Chapter 24

ChapterTwenty-Four

Moonlight played with the ends of her hair, and Browning let out a little grumble in her sling. They both didn’t want to be standing in the middle of Wildecliff during the nighttime. It had been hard enough finding the place, even with Alistair’s detailed instructions.

He’d given her every detail necessary to find her way through the city on her own. So detailed, in fact, that he had even mentioned certain colors of draperies inside of windows. Thea could imagine him walking this same path, counting his steps and noting every tiny thing she might see to make sure she safely got to his home.

But standing in front of the terrifying building made her want to turn right back around and retrace all those steps.

She’d thought this dark building was terrifying during the day, but it turned into its own beast during the night. The windows glared at her with bright yellow eyes. A churning noise echoed into the street from the belly of the home, likely from the kitchens, but her mind turned it into the growl of a beast. Waves of mist billowed away from the home as though the building had created its own weather phenomenon.

And yet, she had promised that she would try harder. Thea had promised to try again, if only because they could meet without the fear of running into his brothers or father.

She touched the tiny black line on her ring finger and whispered a prayer to the ancestors.

Browning held up a sprig of lavender, but she didn’t want to chew on it. She wanted to get through this without needing something or someone to help her. The house was terrifying, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t possible for her to do it on her own.

Sighing, she scrubbed a hand over her face and gently pushed the wart-covered hand back into the sling. “Stay hidden, Browning. I don’t want you getting hurt in there.”

He snuggled deeper into the sling as she opened the iron gate and walked up to the front door. All she had to do was knock. That was it. Alistair would be there on the other side, and he would make everything better.

They’d promised to marry each other, after all. They’d promised, and she wouldn’t go back on those words.

Swallowing hard, Thea struck her knuckles to the door once, and it swung open on its own. Did they not lock the door? As though they knew no one would dare enter the famed Orbweaver home without an invitation? And here she was. Standing there like an idiot without an address in her hand or anyone to announce her.

The interior of the home was worse than she’d imagined. The fog seemed to fill the house too. White mist reached up for her with bony hands, as though even the building wanted to shove her out. If it were like her own home, then she wouldn’t be surprised if the building could. Glimmering chandeliers hung from the ceiling, two of them leading to a giant stairwell that had seen better days. In her mind, the entire room smelled and felt like a crypt. Ancient, beautiful objects that never saw the light of day or eyes that appreciated them.

But then the mist parted, and Alistair walked around the corner. The half smile on his face was so sweet and so genuinely excited that she forgot how to breathe. He wanted her here. Even if the house didn’t.

He wore his usual dark pants and a white shirt. But this time, he also had on a long navy coat that came down to his knees. The collar stood straight around his neck, giving him a rather regal look even though his hair flopped in front of his eyes.

Opening his arms wide for her, he grinned as she ran to him. Thea struck him a little too hard, and they stumbled back a few steps together until he had fully wrapped her up. She felt his lips press against her hair in a kiss, and some of her fear eased. She took a deep breath of his woody scent, knowing he wouldn’t let anything happen to her in his terrifying house.

“You’re here,” he murmured against her. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“I wasn’t sure I would.” Already she imagined the mist of the house coiling up her legs, wrapping around her ankles, and dragging her back outside. “I don’t think the house wants me here.”

“The house doesn’t have an opinion. You’re feeling the dark magic in the basement. My father’s experiments have gotten rather... explosive, lately.”

Alistair drew back and smoothed his hand over the top of her head. He wrapped a strand of her hair around his finger, then set to work putting everything back in place as he seemed to so enjoy. And while he did that, Thea took her time counting the freckles on his cheeks. She had thought last time there were about four hundred, but she’d never had enough time to count all of them. Maybe he’d let her take a pen to them someday to mark all the ones she’d counted.

“Would you like a tour?”

“I think I’d like to get somewhere safe for a little while.” Thea had tried to put a brave face on for him, but this building...there was something wrong with it.

He looked like she’d asked him to stick a pin underneath his fingernail. “Uh, well. I suppose I could show you my bedroom, then?”

Oh, no. That was too forward. She flushed, her cheeks flaring so hot that it made even the tips of her ears hurt. “Is there anywhere else we could go first?”

He bit his lip, then offered, “The library, perhaps?”

Libraries were safe. The walls were always havens to so many ideas that they were usually easy enough for her to step into. She’d never been in a library that didn’t feel like it was a warm hug.

Thea nodded. “The library sounds good.”

She followed him down the hall, but the energy inside this house didn’t want her here. The darkness seemed to stretch for her, reaching out its long tendrils and sticking to her shoes. Slowing her down. Holding her still. Alistair held one of her hands carefully in his own. The other she stuck down into the sling so Browning could hold onto her finger.

They traveled down long hallways with rugs so thick she couldn’t hear her own footsteps. The black wallpaper sometimes changed into patterns that were barely there. Sometimes they were geometric; sometimes they looked like vines growing up and down the walls. The chandeliers, however, were always the same. Glowing orange orbs that flickered above her head when she walked underneath them.

There were no windows in the interior portion of the house. It seemed like the house was built for darkness to reign.

“The library,” Alistair said, gesturing with a wide sweep of his arm to an open doorway. “My father has the greatest collection in all of Wildecliff. Many scholars from the Academy come here because he has grimoires that are original copies. I’ve read some myself, but many of them are beyond me in skills of magic and curses.”

She stepped inside, expecting to be enveloped with the warmth of potential knowledge and years of people coming to this room for sanctuary. She’d expected a warm nook to tuck herself into with a cup of tea and a soft cushion where she could lose herself for hours.

That was not this room.

The library here was like a dead thing that still wheezed in breath through rattling ribs. All the books were bound with chains. And if they weren’t, they fluttered on the floor like butterflies dying on the cold stone. There was a large window, but it was covered in frost. She could only see the fragmented image of reality outside these icy walls.

Her breath fogged before her. “Why is it so cold?”

“Oh.” Alistair stumbled in front of her, frantically reaching into his pockets. “That’s the magic. My father’s spells either put off a lot of heat or a lot of freezing air. He’s chosen the latter because it’s easier to stay warm than it is to cool down. I had the brownies of the house make you something when you said you’d try coming here... Hold on. Where did I put it?”

She watched him pat down his long coat until he found the item in the inner pocket. Then he pulled out a bright blue hat, knitted by faerie hands, with splashes of colors all through it. It would be a little big for her, she thought, but it was the thought that counts.

“To keep your ears warm,” he said, then pulled it down over her hair. He took his time making sure he didn’t move a single lock into the wrong place.

It wasn’t wool. She didn’t know what kind of yarn the brownies had used because it was so soft against her ears. Like she was leaning against a rabbit. She ran her fingers over the woven edges, a simple design but one that would keep her very warm indeed.

She smiled, chewing on the corner of her lip. “I didn’t bring them anything! I should thank them for such a lovely gift.”

“Next time.” He grinned, so certain there would even be a next time when all Thea could think was that she never wanted to return to this horrible place. “The library, I take it, is not a safe place?”

She swallowed hard and shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

“We’ll try the kitchens.” He held out his hand for her to take, and she decided she’d let him take her through the entire house until she found a room where she could breathe.

The kitchens weren’t any better. The belching fireplaces made her head spin with fear. So he took her to the dining room, which felt as though she were about to be sacrificed at any moment. The drawing room where his father had his wine every night wasn’t any better. She imagined how many people had sat in each of those chairs, shaking in fear, and she couldn’t focus on anything but the whispering ghosts of their screams.

Finally, they ended up in front of his bedroom door, as he’d wanted her to see from the beginning. “Are you sure this is all right?” he asked.

She nodded and focused hard on the door as he swung it open. Cold air whipped around her head again, and she was certain this would be another problem, and yet...

“The window is nice,” she whispered as she walked into the room.

It was the only window in the house without a single touch of frost on it. And there was a fire crackling in the hearth. The faint pops of wood were merry rather than aggressive like the rest of the house. And there was Atlas. Sitting on a small stand with puffed-up feathers as though he wanted to look his best for her.

She tried very hard not to look over at the plush bed in the corner that could have easily fit three people. Her little cot at home seemed meager and small compared to that monstrosity. But it looked very comfortable, and after all the fear that had tightened every muscle in her body, she wondered if she could snuggle up in it and feel a little better. At least for a while.

She shouldn’t. Sure, they’d had their moments in the woods, but that felt as though they were wild and free. This was his home. A bed. It was so much more serious than what they had done before. At least, that’s how she felt about it.

Clearing her throat, she stepped up to the fire and pulled Browning out of his sling. “Warm up,” she said quietly as he hopped toward the fire.

The faint hush of fabric made her flinch, and she turned toward Alistair. He’d sat down on the bed, looking rather dejected.

They stared at each other, neither wanting to say what they were thinking. Finally, Alistair broke the silence. “You don’t like it here.”

“It’s just... just...” She struggled to find the right word but then blurted out, “Sad.”

He stiffened. “Sad?

“Well... Yes. This entire building feels like no one should live in it. Every corner of this house is so uninviting. I couldn’t be comfortable here if I tried, and even if I lived here with you, I’d be so terrified every time I walked around the corner.”

Thea wrapped her arms around her waist. She knew it was insulting to tell him all that. This was his childhood home, after all, and he’d said his father had trapped him in this horrible place. Her heart broke for him.

But there was no chance that she’d be able to live here. No matter how hard she tried to force herself to find a sense of ease within these walls.

He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his knees as he stared at the floor. “This has been my family’s home for generations. You would want for nothing while you live here. The servants would cater to your every need—“

“Servants?” She repeated the word as though it was poisonous. “This house isn’t so giant. I’d think the rest of you would know how to take care of it.”

“How do you think people in Wildecliff live?” He glared at her, and there was a spark in his eyes that looked more like his brothers’ than she’d ever seen before. “We aren’t living out in the wilds like simple farmers here. We have people to hire and do the work that we don’t have time for.”

“Everyone has time to clean,” she hissed. “You just don’t want to do it and you have enough money to pay someone else to do it for you.”

“Or perhaps there are greater aspirations in life than to till the earth until your hands bleed. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the calluses on your palms or the way your arms are far too defined for a woman. These are things that could change, though. I don’t judge you for them.”

“It sounds like you do.”

She didn’t know how to respond to this sudden anger. She hadn’t insulted him by calling his house sad. It was. No one could argue with that. And now it felt as though he wanted her to live with him because he wanted to change her.

She wouldn’t change living in this house. Thea knew that even if she moved to Wildecliff, she wouldn’t become one of those fine ladies with clean fingernails and hair pulled too tightly away from her face. Location didn’t change a person. Not when they already knew who they wanted to be.

Alistair sighed and scrubbed his hands down his face. “I didn’t want you to come here so we could argue.”

“Then why did you want me to come here?”

“So you could see how much better it is here! And yes, the house is not very kind, but we have working plumbing, servants to cook for us, electric lights, and you’d never have to work another day in your life. That has to be better than what your future in Waterdown is.”

There it was.

The truth.

She narrowed her eyes at him and laid it all out before them. “Do you think I’m lesser than you because I live in Waterdown?”

“No.”

“Do you think I am at the same level as your servants because I work on a farm to keep people fed?”

His ears turned red. “No. You know I don’t think that.”

“Then why do you want to change me?”

“I think the life I’m offering you here, no matter how different, would be better than what you currently have.” His words trailed off into a whisper at the end. Perhaps he knew that he’d toed a line he could never draw back from.

“I see,” she breathed. The anger in her chest hurt. It was like a dragon had burst to life inside her and then seized hold of her tongue. If he could say something he couldn’t take back, then so could she. “I think you’ve made it very clear that our differences might be too hard to overcome, Alistair. You’re the son of the richest family in Wildecliff, and I’m just the girl from over the wall.”

His jaw dropped open as he leapt up. “That’s not how I feel, and you know it.”

She shook her head and backed away from him before he caught hold of her. Because if he touched her, then she’d crumble. She deserved to be angry right now. She deserved to be mad at him.

“I’m going,” she whispered.

“You just got here.”

“And I don’t think I want to be here.” Thea scooped Browning up into her arms and refused to look Alistair in the eye. “I’m sorry.”

But she wasn’t. Not really.

Thea fled his house and felt every time a tendril of darkness shook off her shoulders. That haunted building would remain in her nightmares for the rest of her life, she feared.

And perhaps the loss of him as well.