Page 2 of Gothikana

If her mother was a freak, then maybe so was she.

After all, sometimes she heard the voices, too.

CHAPTER 1

Corvina

Corvina had neverheard of the University of Verenmore. But then again, she hadn’t heard of most normal things, not with her upbringing. However, nobody else had heard of it either.

Holding the letter that she got weeks ago in her hands — a letter written in ink on browned, thick paper that smelled as old, beloved books did — she perused the words again.

Dear Miss Clemm,

The University of Verenmore is pleased to extend our offer of admission to you. For over a century, we have enlisted students who come from special backgrounds to attend our esteemed institution. Your name was referred to us by the Morning Star Psychiatric Institute.

We would like to offer you a full scholarship to our associate undergraduate course at Verenmore. This degree will give you access to some exclusive circles going forward, and open many doors for you in theworld. We believe with your academic records and personal history, you would be a good fit for our institution.

While we understand that this must be a difficult time for you, a decision must be made. Kindly revert to this letter at the attached address for further information. If we do not receive any response from you within 60 days, we will regretfully rescind the offer.

We hope to hear from you.

Regards,

Kaylin Cross,

Recruitment Specialist,

University of Verenmore

Corvina had never received a letter, much less one as bizarre as this.

And it was very bizarre.

She was a twenty-one-year-old girl who’d been home-schooled and secluded her whole life by her mother. Why would a university want an undergraduate student way past the normal age, one who didn’t have anything close to conventional schooling? And who even sent handwritten letters anymore?

Weird thing was, no one knew about the university. She’d tried to find out something about it — asking the chief doctor at the facility, using her town library’s computer, and no one knew anything. Verenmore didn’t exist anywhere except on the map, a tiny blip, a small town by the same name in the valley of Mount Verenmore. That was all.

The school existed somewhere on the mountain that civilians weren’t usually allowed on. And she knew this because her taxi driver — a very kind man called Larry — had just told her so as he drove them up the mountain.

‘Not a lot of folks ’round here who go up to that castle ’nymore.’ Larry continued his barrage of information, winding the small private black car up the slightly inclined road. Corvina had found him right outside the train station when she’d come out. It had taken her two trains — one from Ashburn and the next from Tenebrae — and over twelve hours to get to Verenmore. Larry had been surprised when she’dgiven him her destination on the mountain, to the point he’d prayed before starting the car.

‘And why is that?’ Corvina asked, watching the little town get smaller in the distance as lush green swallowed her vision. She wasn’t used to conversation but needed to know as much as she could about the school she had agreed to go to. Not that she’d had anything better to do.

Living in the tiny cottage she’d grown up in, making jewellery and candles, and doing readings to earn, had become monotonous — especially when nobody in town except the old librarian had ever treated her with anything but suspicion. The letter of acceptance had come as a sign from the universe, and her mama had always told her never to ignore those. Corvina had always wanted to experience a school for the social nuances, study with other humans around her, and learn more about people who knew nothing about her. A clean slate to write whatever she wanted on it, however she wanted it. It was contradictory since she was a loner, but she was an observer. Whenever she got the chance, she enjoyed people-watching.

‘Dunno.’ The driver shrugged his slight shoulders under a thin beige jacket. ‘Tales ’bout the place, I reckon. Say the castle’s haunted.’

Corvina snorted. She doubted that. Old places and things, in her experience, had a tendency to get labelled as haunted over time. But she also wanted to keep her mind open.

‘And is it? Haunted, I mean?’ she asked, still curious to know more about the mysterious university.

The driver glanced back at her in the rear-view mirror before focusing on the road again. ‘You stayin’ at the castle or visitin’, miss?’

‘Staying,’ she told him, glancing down at the letter in her hand and stuffing it in the brown leather bag that had belonged to her grandmother. It had been the only thing she had got from anyone besides her mother.

‘I’d say keep your wits ’bout you.’ The driver concentrated as the incline got steeper. ‘Dunno if the place’s haunted but somethin’s not right with it.’

Silence reigned after that for a few minutes. Corvina rolled her window down slightly, looking out at the natural, incredible beauty of the mountain. The sight was unlike anything she had ever seen before. Where she came from, the woods had been more yellow and the air more humid.

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