Ashton didn’t cry out. Even now, I couldn’t get anything deep or genuine out of him. But the cooling mulled wine hit him square in the face, and within seconds it was in his eyes, in the curls that hung down over his forehead, in the fabric of his jumper. His whole upper body was drenched in berry blood, but he only gasped under his breath and took two steps back. Still, it was enough.
I dropped the cup, turned, and then… and then I ran. The moment pooled, thick and obscure, as if someone had poured tar into it. The cold wall beneath my fingers as I sprinted off the bridge towards the walkway. Warm brown around me, inside a stinging red. My pulse was unsteady and my vision went in and out as my heart boomed in my ears and in my head. I saw the expanse of Third Court before me: paved paths, squares of scant, wintry grass. Only a few yards, then I was in Second Court. My eyes swept across the brick walls of the enclosing buildings, the mullioned windows, the towers with their pattern of white stones. Lights were on in some of the windows, but there was no one to be seen anywhere. All I could hear was the echo of my footsteps and my own panting breaths. My lungs were burning, there was a stitch in my side and between my ribs, but I forced myself to run faster.
I could see the passage leading to the next court, a dark tunnel, and beyond that a glimpse of the court itself. From there it wasn’t far to the main gate and the city centre: well-lit streets full of restaurants and other people. Rescue, safety, protection. I could already see it all before me, a bright glimmer in the distance, when it happened.
Midway through the passage I felt such a pressure in my chest that I nearly tripped over my own feet. It felt like somebody was using a crowbar inside me, prising me violently apart. I fought it, but I was too weak. Something in me gave way and exploded. Next came a thousand pinpricks boring in between my ribs, and then a terrible burning. I gasped, staggering into the wall next to me and clutching my chest. Seconds later, it was on fire. I felt tongues of flame licking at me from the inside, spreading to all my senses. I was sick and dizzy at the same time, and every time I tried to run, I stumbled again.
What was that?
I was so busy trying to locate the source of the burning sensation that I didn’t hear the voice until it was already next to me. ‘Not very nice of you, Mabel.’
The taunt reached me only faintly. The pain had now acquired a sound, a buzzing in my ears. I pressed my hands to them, then to my chest again, where everything was on fire. I let out a whimper, my body sliding down the wall as the feeling chewed through all my muscles. Throughme. All my thoughts, all my instincts, all my reflexes, all my emotions. I was coming apart, and I could do nothing to stop it. No.No, no, no.I forced myself to push back with all my might, heaping my strength on the flames, bracing my mind against the pressure threatening to tear me apart.I. Will. Not. Give. Up.
A panting breath reached my ears, but I wasn’t sure if it was mine until I heard his voice again. Barely more than an exasperated growl. ‘You could have made this less taxing for both of us if you’d just opened up to me a little. But no, you’ve got to be so fucking suspicious. I’m genuinely curious: what was it about Blake that made you more tractable with him?’
Ashton was standing next to me. I sensed his presence like a cold, damp cloth, but I wasn’t able to look up at him. Even with my eyes closed, everything was spinning. The darkness was giving way to memories, which began to spill out. The pain was dragging out of me everything I’d kept pent up over the last few months: the worry, the unease, the nervous curiosity, the clammy fear. All the dark, but also all the light. All the… beauty. Memories of Zoe before she slipped away from me, of Davie before I almost lost him, of Heathcliff before I’d realised he was only ever Blake. Of him, especially, and for the first time, I fully embraced the feeling that came with them. With him. I had always known that falling in love could be disastrous, but now I realised how dangerous it truly was. Because it had brought me here. To the brink of the darkest abyss I’d ever glimpsed: the one yawning inside myself.
I gasped, whimpered, cried soundlessly, did everything I could to keep my mind away from the edge. To cling to my own will, because I could sense it slipping further through my fingers with every passing second.
Ashton had squatted down in front of me, but I didn’t notice until I felt his breath on my face. ‘You stupid, stubborn girl.’ He took my head in his hands, wiping my damp cheeks. I barely felt it–my skin seemed wrapped in cotton wool, like Ashton’s voice as it slunk into my ears. ‘Just let go.’
I wanted to sayno. I wanted to scream it, lash out at him, fight, defend myself and… my mind reeled, my muscles went limp.
I felt my face resting in his hands, because I no longer had the strength to hold up my head. Because I had no strength at all. Because everything was pointless, exhausting, futile. Because I didn’t stand a chance anyway. Because I couldn’t do it anymore. I didn’t want to keep fighting. I didn’t want anything anymore. Just for it to stop. Maybe… forever.
‘There, finally.’ Ashton’s voice grew softer, almost tender, like his touch on my cheek. I felt the tips of his fingers glowing on my skin, and realised it wasn’t his heat. It was mine. I felt it: warmth seeping out of me, drawing the energy in its wake. My will, my strength, my… soul?
My head slumped back against the wall. Ashton’s hand slid under the scarf to my neck, where the artery thrummed wearily. He sighed. The sound was gentle, satisfied, yet he was pushing me relentlessly towards the abyss. I stumbled, my muscles twitching, my hand fumbling at his. He was burning; I was cold. My fingers dropped. And I tumbled… into myself. Sometimes falling felt like floating, sometimes like endless impact. This kind was almost unbearably soft, like plunging through cloud, and for some strange reason I could not name, I knew the landing would be all the more brutal. But I didn’t care, because I didn’t care about anything. Because I was disappearing, in the quietest, most gossamer way. Second by second, breath by breath, I was dissolving. My body grew heavy and numb, until I felt nothing anymore: not the cold stone beneath and behind me, not the icy January wind that engulfed me, not the hands holding my head and stroking my throat, not my artery, which still throbbed lethargically.
There was nothing left, nothing, only… a voice. ‘Get back– now!’
I was almost sure I was dreaming it. Except that this dream felt more like waking up. The cotton wool inside me dissipated, so that the pressure returned. Fingertips gouging between my ribs–not from outside, but as though a hand were rooting around inside me. I let out a gasp of air, realising that if I could still do that, then I must be breathing. Which should have been a good thing, except that all I felt was how much it hurt. Every breath was agony, as if my lungs were on fire. Or the air. Or my chest. Or… everything.
‘Not her, Ashton.’
I knew that voice. I liked that voice. Maybe I even loved that voice. Maybe I didn’t want to, and yet I was thankful for it, because it reminded me that I was capable of it: love.And hate, I thought, as the other voice responded. Close by, just as deep, warning and… angry. ‘That’s not for you to decide.’
‘Yes, it is. This time, it is. I’ve called the porters–they’ll be here any minute now.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘Dead serious. You know I love you, but if you don’t let go of her right now and get out of here, I’m going to hurt you. In every way you can think of. You know I can. So don’t push me.’
Silence, the pressure inside me building until I felt like screaming. I let out a murmur, that was all, and then… it was over. The pressure eased, the hand withdrew.
A gust of wind on my face, my lolling head. My eyes tried to open, but the lids were weighted with stones. My darkness circulated, not black now but a deep and lightless brown that somehow still seemed light. Warm. Protective.
There were more words, but they were drowned in the sea of pain inside me, the waves reluctant to calm. I was vaguely aware of more hands cradling my face. Cooler hands, gentler hands. And then that voice again, so close that I could feel it on my skin. ‘Pica.’
I smiled inside, but the corners of my mouth didn’t lift, because my mind was slipping away once more. Again, the sense of falling, but this time I felt no fear. Because my last thought was that there was someone there to catch me.
Chapter26
Mabel
From one darkness to the next.The thought flashed through my mind as I blinked. Close to my face was dark green, a slant of light dancing across it, moving swiftly towards me. It was dazzling, and I squinted. Just a few seconds, then the light had moved on. With it went the sound of an engine, reaching me from far away.
I rolled my head towards the window with an effort. The curtains weren’t fully closed, and the colours of the street were cast into the room. Car headlights, lampposts, traffic-light red. The different shades swirled unpleasantly in my brain. I pressed my hands to my throbbing eyes, trying to remember. Where was I?
