Craven Manor(64)

“I’m insane?” Kyle’s laugh was cracked and raspy. He dropped the yellow jug, and it made a sloshing sound as it hit the floor. “Take a look in the mirror. And I don’t want a backpack, you idiot. I’m after what I’m owed. The gold. That freak threw me out of a window and screwed up my shoulder. I’m entitled to compensation. Just tell me where it is, and we can avoid any other trouble, yeah?”

They took a third step back, trapped in a stalemate. Daniel could clearly see what he’d already started to suspect in the hospital; Kyle had become irrational and obsessive. The hungry light in his eyes was unfamiliar. He would have never thrown away his sense of self-preservation before the accident, no matter how great the reward. But the fall had damaged his mind, and all he cared about anymore was getting the golden coins.

“Okay.” Daniel looked over Kyle’s shoulder, towards the open door. He didn’t know how fast Eliza was moving. If he was quick, it might not be too late to corral her back inside the mansion. “I’ll give you all the gold I have. But first I need your help. A woman named Eliza ran through the door just a moment ago. She looks like… like a monster. We have to get her back inside the manor. I can’t tell you how important it is. If you help me, I’ll get you everything I have as a reward.”

He’d been too focussed on the door. Kyle took advantage of his distraction and closed the space between them, his other fist rising. Daniel ducked to avoid the blow, but his balance had been thrown off, and his legs fell out from underneath him. They collapsed to the ground, Kyle on top of him, and Daniel gasped as the air was forced from his lungs.

“Oh, you need help all right.” Kyle sneered, his mouth stretched into a demented smile. He gripped Daniel’s shoulders, pulled them up, then shoved them back down, cracking his skull against the tile floor. “A whole, huge lotta help.”

Daniel’s vision turned black.





Chapter Twenty-Nine





Daniel groaned and rolled to his side. Lights flashed across his eyes, and nausea made him retch, but there was nothing in his stomach to bring up. Audio distortions dug into his skull, making him shudder. It sounded like static. He wished it would stop; it was hurting his head. But as he lay still with his eyes squeezed closed against the lights, the sound only grew louder.

Not static… crunching leaves?

He lay on the marble floor. The cold tile felt good against his flushed skin and aching head, but the dry leaves dug into his cheek. His left arm hurt. A thick, unpleasant smell pushed through the scent of dust and decay and made the migraine throb twice as bad.

Gasoline. Kyle was carrying a plastic bottle. Did he spill it when he dropped it?

Daniel cracked his eyelids open. The lights redoubled, flashing white and yellow, and Daniel’s scrambled mind put the pieces together. He lurched to his knees and instantly regretted it as the migraine slammed his skull hard enough to make him gag again. This time, when he inhaled, smoke itched at his lungs.

He lit a fire. The madman’s trying to burn the house down.

Daniel couldn’t have been unconscious for more than a minute or two. The fire was still in its infancy but spreading quickly along gasoline trails. Kyle had doused circles through the dry leaves and led the flames to the decaying chairs beside the fireplace then tipped the candelabrum over to light it. Daniel didn’t know if there was enough kindling to spread the fire to the rest of the building. He didn’t want to find out. He stood, begging his feet to carry his weight, and staggered. The salt bag was still slung around his shoulders, weighing him down, but he didn’t want to drop it yet.

Flames licked close to his boots. Daniel stamped on them, crushing the leaves they were consuming, but all he managed was to shoot embers out like miniature fireworks.

He covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve and tried to blink through the haze. The fire was too widespread to give him hope that he could put it out. It had already caught on two of the long tattered curtains at the back of the room. Smoke filled the space, making Daniel cough, and the thinning oxygen left him dizzy.

I’ve got to get out. Daniel rotated, hunting for Bran. He tried to call the man’s name but choked on the air.

The sickening odour of burning feathers built into the bitter smoke. Daniel turned towards it and found the scene of the fight, where the crow’s plumage had been torn out. The feathers were melting in the flames. Daniel staggered through them and found the black cat lying on the tiles. He didn’t stir even when the fire licked close to him, but his chest rose in small gasps.

“Bran!” Daniel knelt at the cat’s side and nudged its head. Oxygen deprivation was making it hard to think and see. The cat didn’t move. Its eyes were closed, but its jaw hung open a fraction. The tiles were splattered with the crow’s dark blood, but Daniel couldn’t see any sign of cuts on the cat’s body. Even so, something was very wrong with Bran. Daniel eased one arm under the cat. He cradled its head in his elbow and tried to keep the rest of its body level as he held it close to his chest. Then he stood and ran through the growing flames.

Instead of subsiding as the leaves were consumed, the blaze had grown larger. Its heat made sweat run down Daniel’s forehead and back, and every breath made his throat and lungs ache as moisture was sucked out of the air.

The front door was still propped open. Daniel didn’t know if Kyle had left or ventured farther into the building. It seemed insane to light a fire unless he was about to leave, but on the other hand, Kyle wouldn’t want to return to the town empty-handed.