26

 

After her shower, Sonja, her eyes half-lidded, told me she needed to sleep, and though I pushed her for more information, she did not have any. She found evidence that Niklos bought a gun, a receipt from a store in Seattle, but nothing more. Nothing solid to take to Thompson other than Niklos felt threatened. Then she settled into Siyah’s leather chair near the fire and nodded off. Maybe an hour or so to herself would clear her thoughts and she and I could talk more about Niklos.

I took an apple from the bowl on Siyah’s counter, pulled a sketchbook from my carry-on case, and grabbed the key to the studio.

It was at the end of the building’s first floor. Furthest from Siyah’s loft, the small room smelled of sawdust and glue. I smiled because it reminded me of my grandfather’s woodshop. Swedish work tables and low hanging light fixtures made the space feel cozy despite its bare furnishings. I wandered the room and held a heavy glass paperweight in the palm of my hand. Scraps of leather and a collection of paint samples littered the desk. I curled into the office chair and propped my sketchbook on my knees, determined to get some work done despite my unsettled mind.

An hour later, I smoothed the charcoal lines of the drawing, blending the edges of an arched window. One bare tree, branches gnarled, reached from the center of the drawing to the window panes used to frame the scene in deep black. On the lowest limb, a lone black bird hunched over a nest, the eggs large and white and cracked.

I tilted my head, licked the tip of my pencil, and used the side of the lead to fill in a dark mist moving along the ground and exposed roots of the tree. Just beyond the tree, in the distance, I drew in the waving swells of the sea. On it, I etched in the silhouette of a boat. I bit my lip, wondering how I would make the tiny lantern glow in the finished pendant. Maybe a chip from a topaz would be warm enough to pass for a flickering flame?

Sighing, I traced the boat over and over, making it blacker and knowing that no matter how far I moved from Noble, it would always bleed out of me onto the pages of my artwork. North Carolina was beautiful and lush, with amazing sights, but still I drew the dark shores of my mysterious Noble.

Mysterious…

I flipped over a page and outlined the shape of the carousel, my hands shaking as I forced myself to remember the night I found the body of Niklos. Every detail, the cracked and peeling varnish on the horses, the tarnished poles, the scratchy calliope music, came flooding back. In the corner of the page, I drew a section of woods, the trampled grass strewn with the bodies of rabbits.

There seemed to be things both explainable and unexplainable going on, and the trouble was I could not separate them in my mind. What would a man attacking our boat have to do with the whispers I heard in the rustling leaves? My fingers found the bandage at my forehead and I ground my teeth with frustration. Too little sleep and too many disturbing events muddled my thinking.

Leaning back in Siyah’s chair, I watched raindrops pound the boardwalk planks, the muted drumming soothing. My stomach growled, and I decided to finish one more pendant idea before heading in to see if Sonja wanted to go into the village for lunch. So many nights spent tossing and turning or not sleeping at all caught up with me and I felt the stress of these past days overtake me. Arms heavy, lids lowering, I sank deeper into the seat, barely noticing when my pencil fell from my fingers.

A bright flicker flooded the room, and I startled awake just as a thunderclap shook the glass. Panting, I eyed the dark clouds roiling in the pale sky outside, their bellies flashing purple. Wind whistled in through a crack in the window fluttering the gossamer curtains with a frigid gust. Hugging myself, I gathered my things, wondering how long I’d dozed.

A loud slam shook the room, and I screamed, startled. Half laughing, half shuddering, I eased the door to Siyah’s workroom open and peered out. The overhead lights lining the hallway flickered and winked out. Further down the hall, I heard another slammed door and I nearly dropped my things. One door could be wind, but two?

I stood stone still, listening. Though I’d strained to hear it, the echoing sobs that floated in from the dark hall spiked the hair on my neck. I stumbled backwards, my body tight with terror as the window behind me flew open. The curtains flared out at me like spectral arms. Freezing rain stung my skin like jagged shards of glass, and I spun, screaming. The gust blew the office door shut, and I flattened myself to the wall, panting, grasping at my shredded senses for reason.

“It’s just the wind, Raven,” I whispered and didn’t like the tremor in my voice.

I didn’t bother with Siyah’s window. I reached for the handle, opening the door as quietly as I could. Teeth chattering with cold and fright, I took a step out, squinting in the dark hallway. Another flash lit up the room behind me and a rumble of thunder pushed out towards me so loud it pained my ears.

Intending to run back upstairs to Siyah’s loft, I made it halfway down the hall and froze when I heard it. The sound hissed through me like a current.

Raven…

I turned, frantically scanning the hall for the source of the whisper. Breath hitching, I stumbled forward in the dark, hands floundering out as I dropped my things. Overhead lights flickered, burst with a rain of sparks, and went out again. The plaintive squeak of old hinges sounded down the hallway as a door eased open, slowly casting a rectangle of light on the floor. Trapped in the blackness surrounding me, I ran towards it, fingers tracing the wall as I stumbled on the uneven floor.

My name rasped out of the darkness once more. Gasping, I ran into the room, slamming the door behind me, tears flowing in desperate sobs. I pushed a chair to the door and jammed the back up against the knob. Backing up, I hugged myself, trying to keep from shaking apart.

Seconds passed and the only sound was my ragged breathing. The room was filled with lush draping scarves that covered the tables and lamps. I remembered this room, it had been used as the fortune-teller’s lair when the carnival was going strong. I sought something to hold in my hands, to defend myself, but found only baskets with dried chicken claws and bowls of unusual stones. Jars lined the dusty shelves, their murky liquid held strange suspended shapes that pressed up against the glass. Spider webs floated lazily from wrought iron candle holders, their wispy tendrils luminescent against the storming sky.

Something moved outside the door. A familiar shuffle-drag that sent a quiver of fear sizzling up my spine.

My hand flew to my mouth, to keep the scream from escaping, and I flailed at the counters and shelves with my other. Over papers and discarded debris, my fingers closed over a pillar shape, and I clutched the candlestick to my chest, quaking.

A long scratch trailed down the outside of the door. It sounded like twisted talons.

I gritted my teeth, hands shaking, waiting. The air changed around me, the temperature plunged and my breath flared out in a cloud of vapor. Shivering, I turned at a noise to my left, widening my eyes, trying to see better. Frost crackled along the surface of the wall mounted mirror, the edges going white as a chill billowed over it. Unable to pull my gaze away, I panted, frozen in place. A low moan floated out from behind the wall, and then Crawley’s image jerked across the surface and was gone. I screamed and thrashed at the mirror with the candlestick, my mind firing with panic.

Banging at the door made me turn, swinging, fear vaulting in my chest.

“Raven!” Sonja’s frightened voice came through. “Raven, are you in there?”

I yanked the chair and flung the door open, my heart stuttering. “Did you see it?” I shouted, pulling her into the room, searching the hallway. “Is it gone?”

She held onto me, her face a mask of confusion and concern. “See what? What are you saying?”

The shattered mirror was behind me and I dropped the candlestick, sobs tearing from my chest.

“I think it’s after me,” I cried, my shoulders heaving as I sank to the floor. “I should have told…I should have told the truth.”