Page 66 of Eldritch
When she pulled the bowl away, she was staring at me, brows lowered, lips snarled in a way that reminded me of a feral dog. The sight of her had the hair on the back of my neck standing.
She quickly broke into laughter. “I was being silly. Remember Mrs. Castor’s dog that would growl at anything that passed its bowl?”
The memory brought a half-smile to my face. “I do, yes.” I was relieved she had remembered, too.
“I always hated that mangy mutt.”
“I like to think he was simply misunderstood.”
“Yes, well. Speaking of mutts, you’ve yet to introduce me to your friend.”
I frowned at the insult. “His name is Zevander.”
“Zevander? What kind of name is that?”
“Vespyri,” Zevander said from behind, leaning against the doorframe. “It means to move with a quickness.”
She glanced up, and the blush that rose to her cheeks told me she hadn’t realized his presence. “I’ve never heard of Vespyri.”
“As I said…we have much to catch up on.” I waited for her focus to return to me. “You were telling me The Crone Witch took you in after you escaped from Moros.”
“I didn’t escape from Moros, silly. I escaped from his home.”
“Right. And Elow—The Crone Witch gave you shelter.”
“She did. And she threw me into a cold pantry for reasons I can’t begin to fathom.” She tapped her spoon to her bowl four times. Paused, then tapped four times more. Before I could question her about the strange behavior, she asked, “Might I get some rest? I still feel a bit dizzy and out of sorts.”
“Of course. Yes. We’ve plenty of time to catch up on things.”
“Yes. Plenty of time, now that you’ve returned.”
“If you need me, I’ll be in the other room.”
She handed me the bowl, offering a slight smile. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
I exited the bedroom, closing the door behind me, and after depositing the bowl onto the table, I made my way over to the rocking chair where Zevander sat sharpening his blades in front of the hearth. A cold, numb sensation settled over me while I stared at the flames.
Zevander’s gaze swept my way. “What is it?”
“Well, she doesn’t seem to be infected, at all, but she doesn’t seem to be entirely herself, either.”
“How so?”
“She just seems rather nonchalant about all that’s happened.”
“I suspect she’s been through a lot.”
“Yes, of course. It does sound rather traumatic, with her thinking I was gone for good, and trying to escape Moros, and then whatever events led her to being thrown into a pantry. But she believes that Moros helped her out of those woods. She believes hehelpedher.” I shook my head, my thoughts like drifting plumes of confusion. “It isn’t possible. I saw him swallowed by that creature. It wasn’t a hallucination.” I nibbled on my bottom lip as I puzzled through the story she’d told me. “At the same time, I have to wonder, why didn’t he kill her? For the most part, she seems like herself.”
“What are you asking me, Maevyth?”
“What if I did hallucinate it all? I was bitten by those damned wickens. Iwasfeeling a bit dizzy and confused at the time.”
“And so what if you did? What does it change?”
“It just makes more sense.” Hands fidgeting, I bit my lips harder. “I should get some sleep before we head out to the Moros manor.” I couldn’t hide the grimace on my face at the mention of his horrific mansion.
