Page 62 of A Curse of Salt

Aron and Una looked up, springing apart when they saw me approaching. I opened my mouth to greet them, but Una hurried past without a word, tears gleaming in her eyes.

Aron offered me an apologetic smile. ‘Later, lass,’ he mumbled, retreating and disappearing down the stairs.

A sadness swirled in their wake, one I almost understood. I touched a hand to my lips, wondering just how many lives had been torn apart by the broken world of the Blood Rose.

Enough, I told myself firmly. I didn’t need to add mine to the list.

19

The second I woke, I knew something was wrong.

It was the sound of rain, trickling down the window panes, spilling from the sill to the floor below. Water was coming in – but the dark sky outside was cloudless, serene. It wasn’t raining.

I’m dreaming, I thought, watching a sheet of water flood down the glass. It’s just another nightmare.

Only it wasn’t.

The puddle forming on the floor swelled, shifting, rising from the ground and taking shape. A creature slipped into being, limbs forming as liquid turned to bone. Water draped its skeleton like a veil of skin, transparent and shimmering blue in the moonlight.

I scrambled back against my headboard in horror as the creature drew itself up, long claw-like fingers unfurling.

‘What—?’ I choked out, my mouth agape as it slithered towards the end of my bed. ‘Who are you?’

The creature slunk closer, its gaunt face and moon-bright eyes sending chills racing through me. Whatever it was, it wore an expression I knew well. Hunger.

‘What do you want?’ I whispered, fear wrapped tight around my throat.

It spoke in a hiss, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth and a flickering, forked tongue. ‘Vengeance.’

Water dripped to the floorboards as it moved, the gills on its neck pulsing like my racing heart. I inched slowly to the edge of the bed, fingers reaching for the side of the mattress, my muscles clenched, ready to bolt for the door.

Let this be a dream, I prayed. But my trembling hands felt the wood of the bedpost, felt the smooth silk of the bedsheets, felt the air as it ripped in and out of my lungs. I wasn’t dreaming.

A shrill hiss licked from the creature’s mouth. ‘You killed,’ it said, seaweed hair slick to its bony skull. ‘You killed my sssibling, and now you think you can take him? Murderer.’

Him? Ice-cold dread swept down my spine.

The creature lunged.

I screamed, tumbling from the bed and racing for the door, but I was too slow. Pain tore through my shoulder, claws of pure fire raking through my skin before I could reach the doorknob. Skeletal fingers wrapped around my arm and threw me backwards.

Pain erupted from the base of my skull as my head cracked against the bedpost. I slammed into the wood with a cry, stumbling back and scrambling for the nightstand. My fingers scrabbled with the drawer’s latch as the creature advanced, the smell of chum and rotting fish churning my stomach.

This couldn’t be how I died. Not here. Not alone.

But there was no way out. No way to live – unless . . .

My fumbling fingers yanked open the nightstand drawer, wrapping around the little dagger inside. I turned just in time. Wet, clammy fingers seized my neck, shoving me back into the wall. My head spun, blackness splitting my vision in two, stars blooming before me.

‘Die,’ it snarled, rancid breath ice-cold on my face.

The rose-shaped hilt of the dagger was slippery in my palm, but I clutched it tight.

I have to, I thought, tears stinging my eyes. My lungs constricted, pulsing with my last snatch of air. Now.

I drew back my arm, chest burning like I was caught in a blaze of fire once more and squeezed my eyes shut.

Bones crunched. There was a sickening snap, and the iron grip around my neck vanished. My eyes flew wide.

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