Page 15 of A Vow of Shadows
“So—” Biting my lip, I searched my mind for the right word. “Easy”
I shrugged, dissatisfied with the word choice, but unable to conjure a better replacement.
“No,” he said. “In fact, it is very rarely ‘like that.’”
With that final, mysterious answer, he closed the door. It latched with a finality that drew me back to the present situation. I tipped my head back, closing my eyes as I listened to the Ferrier take his seat and set the horses in motion.
For a brief moment, he’d been surprisingly forthcoming with answers to my questions. I cursed myself for again forgetting to ask his name and endeavored to do so when we next stopped.
Chapter 12
The Ferrier
I’d almost let her go. Her fear had been a sharp reminder of the monster I’d become. Never mind that she’d relaxed when she learned it was me. Decades had passed since I was human, since I inhabited the world of the living, but she was my ticket to freedom. As I’d headed back to the carriage, I’d reflected on all she must have left behind—all that would be lost to her if I failed in this task.
And it was an impossible task.
Luck—or perhaps fate—had put her in my path. If anyone had something to prove against Death, it was me. This woman would either be a jackpot or a fantastic bargaining chip. Only time would tell.
Chapter 13
Katrin
It was nearly dawn when the carriage finally stopped, judging by the soft light gilding the horizon. I’d nodded off once or twice during the ride only to be jostled awake by the rough terrain. Exiting the carriage proved quite the feat as my quaking legs threatened to buckle beneath me at every step. I hadn’t known what to expect of the Ferrier’s home. He could have dwelled in a dark cave deep under a mountain, and I would have been expected to stay with him. The Between was as much a mystery as the Afterworld. Though I’d prepared for the worst, I couldn’t stop my sharp intake of breath as I beheld what was to be my home for the next year.
The very world around me was drained of color—of life, frankly. A dense fog blanketed the area, turning the sky a sickly shade of gray. The bony limbs of skeletal trees jutted up at odd angles. Given where I was, I couldn’t help but compare them to the hands of giant beasts clawing their way from the depths of the Earth.
I glanced down, noting the myriad of cracks that spiderwebbed across the landscape. Spinning, I traced thewinding pathways. Patches of dead grass sprouted up at random intervals. If this was a web, then I was the fly. The only living thing here beside the spider.
The creature in question was busy tending the horses, and I stepped away to make the most of his distraction.
A foreboding wrought iron fence surrounded us, though the gates stood open for now. I wondered if he would close them while I was here. If this place would be a prison, or if I’d be free to come and go as I pleased. Not that I had anywhere to go.
I heaved a sigh of frustration, and one of the horses echoed my sentiments.
“If you’re in such a hurry, you can wait within.” The Ferrier gestured to the other side of the horses.
Though he’d mistaken the target of my frustrations, I knew a dismissal when I heard one. Adjusting my satchel over my shoulder, I stepped around the carriage and paused in awe as I finally acknowledged the sprawling manor house.
Three stories tall and at least twice as wide as my family home, the dark behemoth towered above me. It stretched into the fog in both length and height. Spires pierced the low-hanging clouds like needles in a bolt of fabric. Arched windows dotted the crumbling stone facade, the shape echoed in the gables and dormers. Creeping vines snaked over the entire structure, threatening to make it one with the ill-maintained garden.
I hesitated at the black door, my hand hovering over the iron handle. Every etiquette lesson played in repeat at the back of my mind.A lady should always wait to be announced. Always knock before entering. A guest should never let oneself in.
All of it was completely irrelevant to this situation. Still, it felt wrong to enter the Ferrier’s home before him, almost like I was intruding upon a sacred space. As far as I knew, no other living person had ever stood here. I had no idea what I would find on the other side of the door, but rather than trepidation, mybody thrummed with excitement. I’d already accomplished the hardest part of my plan. All that was left was for me to see where I would be spending the next year of my life.
“If you are waiting for the butler, there isn’t one.”
Startled, I glanced back to where the Ferrier still cared for the horses. His hood remained up, and though he appeared to be focused on the task at hand, I could have sworn I’d heard a hint of mirth in his words. Had he been watching me this whole time? Of course, he would. He might have claimed to harbor no human emotions, but these small glimpses of his personality said otherwise. It made me all the more curious to find out what lurked beneath the dark cowl.
“Arse,” I muttered, pushing open the door.
Though the world outside had been dreary, I had to pause on the threshold as my eyes adapted to the tenebrous interior of the house itself. The stagnant air assaulted my senses with the saccharine scent of rotting flowers. My eyes watered, and I swallowed thickly against the urge to gag, holding my sleeve to my nose like a makeshift mask.
I breathed in the scent of home, of wildflowers and cedar that was already beginning to fade from the fabric. Waving away the depressing notion, I forced my feet forward. The floorboards creaked with each step, the sound echoing in the cavernous foyer. I halted where the murky light from the doorway ended. To my unadjusted eyes, I appeared to stand on a precipice before a plunge of unimaginable depths. Though the logical part of my mind tried to tell me that the likelihood of there being a bottomless pit in the middle of this veritable palace was slim, the louder voice in my head was reminding me of how little I knew about the Ferrier and this place.
Refusing to ignore the more insistent—albeit less sane—voice, I stayed exactly where I was and watched as the objects around me slowly began to take shape.
A threadbare rug stretched before my feet, its pattern indistinguishable in the low light. An upholstered bench and a small table were the extent of the furniture that I could make out. Several doorways branched off from the room and to my left, a sweeping staircase spiraled up and out of sight. A large wrought iron chandelier dangled above it all.