Craven Manor(70)

“Please. You still have a chance. I can keep her occupied for a few minutes.”

The chewing noises fell quiet. For several painful heartbeats, the only thing Daniel heard was the rain rushing through the foliage. Then a low, slow whining noise came from the shadows. Daniel had been trying not to look at it, but as the sound grew louder, he couldn’t stop himself.

Eliza had grown immense. Her shoulders brushed some of the trees’ higher branches, and her sides pressed against the trunks surrounding her. Bright-red gore sparkled on her teeth. Her single eye seemed to shine as it rolled back in her head. A shudder ran through the writhing shadows, then she thrashed her head to one side.

Daniel scuttled back and bumped into Bran. As another keening, screeching noise escaped the monster, the need to hide overwhelmed him, but there was nowhere to go. Instead of trying to run, he ducked down and pressed his good arm across his face.

The wail grew in pitch and volume. Trees creaked as Eliza lurched into them. Her massive claws dug into the ground, and as they twitched, they tore up chunks of earth.

Flecks of something dusty brushed over Daniel’s cheek. They felt like moth wings, and he impulsively swatted at them. One of the shapes stuck to his hand and crumbled when he flexed his fingers. Like a scrap of burnt paper, it was thin and fragile, and the rain made it disintegrate into soot-grey clumps.

More of the shapes brushed past Daniel. They clung to his hair and clothes, and he shuddered at the sensation. He knew where they were coming from, but it was horrible to watch the monster, Eliza, disintegrate. She threw her head back, the neck twisting farther than should have been possible, and as she screamed, the muscles in her throat rippled then tore. They billowed away, and the shadows became soot as they left her body. It clumped on the ground, in the branches, and over the grim statues.

She’s dying. Daniel squinted against the rush of black fragments. Eliza seemed to be crumpling in on herself, as though someone had put a magnet inside her chest and her body was being sucked into it. Claws broke into shards. Her face collapsed. Her limbs twitched a final time, then a billow of black smoke exploded out from her. Daniel gagged as it washed over him. It seemed never-ending, as though the world had been swallowed in the heavy, cold dust. Daniel squeezed his eyes closed and tried to hold his breath, even as he convulsed with coughs.

As the rain beat through it, the air gradually cleared. Daniel’s lungs stopped burning. He blinked his eyes open and saw the scene had been blanketed with a layer of soot. A mound of it rested where Eliza had last stood. Rain was turning it into a clay-like mud, and a bright, metallic shape emerged in the heap’s centre as the soot was washed away.

Daniel scooted forward and used his good hand to pluck the talisman out of the charred fragments. It felt warm. How about that. Kyle must have put it in his pocket. And Eliza swallowed it when she consumed him.

There was nothing left of either Kyle or Eliza. Daniel slumped back, his chest aching and his head foggy. He should have been elated or at least relieved, but instead, he just felt numb. He clutched the talisman to his chest.

The horrific, crawling sensations had stopped moving through his veins. Daniel glanced at his damaged arm but grimaced and looked away again. The skin had turned shades of mottled grey and black. He couldn’t bend the fingers. But the fungus had stopped spreading. He supposed he was grateful for that.

Bran had been coated by the sticky black soot. Daniel returned to his side and pressed his fingers to the man’s neck. The thin skin felt as cold as marble, and there was no sign of a pulse. For all Daniel knew, Bran might not have had a pulse for decades. The man’s face was slack, though. He looked peaceful. Daniel pulled up the corner of his T-shirt and tried to wipe the grime off Bran’s face. His own clothes were covered in the same soot, though, and he only succeeded in rubbing it around. He exhaled and dropped his head.

Annalise appeared at his side. He could feel an icy chill rolling off her, worsening the shivers he’d developed, but he didn’t pull away. She was frightened and lonely. She needed friendship.

“I won’t leave you,” he murmured. “You won’t have to be alone.”

She made no indication of hearing him.

Daniel sat there, surrounded by the broken statues, for what felt like hours. The fire’s glow had disappeared from the tops of the trees. The rain slowly eased into a trickle. Eventually, dawn touched the edge of the sky with the promise of light. It wasn’t much, but after being nearly blind for most of the night, Daniel was relieved to see his surroundings again.

He lifted the bloated arm. It was impossible to recognise as a part of him. His legs still shook, but he thought they would carry his weight. He shuffled onto his knees.

“I’m going to get inside,” he said to Annalise. “Did you want to come?”

She stayed sitting, her arms wrapped around her knees and her face hidden under the mane of fine hair. Daniel swallowed and looked back at Bran. He needed to get somewhere dry. As the rain thinned and dawn broke, a horrific chill burrowed into him, and hypothermia became a serious threat. If he didn’t move soon, he might never stand again.

He imagined walking away and leaving Bran in the garden. He pictured the crows coming back and pecking at the body. Insects teeming over him. The soot running under his eyelids, between his teeth, into his pores. He couldn’t stomach it.

Daniel dug a hand under Bran’s shoulders and lifted. He hadn’t expected to be able to carry the man, especially not when his muscles were so drained, but he’d forgotten how insubstantial Bran was. He weighed no more than he had as the thin black cat. Daniel reached his damaged hand under Bran’s knees and hoisted him up, staggered, then stabilised himself.