Page 167 of Crown of Darkness
Thiago shoots her a look, but he doesn’t say anything.
She’s said enough.
Something’s not quite right here.
Even Grimm remains quiet, from his perch atop my shoulders.
It takes us nearly an hour of walking before Thiago holds up a hand. “The cottage is just ahead,” he says. “The children aren’t used to strangers. Strangers mean death here in the north, so don’t make any sudden moves. I speak their language, so I’ll tell them to take me to Old Mother Hibbert.”
We all nod and stamp our feet.
I feel sick with nerves. I’ve been trying not to think of it all morning, but Amaya’s within earshot. I don’t know what to say to her. She doesn’t know me—she doesn’t know any of us—and all I can hope is that she’s led a happy life until this moment.
What if shehasn’tled a happy life?
I freeze, and Thiago squeezes my hand, as if he can sense what I’m thinking.
“Soon,” he whispers in my mind, and then he’s pushing through a pair of fir trees, sweeping snow off the branches with his arm.
A little glade appears.
And there’s a cottage in the middle of it, the kind of cottage that belongs in all the old fairy tales. It stands cold and silent in the forest, and Thiago slams to a halt as he sees it, his nostrils flaring.
“What’s wrong?” I can practically feel his tension. “We’re nearly there.”
“You can see it?” he asks slowly.
I nod, and then I remember…. The wards keep prying eyes away. I’m not supposed to be able to see it.
“The fires are always burning,” he breathes. “She always keeps the fires lit for the littlest ones, and there’s more than a tongue-lashing for you if you allow them to fall cold.” He takes a step toward the cottage. And another. “The lanterns burn with faelight, night and day, just in case one of the children loses their way in the forest. Something’s wrong.”
My stomach drops. My little girl….
“Can you sense anything?” I ask Grimm desperately.
“Pain. And fear,” the grimalkin replies quietly. “And the stink ofthe Shadow Ways.”
They came for her, I know it.
I should have paid more attention to my dreams. The fetch no longer had need of me, because theyhad her….
I’m not the only one with the blood of the Old Ones. I’m not the onlyleanabh an dàn. And Angharad only needs one; the right kind of sacrifice to break open the Hallow that guards the Horned One.
A breathless sob escapes me as Eris pushes past us, drawing her sword.
“I can smell blood,” she says.
And that’s when I start to smell it too.
“Amaya!” I yell, shoving past all of them, but Thiago grabs my arm grimly.
“Slowly, Vi.” He turns to look at the cottage. “Because whatever did this may still be here.”
* * *
The closer weget to the cottage, the more I see signs of ruin.
Glass shards glitter in the window panes, and flames have burnt one side of the house before they were seemingly doused. Someone’s torn the shutters from the windows, and they hang from broken hinges.
