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Grai hadn’t bothered to light a lantern, darkness had become his refuge. No longer did he feel a companion to goodness. How quickly his life had plummeted to the abyss! From a young man enjoying the struggle of pursuing education and success—holding onto hope and purpose, thinking that he would soon achieve his dreams, to this! Attacked, nearly killed, separated from his soul, tumbling through the night with no direction, only to reach out one last time to someone who vowed deliverance. A gentle hand, a soft smile, promising eyes, and a caring heart and then as if a branch snapped, she let him go. What had he left? Yes. Darkness was his friend.
He sat on the stone shelf, having pushed aside the blankets that Adele had given him. He wanted nothing to do with her any longer. Her betrayal cut him deeper than the dagger had. He could trust no one in this world. No one!
His spirit slid into the dugout, illuminated by its ridiculous glow, a pout on his face. Grai looked aside.
“I told her.”
“Good,” Grai said, wincing as he sat up. The wound still hurt and itched. He needed a clean wrap. If he had to, he could wash this one with water from the fountain and go without a covering. Perhaps letting air to it would be best.
“You’ll regret chasing her away,” his spirit leaned against the wall, his arms folded.
“I’ll regret nothing.”
“She said she was sorry.”
“For what?” Grai asked, locking on to the spirit’s eyes. “For bringing Delaney and her cousin here to stab me? Or for bringing her uncle here to shoot me? Which one?”
“I don’t think she did either, purposefully.”
“Either way, if she’s foolish enough to allow louts to follow her, then she’s too naïve for me to be around.”
“But you love her.”
“Love? Nonsense. She’s a stranger. How could I love a stranger?”
“Don’t do that, Grai. Don’t deny your affection toward her.”
Grai set his jaw, steeling against any emotion that attempted to slide into him from his spirit. “If I felt anything at all, it was because of you.”
“Of course, it was.”
“I don’t need it. I’m fine hiding out until I heal.”
“Which Adele has been helping you to do.”
“If she helped with anything, she showed me who the conspirators are.”
His spirit snickered. “You think you know who the conspirators are, but in actuality, you know nothing!”
“And your source of information is?”
“I have none.”
“Exactly.” Grai stood, eager to be out of such close quarters with the phantom.
“Are they gone?” Grai asked.
“Yes. All of them.”
His spirit trailed him through the tunnel like a badgering old woman. Grai resented being told what he thought, what he felt, or what he should do. The spirit had no mind, no common sense, but prodded him with emotions he didn’t care to have—that he’d be better off not having.
“What are you going to do, Grai?” his spirit asked.
“I’m going to think. I’m going to make a decision and try to keep your opinion out of it.”
“A decision on what?”
“On whether I should drown you in the fountain.”
“You can’t do that.”
“I can,” Grai argued.
“You’ll die. I’ll live. It will give you no satisfaction.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
Grai pushed on the stone that sealed the root cellar and stepped into the chill of the night. He breathed deeply, causing his wound to ache. Unbuttoning his coat, he threw it on the statue of his grandfather’s dog, pulled his shirt over his head, and unwrapped the dressing. Adele had taken the medicine bag, and so he had no clean gauze and the fountain water had frozen. Icicles would work. He broke off the longest spike he could find on the wisteria and rubbed it over his lesion.
“Put your coat over your shoulders so you don’t freeze to death,” his spirit ordered.
That his spirit bade him to do anything aggravated Grai, but the frosty night air had become unbearable, and so he took the advice and pulled his coat over his shoulders. He sat on the bench, shivering while the ice numbed the gash. Once the spike had melted, Grai slipped into his shirt again and put his coat on. His teeth chattered, but he didn’t want to go back into the root cellar. No matter the frost, the stars beckoned him to linger.
The universe understood his loneliness, his insignificance. He identified with the void. Huddled in his coat, his body trembling, he rose and began walking, and like a magnet, the trail under the hoarfrost drew him to the gate and the view of Barrington’s manor.
“What are you hoping for, Grai?” his spirit whispered near to his ear. Grai felt the warmth of his energy and stepped away in fear of absorbing his spirit’s kindness. Should he yield to honesty, his heart would break, and he feared he’d no longer have the will to live.
“Hope? I’m not sure there’s anything left to hope for.” Grai answered. No lights brightened the tower where he had once seen her. He supposed that was her bedchamber window, for more than once she had pulled the curtain open and looked his way. “I didn’t want Adele to be involved. I told you it would be wrong.”
“Has it really been that bad?”
Bad? He’d seen it all, everything that happened. Grai had been outside near his dugout when he heard the men coming for him. If he had wandered any farther into the courtyard, they would have tackled him. Being without a weapon, they would have killed him. Bad? According to whose principles? Bad that he might have been killed? Or bad that he had survived?
“You saw her cousin sneaking around in the woods with a dagger the size of a saber,” Grai said.
“It wasn’t that large,” his spirit argued.
“How would he have known we were here?”
“He frequents the Barrington’s house. He could have found us the same way Adele did.”
“Or followed her. What makes you think she didn’t lead him here on purpose?”
“Why would she?”
“And what about that other fellow, Delaney?”
“Delaney was an apprentice to your grandfather’s partner. You know that! Delaney knew you before Adele did. And Delaney knows about the gold.”
“They didn’t attack me for gold the first time.”
“No.”
“You think Adele led them to you? I don’t,” his spirit said.
Grai turned to look at him. Could the two of them ever agree on anything?
“And why don’t you?”
“She loves you.”
Grai shook his head. He refused to believe it. “If she loved me, then why did these people suddenly show up tonight after she went to Port Summerhill? No one knew I was here before tonight.”
“I have no answers for you, Grai. She may have turned on you, but my heart tells me she didn’t.”
“Your heart? It’s my heart as well, you know!” Grai’s tone made the spirit quiver. “This is the second woman who has turned on me. First my mother. Now Adele. Does that matter to you at all?”
“You distrust people before you know the facts. For that reason alone, you and I are disjointed. You can never love unless you trust.”
“And I can never trust if I’m betrayed.”
“You are correct.”
Grai turned back toward the manor, satisfied he made his point.
“You are wrong in your judgment of people, however. Because of that, any hope for her affection is lost.”
When the spirit drifted away from him, Grai shivered again. It didn’t matter. His spirit felt no cold, Grai felt no love—in a sense, there was a harmony to that, each resolving a crisis in their own way.
The manor appeared so empty now, so hollow and deserted. Already regret churned Grai’s stomach, and he wished he hadn’t condemned her. He wanted to care for her. He wanted her near him. He wanted to be one with his spirit and feel for her, but he didn’t have the strength to bear any more pain.