Page 26 of Anathema

“Probably.”

“Well, now you’re awake, I can finally celebrate the victory of seeing Agatha absolutely beside herself with anger.” The worry and grief in her eyes from moments ago cut to a wicked expression of satisfaction. “Thought she was going to have to return that money to Mr. Moros. She broke three good vases, according to Lolla.” She chuckled and plucked the brush from the dresser, drawing it carefully through my hair. “Just imagining such a thing brings me joy.”

“Happy to have obliged.” I winced as she tore through a knot. “And Mr. Moros?”

“It seems you’ve not rid yourself of him. He’s come to check on you every day, leaving chocolates and flowers.” She gathered up my hair and brushed the roots, chopping at them with haste. “I hope you don’t mind, I ate quite a few of the chocolates. Had to make sure they weren’t poisoned, you know.”

“I’m sure.”

“Honestly, Maeve. I could cry of happiness right now.” Without warning, arms enveloped me from behind, the pressure at my throat damn near choking me. “You looked absolutely terrible for a minute there. I feared …. Well, with father having …” The wobble in her voice told me she was holding back more tears. “And being here … alone …”

“I’m here.” I gripped her arm still banded at my throat. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’ll go get you that broth. Stay put.”

I nodded, and the moment she released me and scurried out of the room, I turned back to the mirror, staring at my eye. “Duoculos,” I whispered.

The sound of a shout snapped my attention toward the window, and I ambled that way, catching sight of two boys, perhaps no more than twelve or thirteen, across the dirt road at the edge of the forest. Though difficult to see from that distance, it appeared as though they were stomping on something. I squinted, noting a black object beneath the boot of the boy wearing a brown hat, and my heart shot into my throat when it occurred to me they were near the winterberry bush where I’d buried the raven.

“Oh, no.” I shoved the window open on a creak, and a rush of cold air nearly knocked me backward. “Hey! Hey, you! Get away from there!”

The boys ignored me, keeping on with their violent stomps. A dark and wicked anger stirred in my gut. I opened my mouth to scream, yet nothing but a high-pitched screech escaped me. I slapped my hand over my mouth and backed out of the window, ducking below the sill.

What in seven hells was that?

A peek over the sill showed the boys stomping away, clearly not having heard me, at all. Or perhaps they had and didn’t care.

But then they stopped, and one of the boys turned toward the forest behind them, as if he’d heard something.

I pushed to my knees, curious.

A flash of black flew past the boys and up into the sky. Looming over them, what looked like a colossal-sized raven flapped wings that must’ve spanned the width of a small cottage. My jaw creaked open as I took in the size of it. The creature exploded into a flock of ravens that cawed as they scattered off.

A scream jarred me out of my staring toward the sky, and I glanced down to find one of the boys clutching the edge of the archway, as though something was pulling him by his feet into the woods. His friend grabbed his shirt, tugging him the other way.

He lost his grip and flew backward, the impact knocking his hat to the ground.

I blinked, and the other boy was gone.

A cold sensation moved through me as I stared down at that now empty archway, with its ominous bones. An itch at my arm had me mindlessly scratching around my wound.

The other boy pushed to his feet and peered into the forest.

The itch turned to a burning sensation.

“Don’t do it,” I whispered, watching him step closer. Closer. The scratching of my arm became frantic. “Don’t do it.”

“Don’t do what?” At the sound of Aleysia’s voice, I jumped back, and it was then I noticed the inflamed skin around my wound and the blood trickling into the grooves of the scar.

I glanced toward the forest again, to find the other boy was no longer there. Only a flock of ravens pecking around the grass. I’d have thought the forest had taken him, too, but there was no sign of his hat, nor the black object they’d been stomping. No upturned dirt from where I could see.

“I thought … there were boys at the woods,” I said, the confusion in my head carrying into my voice. “I saw one of them get taken.” It must’ve been the lingering shock that kept me frozen, staring. That scene looping inside my mind. “They were screaming. Did you hear the screams, Aleysia?”

“No.”

Surely, she would’ve. As thin as the cottage walls were, we’d heard strange noises coming from the forest a number of times.

“By chance, did you happen to see a … exceptionally large bird that … exploded into smaller birds?”

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