Page 23 of Court of Shadows
The woods are no place for you tonight, child. Turn back.
I did not relish the thought of a woman’s disembodied voice living inside me, and so far it had not protected me from anything at all. Sparrow and Finch had not harmed me, though admittedly this did seem like a far worse circumstance. I hesitated, clutching the knife, wondering if now was the time to listen to that voice before it was too late. A chill ran through my bones and I swiveled to look back at Coldthistle. Nobody had followed and I did not see any Residents watching me from the windows. The place looked dead, just a black and shadowed husk that seemed as unwelcoming as the forest. The frogs and insects chirped louder, screeching like a bow singing across a too-tight string. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Danger. I would go inside, I thought, I would heed that warning voice at last.
But then the cry came again and I gasped, spinning and plunging into the forest.
Mary.
Chapter Fifteen
Branches sharp and stinging clawed at my face, but I knew my purpose now and nothing would stop me.
Mary was hurt. Mary was in danger. I would not let her slip through my grasp. Knife still in hand—for who could say what had given her cause to cry?—I followed the sound of her voice whenever it rose again. She had ceased calling for help and instead wept softly. My heart ached, and I panted, running, ignoring the burn in my chest and the cutting branches scraping at my cheeks.
The forest was deeper than it looked from a distance, but I soon reached a tiny clearing. Thank God for the moonlight, else I might have stumbled and broken my ankle as the ground dipped into a shallow divot. A few larger rocks were strewn around the clearing, and there was Mary, kneeling, clinging to one of those boulders. I ran toward her, elated and afraid, then dropped to her side. Her face lit up as she caught sight of me and she flung her arms around my neck, still crying.
“Louisa! You came!” She held me tightly and I held her back.
“Are you well? Did you fall?” I held her at arm’s length, inspecting her from head to foot. She had her same wild brown hair and green eyes, and those freckles clustered thickly over her nose, the same gentle Irish lilt to her voice. Her garments were travel stained and her hem and boots were caked with mud,as if she had walked a long distance. A light lavender cloak was bunched around her neck and shoulders, and she used it to dab her wet face. Her cheeks were too hollow, as if she had gone hungry, and it made her eyes look only larger and more innocent.
“I tripped,” she said, and gave a weak laugh. “So clumsy, can you believe it? This close to the house and I had to get tangled in my own feet.”
“Is your leg badly hurt?” I asked. It didn’t look twisted or swollen, but then her skirts hid most of her lower half. “Where did you come from? I went to the spring to summon you ages ago; did something go wrong?”
Mary gave a relieved laugh and wiped more at her face, then leaned against the rock and gazed into my eyes. She reached up and touched my hair, and I felt a surge of hope. I had not failed her completely. She was back, and now things might be the slightest bit more normal, if normal existed at Coldthistle House.
“You were perfect,” Mary assured me, taking my hand and squeezing it. “I was stuck in the Dusk Lands, it was just dreadful, and then I heard you call me back, call me through. But... I wasn’t ready to come back. I needed time. Time for myself.”
I nodded and looked away, a little shy. “Of course. I’m... I’m terribly nosy, I’m sorry. After what happened with Lee... Well. Nobody could expect you to be jumping at the chance to return. I’m sure I’m the last person you wanted to come to your aid.”
Mary seemed calmer and began to shimmy up the rock, putting careful pressure on her left foot. I jumped up and helped, letting her lean against my side as she stood. She winced, but otherwise looked ready to be upright.
“You came,” she said softly. “That’s what matters. Oh, I’m sure my leg is not as bad as I thought. I’m just so tired.... It was a long way. I thought the walk would help me, you know, help to put things right in my brain.”
“You walked all the way from Waterford? That... How?”
She giggled and swatted my shoulder. “No, Louisa, not all the way. I wanted to walk the last bit to...” Mary chewed over her answer for a long moment and then shrugged. “I wanted to walk the fields, get a feel for my home again.”
“In the dead of night?” I teased.
Mary’s answer was cut short. Her eyes widened as we both heard a bloodcurdling call emanating from deep in the woods. We froze, looking at one another. I had never heard anything like it—a high, unearthly wail, almost the scream of a Resident but less hollow, filled with the raw throatiness of an animal. It was not a wolf, or if it was, it was an unnatural one.
“I have a knife,” I whispered. “But let us hasten; you are in no fit state to fend off an animal....”
“Hurry,” Mary agreed with a little hiccuping cry, pulling on my shoulder.
The shrill animal scream came again, and closer, and my spine rippled, warning me, primal fear ofwhatever the hell thatwastaking over. Heavy footsteps shook the clearing and the trees behind us as I tried my best to carry her toward the house. The thing was running now and Mary forgot her injury, taking my hand and yanking me across the clearing.
“We must hurry,” she shrieked, panting. “D-do something, Louisa, you must change, change into a bear, into anything—”
“Can you shield us?” I was panicking. A bear? How could I possibly do that? I could hardly change a spoon into a sad little knife! “Are you too exhausted?”
“I—I can’t. I—”
The creature broke through the trees and into the clearing, crushing a sapling under its massive foot with ease. My instinct to run was overtaken by sheer terror as a beast, upright as a man but furred as a wolf, crashed into the open. I opened my mouth to scream, huddling against Mary as she, too, stared in openmouthed horror at the creature. It was taller than a large man by at least a yard. Ripples of scarred muscle burst through its brown-black fur in places, and its face was pointed, almost fox-like. Narrow, glittering purple eyes found us at once, shining brighter as it chose its prey. I was trembling so fiercely I could hardly stand, but I did what I could, shoving Mary behind me, shielding her with my shaking body.
My eyes traveled slowly from its face to its hands, those, too, like a man’s but longer, capped with razor-like claws. A black sash around its middle rippled as it went low and then pounced, leaping toward us with a snarl. We must have both screamedbut I couldn’t hear my own voice, not as its thick arm collided with my shoulder, knocking me to the ground.
There was a ringing in my ears as I tried to sit up, pain dulled by fear as I stumbled away from the tree I had hit and raised the knife. The creature had rounded on Mary, ignoring me completely, raising one of its clawed hands and preparing to strike.
