Page 40 of Poison Nights & Twilight Alchemy

Why had the stone led them to this place if La Bisou Morte was no longer at the castle? The spell was meant to locate the object’s maker herself, not only a place she’d once been. The witch had clearly tampered with the Tree of Life here at some point, and she held back her fright, her anger, her sadness, not wanting her emotions to wear her down when she needed to focus on her strength to continue.

Perhaps the inside of the castle was a mirage, a spell cast upon its dark walls to make it appear empty, a wayfor intruders to believe they were alone, that dust and vines didn’t cover every inch of the grand entryway.

Dulce tucked the necklace back into her pocket, then fished out a basil leaf from her satchel and placed it against her tongue. As she chewed, its sweet and savory flavor collecting in her mouth, she circled her hands around her eye, peering through the hole she created.

“You have quite the imaginary telescope there,” Reed interjected while Dulce attempted to concentrate on the words from an old spell she’d learned on her tenth birthday when her mother had disguised a butterfly as a snake.

“An incredibly big one,” she whispered. “Now hush for a moment.”

Nothing within the castle changed as they searched its halls. Animals, still as statues, lined what must’ve been a sitting room. Two gray chairs and a glass table rested in the center of the room atop a bear hide. Crimson and black wallpaper covered the walls, along with every animal one could ever imagine. Some animals were only heads hung up, others remained intact, the full bodies of a giraffe and stag stood beside the chairs. Birds dangled from golden chains as though they were flying. Onyx benches were pressed against the walls, obscured by more animals, some in ivory cages.

“Everything is as you see it,” Dulce continued, lowering her hands to her sides.

“Quite the warm welcome we’re receiving here,” Reed drawled. “Although, I do feel there are far too many eyes on us. It’s like they can all stillsee.”

“The eyes are generally not real in taxidermy.” Dulce tapped her chin. “Although, these might not be taxidermyat all. Perhaps La Bisou Morte froze the animals in this state.”

She pressed a finger to an opossum’s eye, finding it to be glass, and grinned as Reed pursed his lips. “You’re in luck. They’re dead.”

“Joyous news,” he said sarcastically. “As long as we don’t meet the same fate by lingering here, though.”

Dulce nodded. “It’s unsettling, to say the least. But while we’re here, let’s search for something that I can add to the location spell to divert it from here. I know I performed it correctly—however, the witch’s magic is still strong here. It could’ve easily confused the stone.”

“Onward with the search then.” Reed extended his arm to her. “Upstairs, shall we? I may not be able to fight magic, but I’ll guard your life with my fists if someone slips out of the shadows.”

Dulce smiled, taking his arm. “That’s a fair trade.”

She quickly cast her gaze away from Reed’s deep brown eyes as she thought about how they’d almost shared a kiss at the Duke’s party. Since then, they’d been alone day after day, even her sleeping in his arms for comfort and warmth, but it seemed the moment had passed. They’d spent the hours traveling, and when they stopped to rest, they were too hungry and tired, spending their time eating what they could and sleeping or reading her mother’s book.

“Must be nice to possess so much wealth—you leave a whole castle unlocked and falling into decay. Look at all this stuff, must’ve cost a fortune.” Reed cast his gaze toward a painting of crows pecking the meat from a stag when they reached the top of the staircase.

“She was either in a rush to leave and hasn’t been ableto return, or she left all this purposefully. But why?”

Except for the strange paintings and the questionable taxidermy down every hallway, the castle was quite exquisite. There were twenty large rooms on the second floor. They discovered one of them to be dedicated to taxidermy, where they found some of the answers to how La Bisou Morte acquired such pieces—she created them herself. Stacks of animal hides took up another room, followed by a painting area, and the grandest room of all, which Dulce assumed was the witch’s own bedchamber.

A thick layer of dust enveloped everything, vines recovering the dark stone at every possible opening. Positively haunting. Why had the witch left this place? And why had no one else claimed it?

Dulce inspected La Bisou Morte’s private suite. A majestic bed of carved ebony stood on a platform in the center of the room, its many pillows and quilts of fine quality, even under a layer of dust. She wondered if Cornelius had ever visited the witch’s bed outside of Moonglade. It wouldn’t come as a surprise if the fawning louse had, with all the secrets he’d kept.

Reed went straight toward the desk, leaving with nothing but blank paper, a quill, and ink. Dulce patted the floors, rummaged through the wardrobe, and drew out a white leather dress. She attempted to locate the witch by touching a piece of fabric, something that had belonged to her.

It was as though Dulce had hit a wall when she repeated the spell, her incantation low and steady. A failed attempt.

“We have more rooms to search downstairs,” Reed said when he must’ve noticed her frown. “But for themoment, how about you rest on this luxurious bed? After nights in the woods, this would be superb.”

As he leaned over the mattress, Dulce caught a ripple like water within the silken blankets. A dark presence sewed its way through her chest, making her eyes flutter, attempting to lure her to the bed.

“Don’t!” she shouted and yanked him back, but her foot caught on the edge of a wolf hide rug, and they went tumbling toward the floor. Reed twisted to prevent himself from falling on her, and she landed instead on top of him. Dulce’s breath caught, and she could feel every hard plane of him pressing against her softest parts. She didn’t move, and neither did he.

“Or we can rest down here.” He chuckled. “But I warn you there were more spiders and beetles in the woods than there would be in that bed.”

“The bed isrippling!” Dulce whisper-shouted when she finally remembered what words were. “I would venture to guess it would swallow anyone who lies on it! Murder you, or send you to somewhere torturous.”

“La Bisou Morte must be fobbing mad to be that attached to a bed she discarded.”

“No, I don’t think it’s hers.” Dulce closed her eyes. “This doesn’t feel like witch magic as everything else here has, though I don’t know what it is precisely…”

“Another unpleasant mystery.” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “You’re still sitting on me.”

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