Silas groaned, “When I say run, do so and don’t look back.”
I widened, hands clasped over my mouth to prevent the scream from erupting. Silas’s body was riddled with thick blades of black, puncturing tan, immortal flesh. Blood pooled at his feet, as the blade released their grip with a sickening muted sound.
“Run!” Silas yelled, facing the imminent threat balling together for a second strike. “Now!” Silas pushed off the boulder, facing the shadows head-on with brute force.
I did what he said, running as fast as I possibly could, daring not to look at the battle behind me.
“Oh my Lord,” Ebony gasped.
I slammed the doors behind me, clutching at my shoulder, letting myself fall upon the granite floor. I didn’t move—the fight dissipated, and the adrenaline propelling me faded. Utterly exhausted, I closed my eyes to the ache of my limbs and the searing heat of sliced flesh.
“Help me.” I gasped, the pain seared itself in waves with every minor movement I threatened to make.
Ebony’s wispy self gathered materials and dressed the severe wounds. She sat me up against the banister, moving quickly to stop the bleeding as I tried to make sense of the shifting shadows. It couldn’t bea coincidence upon leaving Ayla’s that after talking about such shadows I was attacked. But try as I might, I struggled to comprehend what happened in those woods. There was no simple explanation I could come up with that made my doubts dissipate.
Ebony laid a gentle hand upon my shoulder. “This one will need stitches. Would you like something for the pain before I begin?”
I tilted my head to the door, watching it open to the chilly winter’s night and to the shadowy figure slowly to approach.
“There you are! Just what on Earth happened out there?” Ebony called to the figure.
The floor under me began to quake, shaking the Earth tenfold to the stone collapsing from higher up. A low growl purred in my ear, and my own eyes fluttered upward to the heavens to see a hole opened to the gray clouds. White shimmering flakes floated down in thick curtains, the storm upon us. The cold swept through in heaving waves as the blizzard bore down, the pure white snow blotting the blood and the tortured scream.
“The shadows, they got to her. I was too late in tracking her down. Theroses, Ebony. The goddamn roses,” Silas growled.
I blinked, his body bracing the cold wind to the garden as red petals joined the snowflakes, slicing the air with cruel beauty.
Cool hands pressed to the wound. “Forget the roses. She needs you. She lost too much blood, and Ican only do so much. So, I suggest you do something before you regret it later.”
I began to fade, the pain taking its place. Ebony’s dark features blinked in for a moment, the blood—my blood appearing on her opaque apron, a steel needle poised in mid-air and then disappeared into the dark. Her voice warped at the sound of crashing and the fiery sting of my shoulder.
Hot tears stung my cheeks and then it all went black.
Twenty
Iawoke sometime later, the night air still and dark. Listening to silent beats, I splayed a palm out onto the soft comforter. My hands shook as I raised them to my shoulder to find the smooth cotton bandage in its place did little to soothe the budding, anxious knot. The oddity was not lost on me since I had begun living with an immortal who could fix me up. I replayed the events over in my head and came to the undeniable conclusion.
I’d nearly been killed, and this time, I had to do something.
I threw open the drawer, finding the silver knife and the ash powder. With shaky hands, I tucked the items away, throwing a jacket over the thin nightdress and walked toward the west wing.
The castle was empty, a void that sucked the life out of people, trapping them here to haunt the halls and to house the monster. It was a stain on the landscape, a terror on lives, and it needed to go. The shadows behind me told me such, so I limped through the corridor in search of Silas’s bedroom. He had to be there, and I had no other choice but to catch him off guard.
I had to do it.
I needed to do it.
I didn’t want to.
The girl’s pale hand weakly stretched out to hold Ayla’s plays on repeat in my head. The little girl would be dead in a fortnight.
I waited a hair out in the main corridor to see if Ebony or the other ghost would catch wind of my plan. Out on the stairwell, the cold draft from the raging storm blew across the space. I glanced up to the crumbling hole in the ceiling, snow packing the stone and dusting the granite in white.
The pit of my stomach dropped as I stared at what appeared to be a crime scene. The wind howled against any logic in the collapsed ceiling, and the wood rot permeated the icy chill.
The knife shook in my fist, chest rising and falling with quivering gasps. I ignored the searing pain in my shoulder and marched forward. Doors blurred either from the enchantment that bound the castle or from the ghosts. Ebony and the others would be upset their master was dead, but perhaps then she could move on beyond the living.
It would only cost my heart to ensure the suffering does not continue. He may have saved me, but what of the other innocents in the village? Killing him was the only option to stop this.
