Page 66 of A Dream of Stars and Curses

‘Why do you need my permission?’ I ask.

Kate cocks her head again. ‘Because I thought you might prefer to explain the situation yourself, at least as far as we have discussed it. I would like to invite them to your home to explain everything fully. I thought that better than repeating myself.’

I shake my head. ‘No, that’s okay. You call them.’

Understanding why our arguments happened doesn’t mean I can just talk to them like nothing happened. It’s too recent.

‘Go next door and get changed, if you like. I’ll make some preparations and then I’ll join you.’

I nod and stand, but stop myself before I can leave the room. ‘Isn’t it... I don’t know. Dangerous? To be alone?’

I hate how childish that sounds, but Kate gives me a sympathetic smile.

‘Not at all. Boggarts delight in ruining lives, but they don’t kill, at least not directly. You might find your shower water’s temperature fluctuating or that all your clothes smell of sweat, but you’ll be safe from any real harm. Besides, I won’t be long. I’ll be right over.’

I glance at Lady. ‘Can she stay here for now?’ I really hope her feeling off is just the boggart’s influence. If it is, she’ll be back to her old self by the end of today. I’ll go home, put on some clothes I left on the rack in the kitchen, and put the kettle on while we have yet another crisis meeting.

And before the day is done, everything will be alright again.

Kate gives my dog a reassuring ear scratch. ‘Of course.’

‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘Just let yourself in.’

I feel hopeful as I leave Kate’s. I won’t go upstairs because I don’t fully trust the stairs after the fire—is that something else the boggart did?—but it’s nice to be in my house again, to make tea in my own kitchen. If everything bad that happened recently is just down to the boggart messing with me, and Kate believes he can be reasoned with... there’s hope for me and Bonnie, me and Leverett, me and my job, Lady.

But before I’ve even shut the front door, I see a dark figure from the corner of my eyes. I turn my head and see Chiara leaning against the fireplace. A dark smile spreads on her lips when our eyes meet.

‘Welcome home, my toy.’

The last thing I see before I lose consciousness is her smile twisting into a grin.

My head is pounding when I come to. The rest of me feels alright, just a bit stiff. I’m a little scared to open my eyes in case Chiara is right in front of me, but I don’t hear anything, so I risk a peek.

I’m alone and lying on concrete. That explains why my head is hurting so much. I get up, eyes still half-shut against the pain in my head, and am surprised that nothing is stopping me—no chains or ropes around my wrists, nothing tied around my ankles. I blink and take in the room. It’s a basement—a large basement, but there’s nothing special about it except for the floor. The bit I woke up on is concrete, but there’s a hardwood floor in front of me. From my position, it almost looks like a stage. It’s just missing the chairs.

Blood rushes into my head so fast I feel faint. What if it is a stage? Leverett said Chiara toys with her victims, tortures them before she finally kills them.

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