I turned. Right behind me a saber speared into the line. My eyes flew up the silver blade and over the diamond hilt colliding with Siobhan’s. She wore the sapphire tunic of the castle guards with black trousers, her blonde hair raked into a neat bun. She tsked, her full lips curving in mock disappointment.
I was running away, but I’d failed. I'd barely made it a mile, and she was on me.
She looked over my head and nodded at the two figures who stood barely feet away.
Burlap sacks were knotted under their chins, their faces smothered, but their necks elongated, pulled back and fully exposed. One male and one female, the clothing as familiar as the press of their arms into one another for comfort. It was a stance I’d seen for years with a pang of happiness.
My Collectors.
My chest constricted, my heart thumping against my ribs, unable to pump fast enough.
The air tickled past my ear, warm and powerful. The gust hit both people at the same time. Identical, deep gashes sliced across their throats, red smiles leering at me in the darkness.
I shook my head, slamming my fists into my eyes trying to rid myself of the images. The Collectors had died once already on my watch. They were my responsibility—my failure. The slashes carved themselves onto the inside of my eyelids, replaying again and again, the skin everting like ruffled pages, blood seeping down, down, down...
Siobhan tugged the saber out of the cord, and it snapped taut. I flew backward, hurtling toward the wall. Grass sliced through my hands as I clawed at the earth, the gray stone and jagged sparks of diamonds looming behind me.
I spun around and kicked. The surface of the wall cracked, spiderwebs fracturing like a sheet of ice. The cord jerked me forward, my shoulder slamming against the stone. A shriek emanated from deep inside me. I kicked out again, my foot plunging through the jagged shards and into frigid water.
A howl pierced to my core.
It wasn’t mine. It wasn’t me screaming. I wasn’t here.
I wrenched away, slipping the cord down my legs. The tension flew away, and I plunged backward into a chasm where the wall had been.
Ash fell around me, cobwebs and dust floating in the air. I landed on a threadbare mattress, shaking the dream or illusion away, but this wasn’t right either. Rusted springs and ripped goose feathers poked into my back, trying to spear into my flesh. The night was thick and the room windowless.
I crawled from the mattress, blindly feeling rough wooden floorboards before immediately hitting a wall. I edged around the perimeter, hitting wall, wall, wall. Reaching up, the ceiling hovered inches above my head hewn from the same gnarled wood. I sank into a corner, barely able to sit. Where was I?
A candle flickered across from me. The red taper melted, drops congealing like blood down its side. Cold forms danced on the walls behind the light, bony fingers, sinewy limbs, all twisting toward me as the flame advanced.
I pressed back into the wall. The wood creaked, releasing a rotten, mildew scent into the air. I slid my hand down my thigh looking for the knife. All that remained was a faint divot left in my skin where the holster should be. A similar indentation marred my wrist where the bangle had been.
The candle pressed closer. Everything in the room reduced to an inky void as I opened my mouth to scream, but my throat seized like wax had been poured down my mouth and sealed it shut.
A light female giggle sounded.
I loosed my breath, hands balling into fists. I swiped for the candle, intent on ramming it down her throat instead. This was no nightmare.
Siobhan held it aloft, her cherubic face swimming into view. “Did I scare you, child?” She chuckled again. “I only wanted to remind you that I’m always here. In your dreams, in your life, in your wildest fantasies...”
My ankle throbbed. I reached down to rub it and caught the outline of soot-stained fingers branded upon my flesh. “What’ve you done?”
“Oh, Tam. It was not me. How could you accuse me of such a crime?” She reached forward and ran a fingertip down my leg. Her touch was warm, petal-soft, and achingly familiar.
I hated what she did to me. The comfort she gave always lingered but never erased the memories. If anything, the trauma was accentuated, and her role as savior cemented. As she lifted her hand, an inky shadow followed in its path, leaving my skin beneath unmarred.
“The spirits in this castle answer to the highest power, child.”
I tucked my leg back underneath me, cursing the cold that returned. “Will they answer to me?”
She giggled. “You really are my favorite, yes?”
I swallowed my retort. “So, it’s spirits that live within the walls?” I asked instead.
“Yes, my dear. The walls, the ceiling, every liminal space within the castle. I’m surprised you can’t see them.”
I glowered at her, not in the mood for her condescending tone. My ankle throbbed.
