Page 19 of A Vow of Shadows

Sighing, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, resigned to shake off the fear that had haunted me for years. I had done it. I’d saved myself. I’d found a way to escape my fated demise, and all I had to do was endure a year in The Between. A year with the Ferrier.

Well, that and find a way to stop Death from hunting me.

I rose, wishing I’d had the foresight to bathe before I collapsed into bed. A thin layer of sweat and grime caked my skin, and I longed to be rid of this dress. The thing was, I hadn’t packed another. For all my planning and all my confidence, I’d brought very little aside from coins and food. I guess I thought I’d either fail miserably or I’d have bigger things to worry about than clean clothes.

While I did have bigger things to worry about, I wasn’t eager to dive into them just yet. I pulled an apple from my sack and took another swig of water. I would run out of water before I ran out of food, so that would need to be my first priority.

I cracked open the door and froze as shadows darted away from the spear of sunlight that breached the gloom. My throat constricted, and I slammed the door shut.

Now, I knew I wasn’t hallucinating. These shadows were alive. Well, maybe notalive, but capable of independent movement at the least, possibly even sentient.

If the Ferrier had control over darkness, did he control these shadows as well? Were these his minions?

It made perfect sense now. He’d left me seemingly alone when, in actuality, he’d only left me at the mercy of his shadow creatures. They probably reported back every move I made to their dark master.

I pressed my palms to the solid wood like this small barrier could keep them out. Sure, they avoided the light, but what would happen when night inevitably fell?

Grabbing the old sheets from the haphazard pile on the floor, I stuffed them between the door and floor. Hopefully, it would be enough to barricade any errant shadows. Perhaps, if I was lucky, they would leave with the Ferrier at night when he returned to the world of the living.

I could wait until night fell to explore the manor.

I returned to the bed and emptied the contents of my bag. If I portioned out the food, I had five, maybe seven days at most. The water would only last me one or two.

The privy contained only the commode, no water pump, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one somewhere in this house. If it came to it, I thought I remembered a well outside by the stables. For all I knew, it was dried up.

Leaning back against the headboard, I took a bite of my apple and questioned if I’d suffered a temporary bout of insanity when I’d left home last night.

Chapter 16

The Ferrier

Rest did not find me that day or the next, nor—to my eternal surprise—did Miss Fil’Owen. I’d guessed her to be someone plagued by insatiable curiosity if she’d done enough poking around to discover how to hail a reaper. Though I waited for the sound of footsteps outside my door, none ever came.

My shadows kept my curiosity piqued with whispered updates. They told me which room she’d selected, when she appeared to rest, and when she awoke, opening the door for only a moment before retreating back inside. I suspected she’d seen my shadows and been afraid to proceed, though she’d shown not an ounce of fear since we’d made it to The Between. In fact, she’d shown little fear toward me at all, only when she’d mistaken me for Death.

She was a strange one.

I didn’t miss the way her markings resembled my shadows almost as if she were marked for me and not for Death. The notion was absurd. More likely, Death or Fate had foreseen this moment and marked her specifically to toy with me. No otherexplanation made sense. What could the king of the Afterworld want with a human woman?

As dusk fell, I gave up my fruitless attempts at sleep and stalked to the other wing of the manor. I’d not intended to visit her but soon found myself standing before the door to the room she’d chosen. The shadows I’d assigned to her reported no recent movement. It would seem she was content to remain within, which was fine—great, actually. And yet, my hand raised to knock, hovering mid-air as I warred with myself.

She was not my problem. Except she was.

“This is ridiculous,” I muttered and knocked.

My brows rose as a muffled curse sounded from inside.

“Don’t come in!” she called.

Soft footsteps approached. I leaned forward as though drawn to her proximity through the wood. There was another person in my prison. I was at once intrigued and repulsed by the idea. She halted on the other side of the door but made no move to open it.

“Are we to converse through walls for the length of your stay?” I joked and immediately regretted the playfulness in my tone.

“I’m—I’m indecent.”

I jumped away from the door like it had caught flame. My entire body thrummed to life, awakened in a way it had not been in over a century.

Indecent,indeed.The very word was indecent. It conjured to mind lacy underthings and glimpses of forbidden skin.