Page 48 of The Musician and the Monster

“You knew.” The dark certainty dried her tears. She wiped the tracks on her face.

More somber looks. More resigned defeat. “There is a reason we are not allowed upstairs,” Jackoby replied, adjusting the edge of his stiff collar.

She swayed on her feet. “You know what he is…”

Jackoby nodded, answering for the group.

“His attack that time in the dining room…”

“It came on him suddenly,” Kent said, barely a whisper. “But that one we calmed down. He must have tried something two nights ago after Malik left and—”

Jackoby cut him off with a quick motion of his hand. He’d said too much.

“I can’t stay here.” Panic clawed its way up her chest. Not with a monster. Not with the demon they all feared. And especially not when everyone kept that knowledge from her—a lamb in a pen of wolves.

“Oh, but you can’t go,” Gwen replied, reaching out. Her voice held a note of panic, worry.

Ceridwen brushed past her, aiming for the large doors at the end of the hall that opened into the yard.

“Please stay. He’s been so much better,” she continued.

“Better?” Ceridwen spun around. Another humorless laugh clawed at her chest. “He stalked me down like a rat who’d invaded the kitchens, and I’m supposed to think that’s better?” She turned and fled.

Words and footsteps echoed after her as she pushed open the main door.

The setting sun dipped toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange that faded into blue. Its colors reflected on the ungroomed snow that had fallen across the yard. Without regular visitors to the manor, no one bothered to shovel a pathway to the iron gates. She made one now, lifting her hem and trudging through the drifts as fast as her legs would carry her. The tears streaking down her face turned icy. A fitting pain given the sharp rending feeling that kept carving up her heart, as if Drystan sliced it with his monstrous claws.

She winced as the cold seeped into the holes clawed into her boot, awakening the ripped skin underneath. They’d be ruined from the blood soaking into the leather.

Gwen sobbed a plea, uncaring that they were outdoors and might be overheard. It did not stop her.

Kent caught up with her a few feet from the gate, his long legs giving him advantage traversing the snow.

“Wait, let us explain.” He stepped in Ceridwen’s path, barring her way to the gate. Not that it much mattered with the lock shining strong and sure. She’d need one of them to unlock it.

“What is there to explain? Is he not a monster?” she asked in a harsh whisper.

His jaw slid side to side before he finally uttered one word. “No.”

Then it didn’t matter. None of it did. “Let me out. Please.”

Jackoby had come around her other side, snaring her attention where he held an object before him. A key. The key.

“Jackoby, you can’t mean to—”

He silenced Kent with a look. “Our guest has made her decision,” he said with authoritative finality. With that, he trudged the few short feet to the gate as Ceridwen trailed after, wading through his footprints to ease her path.

The key slid into the lock and turned with a click. Jackoby pushed the metal gate under the stone archway open as much as the snow spilling near it would allow. Her heart fluttered at the small gap. Too narrow for a horse or cart, but plenty of space for a person to squeeze through. Freedom beckoned beyond despite the ungroomed, snow-covered streets that awaited. No one had bothered to shovel all the way to the manor gate, not for a Lord Protector who did not visit his citizens or invite them in.

At once, thoughts of Drystan twisted her racing heart. A quick glance at the tower and the fading sun illuminating the windows near the top did nothing to ease her pain. It wrecked her heart all the more.

“He was doing so much better with you here,” Jackoby said, drawing her attention back to him and the gate. “If only you could’ve seen past the monster. He might have had a chance. We might all have.”

She recognized the look in his eyes, the one deep beyond his stoic demeanor. Disappointment. It hit like a slap to the face. His master was a monster, yet his disappointment was aimed at her, not the creature lurking in the tower. Somehow, she’d failed him—failed them all.

She could stop now. Return to the manor and forget what she’d seen.

A stiff, cold wind rushed through the gate. Except she never could. How could she reside with a monster? Have dinner with him each night? Play for him alone? A sick, hard knot tumbled within her. She’d kissed him. Kissed the same mouth that had clamped down on the thief’s throat.

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