I smiled, pausing for a moment. This manor could be beautiful. Tempting—like a Venus flytrap to a bug. Almost cozy.
Potted ferns lined the corners, their fronds swaying in the draft from the door cracked open. I was tempted to sit down in one of the rush-seated chairs and enjoy the sun.
But I didn’t want to miss my chance to speak to my mysterious captor—or savior, or whatever Emrys was.
“Should I go that way?” I asked the plants and the sun-drenched floor tiles.
The door opened wider.
“So I thought.” I shrugged and stepped into the garden.
The cold struck me at once, filling my lungs with the scent of damp earth and lingering frost. My boots crunched over the gravel path, the remnants of winter giving way to the hesitant bloom of early spring. The timid sun warmed my face.
Just ahead, past the skeletal rose briars and the statue of a weeping angel, stood the greenhouse.
Beyond it stretched a vast gray lake, the morning mist swelling over it like a shroud.
I froze, dread pooling in my gut.
“I see you, Daphne,” the Unbidden whispered in my mind. “Want to go for a swim? Just like before.”
I pressed my fists to my temples. That was the last thing I needed—the Unbidden’s riddles and mockery on top of everything else.
“Shut up. I have no time for your nonsense.”
The greenhouse’s iron framework arched like the ribcage of some great beast, its glass panes misted with condensation. Vibrant green stirred through the fogged glass—leaves pressing against the glass, vines curling along the ironwork.
As I neared, the scent of primroses reached me first, sweet and delicate, mingling with the perfume of damp moss and turned soil, of things growing. Steam curled from the greenhouse’s vented roof, escaping into the cool morning air.
The heavy door was slightly ajar, warmth spilling out into the cold air. A shadow moved among the foliage. My heart climbed into my throat.
Emrys.
I snuck through the door gap and straightened my skirts.
“Oh, you found one of them,” the Unbidden said. “And you want to get on his good side, Daphne?” Its laughter echoed in my brain like bubbles escaping the lips of a drowning man. “Good luck with that.”
“What do you mean by them?” I whispered. Since I started hearing the Unbidden on that fateful night when my parents died, it had never been helpful. Awakening near bodies of water and tormenting me—that was all it was good for.
“You’ll see soon enough, foolish girl.” It withdrew to the murky depths of my mind.
Typical.
Emrys was having a heated conversation with someone, but I couldn’t see with whom. His broad back in a crisp white shirt was hiding his company. Before him stood a crumbling marble fountain, decorated with a statue of a nymph. The calming splash of water and the tender scent of flowers made the place feel serene.
“I told you countless times, Nibble, do not touch the apples. They are for the turtles. Petrus, Flint, here are your pieces.”
I nervously wrung my hands and tried to peek over his shoulders. How many people were there?
“Not Nibble. Call me Shadow,” an odd, squeaky voice from above retorted.
Stepping aside, I saw it—a small brown puppy nestled in the marble basket held by the nymph.
“Not Shadow. Thief is what fits you best. Didn’t Liang feed you already?”
I gasped. That puppy had large, leathery wings!
“Talking about thieves, here’s our guest. Nibble, meet Daphne,” Emrys said without turning around.
