He rose, cradling the Orb. Its glow dimmed slightly, asifretreating.
“Let’s go,” he said, reaching for my hand.
“There’smore you need to know about the curse, and thebinding. But not tonight.”
As he clasped my hand, I noticed the ruddy glow from the tattoo on his wrist. Spirals of light spilled from it like miniature forks of lightning. I stared at the phenomenon in fascination.
Cillian noted myscrutiny butsaid nothing as he led me back through the woods toward the manor.
“What’s the rush?” I asked as he hurriedly pulled me along.
“My brothers are returning. I don’t want you disturbed by them tonight.”
Ididn’targue. The thought of seeing them again made my skin crawl.Icould still hear their voices from before. Like they were trying to get inside my head.I turned to Cillian with a look of concern.
“Please... how much longer must I stay confined to my room? I hate being locked away. I want to be outside and walk among the trees and breathethefresh air.”
He stopped and gently caressed my cheek. The gesture calmed me.
“I promise you won't be confined. Tomorrow you can go outside.”
Tomorrow felt like a long time to be locked away without any other form of communication or entertainment. The only thing Icould do was to ponder my very uncertain future and my equally uncertain past. I looked at the manor ablaze with light and for a moment, I imagined horse-drawn carriages carrying elegantly dressed guests. Upstairs, my room glowed, the lights pooling through the balcony doors. So oftenI’dvisited stately homes and wondered what it must be like to live in such splendour. Now, I was an unwitting guest.
Cillian escorted me to my room in a thoughtful silence. His attention was focused on the glowing mark on his wrist and mine on having to see his brothers.
“Tilly, sorry I've had to end our evening so abruptly.” Opening the door, he bowed and kissed my hand.
“Cillian,” I called out softly. “Please… what does this have to do with choosing you or your brothers?”
He turned, that familiar, disarming smile flickering across his face but it gave nothing away.
“Good night,” he said as heclosed the door behind me. I heard the lock engage, then his footsteps retreated down the hallway.
I turned and faced the room. Everything waselegant,beautiful, but I knew Icouldn’tstare at these surroundings formuch longerbefore I started to go insane.
I slipped under the covers and into the comforting embrace of thebed...
The sheets were warm. The room was still. But my mindwasn’t.
Just as I was dosing off. I felt it again.
The burn.Awhisper, not mine, threading through my thoughts:
“The Mark Awakens.... Choose wisely.”
FOURTEEN
TILLY’S MUMS POV
My beautiful daughter had to be out there somewhere. Catherine thought as she glanced at the charming cuckoo clock on the hall wall, marking yet another hour without Tilly. Her heart sank further. Her eyes, puffy from crying, she could barely focus on the time.
A deep fear roiled in her gut. Tilly never stayed out overnight without calling, and, on occasions when she stayed out late, she always called.
From her wheelchair, Catherine manoeuvred through the familiar rooms of their home. Each corner filled with memories of laughter and love, now echoed with silence and absence. The weight of the quiet house pressed down on her, as heavy as the damp Scottish mist that clung to the windows outside.
Her daughter’s disappearance served as a grim reminder of the reasons they insisted on raising Tilly far from the city’s dangers and corruption. But the ugly reality behind the headlines, whichhad always seemed so far removed from peaceful Galashiels, had now shattered her life.
Police and locals continued to frantically search the forest and surrounding countryside after finding Tilly’s portfolio scattered among some bushes along the route she usually took. A postman on his delivery route had noticed some of the drawings. Suspicious, he paused to retrieve them and contacted the police after noticing Tilly’s signature.
