Page 73 of The Ordeals
I smile my thanks, accepting the cup, and blink furiously, trying not to cry. This moment reminds me so much of Dolly, when she would bring me cups of tea the morning after a night-time assignment when I was younger and busy herself thrusting back my curtains and tidying the clutter I left everywhere. The ghost of her is here now, in this very room, and my heart aches more than my throat as I sip the warming tea. I didn’t appreciate it enough at the time.
I’ve convinced myself since leaving for Killmarth that I’m independent, fighting alone, getting through these Ordeals alone. But with Tessa and Greg here, they show me I don’t have to forever be fighting. Forever alone. I can take a breath and lean on those around me … and that’s all right. Vulnerability does not equal weakness.
‘Thank you,’ I wheeze quietly and Tessa drops her hand to my shoulder. I place my hand on top of hers and take another sip of tea.
‘Eat the broth, take the brew and run a bath. You’ll feel like a new woman,’ Tessa says, taking my empty cup and passing me a bowl of the fragrant broth with a spoon. ‘Can’t believe Professor Grant was a masquier last night! I have to find the scholar who imitated her. Faultless wielding, almost fooled me. But a masquier can find the tell of another masquier if they look closely enough for the signs. Greg cracked the Ordeal in three conversations. Not that he’s at all smug or anything.’
‘Puzzles are my thing,’ he says with a grin. ‘It was just like a big game of five clues. Actually quite enjoyable until, well, you know.’
I laugh huskily again, tasting the broth. It slips down my throat and my grumbling stomach finally calms.
‘We’ll leave you to it,’ Tessa says, grabbing Greg’s hand and backing away towards the door. ‘Don’t forget the brew …’
The food, brew and bath leave me feeling almost myself again. And with Alden’s wielding on the wound, I no longer need a bandage. That creature last night, how she so easily bested me, leaving me fragile and unable to overcome her, has shaken me. The Collector’s warning that I would die in that Ordeal or the last, Initiation, has a bite of truth that’s not easy to brush away anymore. As I comb out my hair, dressing in practical, comfortable clothes and wind a scarf around my neck to hide the blooming purple of the bruises, I work through what I know.
A monster came after me, right here at Killmarth, and she’s the same kind of monster that killed Dolly. She’s killed others. She stalked me to Marazia this semester along with at least one other that Knox killed, and last night she said … it isn’t over. I guess the only reason she acted last night was because I was alone. I take a long shuddering breath, calming the nervous patter of my heart as I powder my face and rouge my cheeks to give my features a less deathly pallor. The thing that unnerves me the most is what Professor Grant said. She said she didn’t want this to happenagain. Which means the cold ones have attacked at Killmarth before.
The conversation Tessa and I overheard in Darley Hall comes rushing back. The man, the male voice said …Eight years and it’s happening again.This all happened eight years ago, when Darley Hall was closed, when the groundskeeper, Harvey Parnell, was killed. It can’t be a coincidence. One of those monsters has to have killed Parnell and it wasinDarley Hall.
‘Doesn’t explain why the whole of Darley was closed off, or why it looks like it’s spun back in time to twenty-five years ago, but it’s a start …’ I mutter, sweeping mascara over my lashes. Already, I look more than passable and much less of a target for any advantage-seeking murderous hopeful looking to clear some of the remaining competition from their path. There is still a murderer on the loose, unless they were one of the hopefuls who failed the Ordeal. Time to show my face, and prove I’m alive and very much ready for the final Ordeal.
That I amnotweak.
I step out of my room, lock it behind me and make my way down the staircase. There’s a figure walking up the stone steps towards Killmarth proper, and I would recognise the set of those shoulders anywhere.
‘Locke!’ I call, but my voice is still a wisp, swiftly carried away by a stray breeze. I watch as he turns right instead of entering the courtyard, taking the route to the walled gardens. Quickening my step, I decide to follow him, rounding the high walls of Killmarth only a few moments after him. I catch a fleeting glimpse of him turning away from the usual path through the walled gardens, making his way past them to the rocks and cliff bordering the sea. This side of the islet churns with waves, a foamy mass of ink and white clawing at the rocks.
The wind whips up around me, tasting of brine and mist, and I spy him hunkering down with a rock at his back, staring moodily out over the ocean. I bite my lip, but continue on, stumbling over the uneven granite as I reach him. ‘I just came to say, thanks for the brew, my throat …’
He startles, leaping to his feet. ‘Sophia, should you be out of bed? I was going to come and check on you. The sea air, this chill—’
‘I’m fine,’ I say, waving my hand. ‘The brew helped. Your wielding almost healed it completely. Thank you.’
‘Well. That’s something.’ His features relax and he drops back down to sit with the rock at his back.
‘May I?’
‘Sure.’ He indicates the space beside him and I hunker down, keeping my coat wrapped around me. We sit quietly for a moment and I watch the waves as they rush at the rocks, pounding and pounding before receding back to the sea. ‘I come here to think sometimes. Yesterday was the anniversary of—’ He swallows. ‘Of my father’s death and I find it … hard. Being here, when it all changed.’
‘Oh, Alden …’
He smiles humourlessly. ‘Eight years now he’s been gone. I was twelve when it happened and Edmund wouldn’t let me join the hunt for his killers, the cold ones in the Morlagh … I shouldn’t still be bitter about that, but I am. He died in the woods, trying to defend our home, and I did nothing but pace the floor of Morlagh Manor whilst my brother and mother hunted them all down.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘It’s … I was going to say it’s all right but today, I guess it’s actually not,’ he says quietly, staring out at the waves. ‘Yesterday I had the Ordeal to distract me. But today I’m just angry and bitter and feel utterly and completely powerless. Again. If Knox hadn’t stopped that monster it would have killed you, and I wouldn’t have been able to stop it. I wouldn’t have stopped a fuckingthing.’
‘Alden …’ I say, turning to him. He bows his head and I tuck my fingers under his chin, guiding his gaze to mine. ‘Alden, I’m here. The cold one is dead and gone. It didn’t happen again. I’m alive.’
‘But only a moment later, and it could have, it would …’ He blinks, the muddy depths of his eyes sharpening. ‘I knew he’d been drained like that, when he died. But to see it happening to you, the reality of it … it was unbearable.’
I understood the distinct pain of knowing in excruciating detail how someone you loved died. Knowing you couldn’t stop it, knowing you were powerless. ‘I’m here. I’m right here. You and Knox, you got there in time.’
‘I …’ He sniffs, closing his eyes, and my heart fractures for him. This man, once full of secrets … I see how he’s been masking this, who he is inside. His armour, the same kind I wear every day, constructed over years of working for the Collector. It’s all peeled away now, stripped back, and all I see is him. And he’s … beautiful. Fierce and strong and so utterly human, with a soul so deep it holds an entire world inside of him. ‘I couldn’t stand it, if that cold one had …’
‘I’m right here,’ I say again softly, my mouth inches from his. He opens his eyes and all I see is despair, endless sorrow, a whole world of guilt and anger and regret. And all I want to do is show him. That he doesn’t need to save me. That his whole life doesn’t have to revolve around the person he failed to save. He’s more, so much more than a string of singular choices. ‘I’m right here,’ I say again and as he closes the distance between us, I release a soft sigh, feeling the final vestiges of my armour slip away, and press my mouth to his.
Chapter 24
