She closed her eyes as if that could stop it, but she opened them again when, with a crash, the monster came lurching through the trees, its gaping maw extended, its daggered teeth ready to devour. Rowan screamed, her body paralyzed with fear, but then the creature stopped abruptly directly in front of her, and with those empty eyes—the eyes of the dead—it stared into her, and it seemed to Rowan that it knew her every thought.
Fiona took a step toward the creature, and reaching up, she stroked it as one might a beloved pet, and then, at some unspoken communication between them, the beast retreated, backing away into the trees. Rowan’s eyes were trained on it as it grew horribly still and seemed almost to become part of the whiteness itself, disappearing into the trees, into the snow. If it hadn’t been for its steaming clouds of breath, Rowan would never have known it was there.
“Curious,” Fiona said, turning her attention to her cousin, but Rowan was so petrified that she could barely feel her feet, let alone speak. “It didn’t hurt you. It’s so very hungry, you see. And yet it didn’t hurt you.”
The girl wrinkled her brow, seemingly disturbed by the idea, and then she turned to Rowan.
“What … what is that … thing?” Rowan whispered.
“A friend. And like I say, it’s so hungry,” she said, and reaching out, she tucked a strand of Rowan’s hair behind her ear. “Incidentally, so am I. I think you’d better go now.”
Rowan began to shake uncontrollably.
“I … can go now?” she asked, barely able to form the words.
The dead girl smiled at her, and then she nodded. “I think you’d better. But remember”—then she held a finger to her lips—“shhh.”
Jude was cleaning up outside the shed when he heard approaching footsteps. Expecting Rowan, he dusted off his trousers but was surprised to see Tom. Tom, with that strange haze to his eyes, that simmering violence just below the surface, took a step back when he saw his brother.
“I don’t want to talk,” he growled, and headed for the inn, but Jude stopped him.
“I know,” Jude said, grabbing Tom by the shoulders and holding him still. “I know where you’ve been going, and I know what she is.”
Tom pulled away. “Leave it alone, Jude. You don’t understand what’s happening. You can’t know.”
“But I do know. I know exactly what’s happening, and it needs to stop.”
“Forget it,” Tom snapped, turning toward the woods. “It was dumb to think I could come back here.”
“People think it’s you,” Jude said. “They’re probably combing the forest for you right now. They think you’ve lost your mind, Tom. They think you killed those people.”
“Me?” Tom laughed.
“I’m trying to protect you,” Jude said. “What are you becoming? Where is my brother who enjoys helping the elderly and who always has a kind word for his fellows? It drives me crazy, but that’s the person you are. Come back to us. Even if you don’t feel normal, you need to start acting normal or else the tide of suspicion that’s already turned against you will grow. The elders came to talk to Father when this all started. They said their oracles told them there was an evil hanging over our house.”
“An evil over our house?” Tom asked, his eyes seeming somewhere very far off. “When? When did they say that?”
“Right after the soldiers died. If they tell the others, that will be enough. They’ll hang you, Tom. They will.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Tom said, his eyes growing increasingly clouded. “You’re being paranoid.”
“Have you seen your face? Do you have any idea what you’re doing to our parents—to Rowan?”
Tom spun around, his eyes suddenly alight with a haunting kind of fire. “I don’t care,” he said. “None of that matters anymore. Who I was before, that wasn’t me. I didn’t know who I was then. I know now. This is who I am. I’ve found the thing that every man seeks, and I’m not letting it go.”
“It’s unholy,” Jude said, and Tom stared back at him with hatred in his eyes. “I’m sorry that she died. It was a tragedy, a horrific tragedy, but it’s what was meant to be. She was dead. She’s supposed to stay dead.”
“But she’s not dead,” Tom said, his face slowly contorting so that when Jude looked at him, he saw little more than an animal. “Don’t you see? She’s not dead. She’s here, and she loves me.”
Jude shook his head. “No, Tom. She is dead. You found her dead in the snow with her heart torn from her chest. You saw her yourself laid out in that casket.”
Before Jude could say more, Tom drew his fist back, and with all his fury, he hit his brother in the face, throwing him backward into the snow. Jude tried to scramble up, but Tom was on top of him, and Jude was blinded by the pain.
And then Tom released him.
Jude lay on the ground a moment, trying to understand what was happening. He heard footsteps, and then the shed door opening. Confused, his head throbbing in pain, he wondered what Tom could possibly want in the shed.
By the time Jude realized the answer, it was too late, and his brother was on top of him again, knee to his stomach, holding the hunting knife directly over his heart.
“No!” Jude screamed. And through the blood, Jude’s eyes locked with his brother’s, and in them he saw only evil.
Jude struggled, but Tom overpowered him. He hovered over Jude, knife held aloft, but instead of plunging it down, Tom tore open Jude’s shirt and dragged the knife slowly across the skin of his chest. The pain was excruciating, and Jude cried out in agony.
It was as if the cry awakened something in Tom. Suddenly he stopped, his eyes grew wide for a second, they cleared, and then he looked at the knife in his hand in horror. He dropped it in the snow, and running off, he disappeared into the woods, leaving his brother writhing in agony.
When Rowan found Jude, he was washing the blood from his torso. His face was swollen but no longer bleeding.
“Goddess!” she cried. “What happened to you?”
He flinched when he saw her and then looked away, obviously ashamed. “Tom” was all he said.
Reaching out with trembling fingers, she touched his chest, careful not to aggravate the wound. “He did this to you?”
“He sure did,” Jude said, unable to keep the anger from his voice.
With great pain, he pulled his shirt back on and began buttoning it up.
“But that needs dressing,” she said, concerned.
“Mama Lune will help me. I was waiting for you, but I don’t think you should come with me.”
“What?” she said, hurt. “Why not?”
“We have to go through the woods to get to her, and I have no clue what’s happening here. I don’t know what to fear or how much to fear it. All I know is how much danger we’re in, and how much happier I would be if you were safe, locked in your house, than out in the woods with me, especially so near nightfall.”
“No,” she said firmly. “I’m coming. Besides, being locked in a house did nothing to protect Arlene or Emily.”
He started to argue with her, but when he saw the determination in her eyes, he knew it would be useless.
“Fine,” he said, defeated. “But we have to hurry. It will be dark soon.”