Page 21 of Hunt the Dusk
She stopped humming and smiled. “It’s an old lullaby. I used to sing it to my daughter.”
“You have a daughter? Is she…is she here too?”
“No dear. She’s long gone.” Her smile remained, but her eyes were sad.
I didn’t like that I’d made her sad. “It’s a beautiful tune. Can you sing the words?”
Her brow furrowed. “I wish I could remember, but it’s been so long…Time has stolen them from me.”
Time.
Centuries of it. Not just for her, but for the other specters who inhabited the halls of this castle.
“I hate that you’re stuck here like this. You should be free, all of you.” Did she know about the curse? Wait, was she trapped herebecauseof it?
“It’s not so bad.” She set down her mop and stood hands on hips. “And now that you’ve agreed to help the master find his humanity, there is hope for us all.”
“You know about that?”
“Yes, dear, I know about the curse, and Master Ordell informed me that you’d be helping.”
“You’re all trapped here because of it, aren’t you?”
“There are those of us who chose to stay, and on the most part, we do not regret it. But some could not endure and lost their minds.”
“The lost are in the west wing?”
She nodded. “I fear that with enough time, we may all become lost. But with your help, Master Ezekiel may finally find his heart once more.”
“Yeah…” I dropped my gaze to my plate, my insides twisting with conflict because as much as I wanted to stop Loviator and free the specters, as much as my brain knew that it was essential that Ezekiel find his humanity, my heart wasn’t on board.
I could never forgive him for the horrors he’d chosen to inflict. He killed not to survive but for pleasure, and in my book, that made him a monster.
“I’d like to show you something,” Ingrid said. “I think it might help you to understand.”
I followed her out of the kitchen and through the winding nighttime corridors into a part of the castle I’d never been before, where cobwebs and dust reigned and the air was dry and musty.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
I trusted Ingrid, but I couldn’t help the flashback of when Daisy, the crazy ghost, had lured me into danger a few days ago.
Ingrid slowed and glanced back as if sensing my concern. “I wouldneverharm you, Orina. I hope you trust that you’re safe with me.”
“I do.”
“Good because we’re here.”
She led the way up a narrow flight of steps and unlocked a battered-looking wooden door into a room lit by moonlight and home to a gathering of shadows. The candles fixed to the wall lit up with a whoosh, banishing the darkness and illuminating a space filled with books, paintings, and all manner of knickknacks.
There was no floor space aside from a narrow path that wound its way between the stacks of boxes. “What is all of this?”
“I call it the memory room,” Ingrid said. “Books, letters, paintings, and portraits from the time before. If you want to know who Master Ezekiel really is, then you may find him amongst these things. His things.”
“Does he…Does he know about this place?”
“Oh yes, dear. There was a time he would spend hours in this room. A time when we hoped, but he has not set foot in this part of the castle for four centuries.” She pressed the iron key into my palm. “Take your time to look around and feel free to visit as often as you like. I doubt he will come here again.”
