Page 63 of Backwoods
From her vantage point, Amiya could see the front of Westbrook, twilight settling over the plantation: the fields, the various buildings that supported the operation. She noticed that the field hands had vanished; off work, perhaps?
She could see the barn in which they had imprisoned Nick, a boxy shape in the gathering gloom. Her heart clutched. Was he still in there?
“Here it comes!” the woman cried. She was suddenly beside Amiya, one gnarled hand clutching Amiya’s shoulder with frenzied strength. She pointed out the window.
Amiya started to push the woman away but stopped when she saw the thing the woman had indicated. She stared, lips parted.
For a moment, her heart stopped.
A towering wave of darkness rolled across the land, like an apocalyptic tsunami. But this was a wall of blackness, not water. It was coming directly for them, rippling across the plantation as swiftly as the wind.
Amiya squeezed her eyes shut, a scream trapped at the base of her throat.
Coldness tore through her, bone deep, as if she had been flash frozen. It felt like a million icy pinpricks on her skin. The pain was so intense that she thought she might pass out.
As quickly as it came, it was over.
Shuddering, she opened her eyes. Closed them, opened them again.
Laughing, arms spread wide, the old woman raced to the staircase with the giddiness of a child on Christmas morning. Her dress, previously soiled and tattered, fluttered around her, fresh and new.
The staircase glistened richly, too, as if recently restored.
Amiya put her hand to her mouth. Heart pounding, she turned, taking in the loft.
This can’t be, she thought, gazing at the perfectly formed ceiling, the shining hardwoods, the sparkling windows.This place had been falling apart.
Not trusting her balance, she shuffled to the head of the staircase. She put her hand on the balustrade. The mahogany, in pristine condition, was cool underneath her fingers.
It felt real. Indisputably.
Piano music had struck up from somewhere downstairs. She recognized the rich, sonorous notes of “Moonlight Sonata,” and she remembered the crumbling grand piano she had seen in the parlor.
A spell of dizziness spun through her. She grasped the balustrade to assist her balance, simultaneously realizing that she was holding onto something that shouldn’t have existed in its current condition.
Laughter bubbled up from the lower levels, too. She heard chattering, excited voices. The clink and clatter of glasses.
It’s like a party has started, she thought.
Although she feared what she might see, worried that whatever she would discover would blow away her sanity for good, she descended the staircase to the second level.
Candlelight brightened the corridor. The hallway had been restored to a state of grandeur.
Miss Lula emerged from the doorway of the bedroom that had been assigned to Amiya. Amiya was taken aback by the older woman’s appearance. Not only was she smiling, but her clothes had been revitalized.
She even wore a string of pearls.
“There you are, lady,” Miss Lula said. “Come and put on your shoes and freshen up your makeup. It’s time to meet the master.”
42
Nick was huddled over his batch of homemade flash-bangs when the transforming darkness swept over the land.
He hadn’t known exactly what to expect. He and Raven had slipped back into the forest and found a quiet, sheltered place within a copse of elms in which he could work by candlelight. Crouched next to him, Raven had hugged herself with her thin arms and warned him in a quavering voice, “the darkness is coming; it’s going to be so cold,” and he’d had no clue what she was talking about.
The blackness fell over him like a heavy drop cloth. An icy blast hit him, as if he’d been placed in the open doorway of a walk-in freezer. Fingers tingling from the sudden lowering of temperature, he dropped the shotgun shell he’d been mining for gunpowder.
The rush of coldness subsided as suddenly as it had come. But the darkness remained, gathered like a robe around their circle of candle flame. Although the sun had finally set, the nightfall that had settled over the land was deeper than any Nickhad ever seen. Whatever strange enchantments that existed in Westbrook had enhanced the depth of the night, too.
