallel lines of the square and triangle at Catherine’s feet. Then Mrs. Rosewood reached for the bundles.
“Is that really necessary? They cannot really be bad, can they?” Catherine asked, her eyes fixated on the bundle in Mrs. Rosewood’s hand as she slowly unraveled it.
A stench escaped—something between a festering wound and the sharp scent of metal. It made her stomach churn. The wrappings fell away, and Mrs. Rosewood held up a mound of flesh. Catherine reeled backward, but her lowered body wouldn’t obey her command. It was as if her feet had been planted in the ground.
“Thanks to the sacrifice of the few, the many will survive,” Mrs. Rosewood said with reverence. She placed it on the tip of the triangle.
Bile rose up in her throat. The scent beside her was overwhelming. “What is that?” Catherine gasped.
Mrs. Rosewood placed the second bloody offering. “The hearts of maidens with true sight. Their lives had to be sacrificed to close the gateway forever.”
Everything seemed to move in slow motion as Mrs. Rosewood placed the final heart at the third point. Her body prickled in the way it had in the forest, but the entire world tilted sideways. She couldn’t make her mouth work. Her palms were sweaty, and her legs trembled as if they would collapse beneath her. This couldn’t be real. Mrs. Rosewood was the killer. Miss Ashton, the ghost, but who was the third...
When she’d come to dress her, Mrs. Rosewood had said that Miss Larson had been called away. This must be a nightmare. She shook her head. Please. Let this be a nightmare.
“You must understand, Catherine. I take no pleasure in it. But it had to be done.” Mrs. Rosewood’s voice, which she had once found so soothing, had been laced with poisonous lies.
She shook her head. “No. It isn’t real.”
Mrs. Rosewoodstepped closer, and in her hand was a silver dagger stained with blood. Miss Larson’s blood. She stepped into the circle, and there was no escape. Catherine’s feet wouldn’t move as the dagger came toward her.
18
Ray scanned his surroundings, with one eye on the wolf who was mid-transformation. The werewolf threw his head back as he howled, the transformation rippling across his body. His small human body expanded like air being added into a bellows. His back hunched as his shirt ripped, and he screamed. Ray had heard the transformation was excruciating. Bones broke and reformed, and hair grew and covered his body. In the midst of changing werewolves were at their most vulnerable. If only he hadn’t exhausted his magic in Faery, it would be easy enough to dispatch the beast.
But as it were,his options were run or try and fight with what power he had. The transformation was nearly complete. Tufts of hair protruded from his tattered clothing. His shoulders were twice as broad as they’d been before, and his arms elongated and dragged against the ground, tipped with yellow claws. Ray had to get to Lady Thornton before Bella killed her, but the wolf was in his way. Looping back around to lose him would waste precious time. As it were, Bella might have already started whatever dark ritual she’d been using to try and take these women’s hearts.
It would be the direct route or nothing at all. Ray rushed toward the werewolf. It swiped at him, but he managed to dodge the strike and pass him by. The werewolf howled in aggravation, and Ray picked up speed as he raced toward the forest where Lady Thornton’s magic had started to burn against the night. Ray was struck from the side, and he spun to see the werewolf had not only caught up with him, but he had placed himself between Ray and the forest.
It couldn’t have been a coincidence. Most of the infected lost themselves to an animalistic madness brought on by the changes of the waxing and waning moon. The wolf came no closer or made any attempt to attack first as if he wouldn’t risk giving Ray an opportunity to slip past him again. Though he looked to be a beast on the exterior, Lord Thornton’s human mind remained intact. He had suspected as much when he’d seen the tracks in the forest, but he never thought this would be what stood between him and redemption. Ray backed up a step, tried to feign to the right, but the werewolf leaped to block his path once more.
Ray paced, and the beast followed. They were near the back garden where he’d been working early today. Very casually, Ray checked for the shovel he’d tossed aside. The barest hint of the handle peaked around the shrubbery. It wasn’t the blade of energy and light he had wielded in the forest, but it was better than nothing. Ray doubled back and sprinted across the lawn. The wolf gave chase, the thundering of his footsteps following behind.
Little could kill a werewolf, and at best he could do was stun it long enough to find Lady Thornton. The shovel was where he’d last seen it, and he snatched the wooden handle off the ground as the wolf came crashing down upon him. Rancid breath and yellow teeth dripping with saliva came inches from his nose. He thrust the handle into his snapping jaws. The wood splintered under the force of the bite and threatened to crack. They tussled for a moment until the shovel snapped in half with one piece in each of Ray’s hands.
With his right hand, he feigned to stab at the wolf’s neck, but he ducked under that swing and left an opening for his left-handed strike to the shoulder. He jabbed the jagged end of the shovel into his flesh, and the werewolf reeled back, roaring. It clawed at the shovel embedded in his flesh.While he was preoccupied, Ray bolted for the forest.
White-hot pain burned through the back of his thighs. Ray stumbled and turned to see the werewolf draw closer, shovel still protruding from his shoulder and dripping blood from the wound. He tried to stagger away, but the wolf was quicker, pinning him to the ground with one clawed hand. He pressed him down into the grass, and his slathering jaws hovered inches from Ray’s racing pulse.
* * *
Catherine twisted her immobile body,but she could do nothing to free herself as Mrs. Rosewood crept ever closer. The dagger in her hand reflected the flickering candlelight as she raised it up. Catherine clenched her eyes shut, even in her last moments too much a coward to look death in the face. Mrs. Rosewood grasped her wrist, and Catherine thought she might retch. What a shameful end to vomit in her final moments.
The cold metal of the blade pressed against the soft flesh of her inner wrist, and she felt the sting as it parted her flesh. Hot blood seeped from her wound, and then Mrs. Rosewood let go. Only then did Catherine peek open one eye. Mrs. Rosewood picked up the bowl in which she’d burned the herbs, now nothing but white ash, and caught Catherine’s blood in the bowl.
As her blood poured into the bowl, Catherine stared on in horror. Her blood and the ash mixed together, and the tingling sensation across her body turned into a faint burning as if flames had been held up against her skin.
“It will hurt for only a moment,” Mrs. Rosewood said as she pressed a cloth to Catherine’s wound to staunch the bleeding.
“What are you doing to me?” Catherine moaned. The edges of her vision were black; she felt as if someone had a hold of her throat and was squeezing it.
“It will all be over soon,” Mrs. Rosewood said as she brushed the hair from Catherine’s face.
Catherine’s body shook. The darkness was creeping in, choking her; she was back in the room. The blackness—the absolute silence. No. No. She had to get out. She couldn’t be locked in again. It closed in around her, she saw the faintest glow. The girl she had been curled in a ball locked in that dark room raised her head and reached for the light, grasping it in her hands. It glowed brighter and brighter until it burst from between her clasped fingers, illuminating outward, and with it, the song began to resonate through the warmth of the tree she’d seen in Faery. For a brief moment, she glimpsed it, and she felt the warmth burn through her, filling her with light.
