Page 109 of Tales of a Monstrous Heart
‘Alma,’ I hissed as I moved back the way I’d come, wondering if I’d missed her in one of the rooms. Only to take a different turn to end up in a dark hallway, walls stained with soot, what remained of the wallpaper curling away. Nolamps, just the bitterness of winter air as I grasped my elbows, breath misting before me.
Faced not with the rest of the hallway, but hanging fabric that billowed, covering the wooden scaffolding beyond in the ruined section of the house.
‘Alma?’ I called out. The cloth flapped sharply, almost beckoning in the breeze.
I grasped the fabric, seeing nothing but the charred remains beyond. Sharp burnt wood and darkness. A piano leaning drunkenly to one side with only two legs.
Here, the wind hissed past me, brushing my skin like a physical, icy touch. A sniggered hiss of laugher followed. A scuttle that reminded me of those ruins.
I dropped the fabric, turning, but there was nothing.
My heart pounded against my ribs as I reached out to touch the charred wood panelling next to me. Feeling the same bite of that magic I’d felt earlier when Emrys had given the wood chip to me, the roughness of where the fire had tried to devour it but there was something else.
A horrid consuming pain, agony streaking through my fingertips that didn’t belong to me.
A wetness ran between my fingers and a hideous groaning, almost human, sent me stumbling from the charred wood as I looked down at my hand. Smears of red covered my white gloves and the copper tang of blood filled my nose.
The shadowy soot-coated wall seeped with it, catching in the cobwebs before it dripped down to the ash covered floorboards.
Run.
‘Miss.’
A short cry left my lips, and I spun round to see the decrepit, stooped housekeeper, hands clasped before her. ‘Is everything all right?’
I panted, eyes darting to my hands, almost holding them out in a silent plea for help, only to see they were just trembling. No blood. No pain. Just white satin.
I turned back to the wall. Nothing but charred wood and dust.
I was losing my mind.
‘You shouldn’t be in this section of the house. It’s dangerous,’ she continued sharply. Oblivious or uncaring of my madness.
‘S-sorry,’ I stuttered, feeling the wetness of tears as they ran down my cheeks. Mad. I’d gone mad.
Ashamed, I rushed past her. Back the way I’d come, uncaring as I started to run, finding the stairs and taking them two at a time. Not slowing until I found my room, entered, and locked the door before clambering through the wardrobe, uncaring that my gown snagged on the old wood.
I rushed out into the study, the house leading me to the kitchen stairs. I tripped on my skirts getting down them, desperately following the murmur of voices, skidding to a halt at the bottom.
‘Alma.’ Her name left me like a plea. Seeing her sat before the fire, smiling at something William had said. Dark curls were pinned in a relaxed fashion on top of her head, wearing her simple grey day dress over her very mortal form.
‘Kat?’ She frowned, standing and dropping her mending back into the basket at her feet. ‘What’s wrong?’
I charged towards her, unable to catch my breath until I had hold of her.
‘Why were you over there?’ I demanded, hurt burning in my chest that she’d play such games. Those foolish tears blurring my vision.
‘Over where?’ She frowned, eyes darting to the cluttered kitchen table next to us, pages scattered across it. The remains of a small dinner, still-steaming cups of tea and slices of cake.
I shook my head. ‘I – I saw …’
What did I see? Nothing.
‘Sit down, Kat, you’re terribly pale.’ William suddenly had hold of my arm, trying to pull me down, but I shrugged him off.
‘I saw you in Fairfax Manor,’ I accused. ‘You were there.’
Her eyes went wider with worry as she shook her head. ‘I’ve been here, Kat. William has been helping me with all the notes you left.’ She indicated to the table.
