Craven Manor(58)

Terror rooted Daniel to the spot. His fingers shook so badly that the light jittered until it was practically useless. The urge to turn and scan the room was overwhelming, but he couldn’t lose focus. Something deep in his gut told him turning away from the window would be a very dangerous move.

Shhhhhhk. The nails scraped over stone, grinding inexorably closer. An undercurrent of desperation rippled through the gasps. Shhhhhk. He could almost feel the reverberations through the floor. Sweat trickled into Daniel’s eye, but he didn’t even dare blink. Shhhhhk. It was just behind him, so close that…

Air ghosted across the back of his neck as the stranger exhaled. It was like a razorblade of ice scraping over the already-chilled skin.

He couldn’t stand it any longer. He turned.





Chapter Twenty-Six





Daniel pressed his back against the window. The torch’s light jittered as it tried to cut through the shadows.

It wasn’t this dark before. The window’s curtains were wide open; the moonlight should have been able to illuminate the space. It brought back memories of the afternoon in Bran’s study, where multifaceted shadows crawled across the walls and smothered the fireplace’s flames. Only this time, the shadows were crawling up Daniel’s legs.

Daniel gasped as he saw the black marks writhe over him. Wherever they touched, ice spread over his skin. They were growing higher, over his hips, and clinging to his torso.

A block of thick shadows had gathered before him. They were solid, independent of any surface, and seemed to grow on top of each other in a writhing, struggling mess.

He turned the torch towards the creature. The darkness pulled the light in, swallowing it. Tendrils reached towards the torch. When they touched it, the bulb flickered and died. Frost coated the plastic cover, and Daniel choked out a cry as he dropped it.

He was alone with the darkness, trapped in the tower. He could see nothing except rioting layers of shadows. He could feel nothing except the cold.

The shadows were at his throat. The muscles constricted, strangling his breath. Daniel clutched at the vulnerable skin. He could feel the cold radiating from the shadows but couldn’t get under them. As he scrabbled, he touched the leather strap hung from his neck.

Daniel pulled out Mrs. Kirshner’s talisman. He could see the silver-wrapped vial. It wasn’t quite glowing, but the darkness couldn’t swallow it the way it had everything else in the room.

The shadows recoiled. Daniel lifted the talisman higher. The pressure around his throat relaxed, and he dragged in a ragged gasp. Moonlight filtered through the glass once again, and it revealed the creature that lived in the attic.

Part human, part monster, the figure was all horror. Black hair coursed around a woman’s twisted face. Her eyes flashed black, and when her lips parted, vicious teeth glinted.

“Move on, Eliza.” Daniel took a half step towards her, the vial held ahead of himself. He had no idea if the spectre could understand him, or even had the ability to follow his instructions, but it was the only thing he could think of through the stress. “Your time on earth is over. Move on.”

Terror and anger twisted the face. She flinched back from the talisman, retreating an inch at a time as Daniel crept forward. Then her body seemed to bulge. The inky shadows swirled like smoke, billowing and growing until she filled half the room. Her features distorted until they were unrecognisable as a human, and the bared teeth expanded into fangs.

“Move on.” Daniel’s words came out as a gasp. Every muscle in his body shook as freezing air radiated over him. He ignored his screaming instincts and inched closer, until his outstretched arm was inches from the swirling black mass.

Eliza exploded towards him. The impact slammed into Daniel’s chest. He heard glass break. Everything was darkness, motion, and fear, then he was falling. His limbs struggled for any kind of purchase, but they thrashed through empty air. Glimpses of the tower’s outside walls rushed past his eyes, followed by a flash of the nearing ground.

Then he was wrapped in the sound of feathers and the sensation of plucking talons. He felt pulled in every direction. There was no breath left in his body to scream. The motion and sound felt as though it would never end, but then he slammed into the ground, and lights burst across his vision.

Daniel blinked. He lay on the mossy earth below the tower, half tangled in stunted shrubs and vines. A ringing noise echoed in his ears, and his vision had grown blurry. He gagged when he tried to breathe, and twisted to the side.

His first thought was that he’d gone insane. A massive black bird fluttered across the ground as it tried to right itself. It was easily as big as Daniel. He gaped at it, horrified, before understanding clicked into place. Bran had caught him.

The bird flapped, and the massive wings gusted dirt and dead leaves over Daniel. Then suddenly Bran was in the bird’s place. His black hair hung in disarray, and his grey, papery skin looked nearly transparent in the moonlight. He crawled to Daniel and clutched his shoulder.

“What have you done?” More accusation than question, the words were wheezed through bared teeth. Bran’s blackened fingers carried no more weight than the feathers he’d just worn.

Daniel opened his mouth to answer, but his tongue felt numb. He rolled away from Bran and threw up.

“Well. You are not dead, at least.” Bran’s rasping voice was clipped and tight. “Can you sit up?”