Page 84 of In Death's Hands
“A cleaning is needed, follow me.”
I hear a woman’s voice answer, but it’s too low for me to pick up the words. The sounds are growing fainter, and despite my entire body yelling at me to get the hell out, I cannot get the red glow out of my mind. I squeeze my eyes shut for a second before angling myself to look inside. All I see is part of a table with the same pitcher from before, only the red thread is no longer attached to it. I make sure to control my breathing to keep it quiet, which is how I hear the faintest moan yet. The sound sends pain shooting deep inside my chest. It’s like I can feel the despair of whoever is inside. I push the door open just a tiny bit to see what will happen, and more of the room comes into view. The light is from a burning fire in a massive fireplace on the left, next to which is another opened door leading to a dark corridor. My throat tightens as another whimper comes from the right, just behind the door.
Stepping inside the room is not a conscious decision—it’s more like something has taken over my body—and when I come to, the door is wide open and here I am, standing inside. My gaze immediately finds the source of those moans, and my heart breaks into a million pieces.
A person with light brown skin and shorn hair is crouched in a ball in the corner, almost smacked by the back of the door I just opened wider. I cry out and reach for the trembling, too-thin body dressed only in old rags, but I’m stopped before I can get there.
“What are you doing here?” the voice from earlier seethes, and I gasp at the tightness of the man’s hold on my upper arm.
When I look back, I recognise him as Gilfred, the man Celestina ordered around in her stupid throne room. I try to shake him off, but I don’t even manage to move.
“Don’t make me repeat myself,rat.”
Rat? I frown. Bloody hell, I’m going to kick his arrogant ass to next Tuesday. “I’m not a rat, you wanker.”
He wrinkles his nose. “You all are. Little beasts scurrying in the dark. Disgusting.” And the arse has the nerve to shiver! “Now you’ll come with me and explain yourself to the Supreme.”
Yeah, that’s not happening. “I got lost,” I lie without a flicker of remorse. “I saw a woman enter here and wanted to ask for directions back to my room.”
“Yourroom? Petulant child! Those areherrooms. Her palace. Her sanctuary fromyourkind.”
It’s my turn to frown. This is beyond crazy. “Well, okay then. I was looking for my way back toherroom,” I say, unable to hide my contempt, “when I saw that woman and then heard someone in pain. What’s wrong with them?” I try to look at the person, who doesn’t even seem to be aware of our presence, but Gilfred’s grip on me is so tight I can’t even turn to check on them.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he answers firmly, and I’m pretty sure my expression calls out his bullshit because he sighs heavily, his disgustingly warm breath brushing against my cheeks, and adds, “It’s a tragic story that does not concern you. We are doing the best we can, and Durcia, the woman you so inelegantly followed, is here for their care. Now let’s go, you have some explaining to do.”
He moves towards the door, but I resist. I huff and puff as I pull and could swear my arm will be ripped from my body before Gilfred will let go of it. He laughs proudly at my vain efforts, and I see red. Not just the anger bursting behind my lids but the thread at the person’s foot. It crawls back and forth on the floor in front of them and I gasp in shock. What is it doing? I see the thread try to inch forward like a worm on the dirt but stop before it can touch the person rocking back and forth, their moaningan uninterrupted, haunting melody echoing in the room. It’s like the thread wants to reach them but can’t.
I’m being dragged away, and in a last-ditch effort to get free, I throw my whole body weight backwards. I only manage to slam my lower back against the table, pain radiating through my spine as the clay pitcher falls to the ground and shatters loudly. The room is suddenly quiet, and it takes me a second to realise that the whimpers have stopped. I meet Gilfred’s furious gaze before looking towards the person on the floor, expecting to see only a rocking mass of flesh and bones, but eyes with striking white pupils find me instead. The person—I still can’t tell if they’re a man or a woman—is looking straight at me. Their round eyes stare at me without really seeming to see me. I feel both seen and invisible as they slowly start rocking again. I’m being pulled away by a grumbling Gilfred when white eyes fall on red thread. My heart stops when they freeze. They can see the thread! No one else seems to have seen them so far. They look back at me and a spark goes off behind the white. Shivers erupt all over my body and I think they’re about to move their arm, but I’m pulled out of the room before I can see more.
“The disrespect!” I don’t catch anything else of Gilfred’s rant because I’m too focused on what I saw. I don’t know what happened to that person in there, but they could see the same thread I’ve been seeing lately. It cannot be a coincidence. I need to get back in there and talk to them. I need—
“Let me go, you brute!” I yell, the frustration clawing at my throat. But he keeps walking as if unencumbered despite pulling me behind him. My arm is already hurting and I’m sure I’ll have bruises the shape of his fingers for days. Enough is enough. I fake a stumble, forcing him to turn my way slightly, and kick his shinhard. His curse echoes in the dark corridor, but he only loosens his hold a fraction. I kick again, aiming at the exact samespot, and I see his other hand barrel towards my face. I duck, kick again and run as if my life depends on it, because I’m pretty sure it does. He bellows, and I hear footsteps behind me, forcing me to push farther, faster. I rush through the various turns, and despite my fears, I instinctively remember the path to safety.
My bare feet keep hitting the ground, my lungs on fire, until I finally reach the last turn that will take me to the room. I need to find Nathan, I need to tell—Hmph!
“Whoa there, sunshine. You okay?”
I barrelled straight into Atys’ chest, and he gently steadies me. I look behind me, but Gilfred isn’t there. I swear I still hear footsteps echoing in my head, but maybe I lost him? Although, it won’t take long for him to find me again; I made no secret of where I was heading.
“Liv?” I close my eyes at the relief coursing through my veins when I hear Nathan’s voice. “What happened?”
I rush to him, Turan at his side. “They’re keeping someone prisoner!”
“What?” He frowns as he looks at me frantically, searching for any sign of hurt, I’m sure.
I feel Atys join us but stay focused on Nathan. “We have to help them!” I grab his hand to drag him back, a sense of urgency clawing at me.
“Liv, wait.” Nathan wraps his arm around my shoulders and gently leads me back inside the room despite my protests.
I keep looking back, but no one is coming for me, and then Atys closes the door and all I see is their concerned faces, which I want to smack. What don’t they get? “They are keeping someone trapped. We have to get them out!”
“Who did you see?” Nathan asks.
“I don’t know!” I start pacing, needing to move to get this buzzing thing beneath my skin under control. “I followed a thread, the same one I saw in the cave, to this room and saw someone on the floor, like, like a discarded piece of trash, and then Gilfred caught me and was all, ‘You don’t belong here, you’re a rat, I hate you, blah blah blah.’”
Nathan and Atys exchange a frown but seem more confused than alarmed.
“What thread?” asks Turan, her narrowed eyes jumping from me to Nathan to Atys and back again, and I realise I’d forgotten that they didn’t tell her about everything that happened in the cave. They didn’t tell her I was the cause of their vision.
