Then the silence was shattered once more.
It wasn’t a scream, I realized.
It was a wail.
A low keening sound that slowly built to a crescendo before fading and then starting again.
The wail echoed off the walls, filling the room. A chorus of agony and despair pierced my ears and made my heart ache as my eyes welled with tears. It was a mournful, gut-wrenching sound that drowned out everything else.
Fear tightened like a noose around my throat.
There was no mistaking the cry.
A banshee’s wail.
An omen.
A harbinger of death.
And tonight, one appeared right outside my window.
I threw the covers aside and stumbled out of bed, bare feet hitting the cold stone floor. Moonlight dimly lit the space, allowing me to survey the room. The air was thick with a strange pressure, like the moment before a storm breaks, where every breath tastes like lightning.
Then I heard another noise. This one was softer, muffled. It cut through the stillness, causing the small hairs on the back of my neck to lift.
It almost sounded like a… scrape. Fingers against stone, perhaps.
My pulse spiked, and I spun towards the window, creeping forward. Every muscle in my body tensed, preparing to face whatever creature was clawing its way into my room.
I reached for the curtain and inhaled a deep breath before flinging it aside.
A hand gripped the windowsill, knuckles pale and trembling. A scream worked its way up my throat as a corded forearm appeared, followed by a shoulder. Before I could release it, though, the intruder’s face came into view.
My scream died on my tongue.
I knew that face. It had haunted my dreams. My soul longing for its twin.
“Callum?”
Dirt smeared his cheek, and his clothes were damp and torn from the climb.
“Open it.” He tapped on the windowpane, and I didn’t hesitate.
I threw the latch back and pushed the window up so hard it rattled in its frame. My brother scrambled upward, and I leaned over the edge to grab him, my fingers digging into the material of his sleeve.
Callum’s boot slipped on the stone, and for one terrifying second, he dangled over the ledge.
“Hold on,” I said, as I struggled to haul him up with every ounce of strength I had. “Don’t you dare fall.”
“I’m not… just… Cadence… gods… help me up.”
“I’m trying.”
“Not to rush you, but I’d prefer not to die today.”
“Perhaps fewer teacakes would have made this less difficult,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Rude!” Callum grunted as he heaved himself through the window.
