“I trusted them. I thought they would help us. I thought they would help you,” he said, looking at her with desperate eyes.
And that was when they heard a man’s scream—sharp and otherworldly. They froze there, staring at one another, the same thought pulsing through them both—Tom. Without another word, they raced through the trees, back toward the village, toward the scream.
As soon as they saw the body, Rowan knew it wasn’t Tom, but the sight was so horrific that she was overcome. There in the snow, his rifle beside him on the ground, Goi Tate lay splayed out, his chest a bloody cavern.
Some distance through the woods, Rowan heard movement—the snapping of branches, the crushing of snow.
Jude took her hand. “We have to go. Before it comes back. We have to get inside the village barrier.”
17. STRENGTH
OUT IN THE woods, Fiona kissed Tom between his eyes. He sighed and cocked his head.
“I think I’m changing,” Tom said, but she only laughed. “I don’t know who I am anymore.”
“I know who you are,” Fiona said, smiling. “And I think you’re wonderful.”
“This anger, this violence inside me,” he said. “It grows stronger every day. I fear it will consume me.” Gazing at the coin she wore around her neck, he remembered Jude’s words. The elders had seen an evil in their house, and Tom knew they were right to have seen it, but the evil hadn’t emanated from a person. It was the coin that they’d sensed. He took a step toward Fiona. “It comes from there. It draws me to it. I need it to stop. Please, Fiona, make it stop.”
Fiona’s face grew serious, and grasping the coin around her neck, she took a step away from him as if to shield it. “What would you have me do?”
He looked at the coin and then back to her face. “It makes me sick. It turns me inside out and makes me crave things—things that frighten me.”
“What things?” she asked, her expression curious.
“Violence. Blood. I nearly killed my brother today. I stood over him, ready to plunge a knife into his heart, and I don’t know why. It was as if there was no other choice. And I know it was that—that thing. It drives me to do things. Please, Fiona.”
She shook her head, insistent. “There’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Yes, there is,” he pleaded, moving to touch her. But just as he stepped toward her, she stepped away. “Get rid of it. Destroy it.”
“You would have me destroy it?” she asked, shocked. “But I need it. I cannot live without it.”
“Of course you can. Please understand, that coin, it will drive me to do things I will regret. Since the moment I found it, things have gone wrong. Up on that mountain, when I found it buried in the snow, somehow I knew. I just knew, but I took it anyway. Even when I forgot about it, when I packed my heavy coat away in the attic, the coin in the pocket, I believe I still felt it calling to me even then. And then, when I put it around your neck, everything changed. Don’t you see? It was as if the world turned sour after that. If I hadn’t found it, if I hadn’t given it to you, maybe everything would be okay right now. Maybe it still could be. I am begging you to destroy it.”
She moved close to him, and taking his head in her hands, she peered into his eyes. “I will help you. I will teach you how to control your urges as I am learning to control mine. When that girl, my cousin, came into the woods earlier today, do you think I did not want to tear her throat from her wispy frame? Do you think I did not want to consume her? But I fought the urge because I promised you I would not kill again.”
Tom bowed his head. “Then we have to leave.”
“What?” she asked, shocked. “Where would we go?”
“Up north,” he said, a plan formulating in his mind. “Away from people. If I am to turn into a monster, then I want to be where I can do no harm to innocents.”
“But we’re happy here,” she said, sad-eyed. “I can control it. I can help you control it as well.”
And that was when they heard it—the crack, the scream, and Fiona’s eyes grew wide.
“What … what’s happening?” Tom drew near her, terrified she was injured, but then she sighed, and as she arched her back, a delicious smile spread over her face.
“Are you okay?” he asked, gripping her tightly.
Eyes wild and sparkling, she licked her lips. “I feel wonderful,” she said. And then fear spread over her face. “Oh, Tom. Oh, Tom, no.”
“What is it?”
“It has fed. Oh, Tom, I am so sorry.”
“No,” Tom said, understanding immediately. “You said it did what you bid.”
“It does,” she said, bewildered. “It did. But it was so hungry, Tom, and something strayed into the woods tonight.”
“Oh Goddess, my Goddess,” Tom moaned, pacing. “Is it my brother? Is it Jude?”
Fiona tilted her head, feeling what the beast felt. “No … I don’t think so.”
“We have to leave,” he said, and this time when he spoke, he saw on her face that she understood he was right. “We are a sickness—a plague. We have to sequester ourselves, take that beast with us where we can hurt no man.”
Fiona started to shake her head, but it was not worth fighting.
“I need to say goodbye to my family,” Tom said, speaking quickly, as if trying to piece everything together. “Then we’ll go away from here. We’ll leave tonight. We’ll start anew somewhere else. We won’t hurt anyone.”
Fiona closed her eyes, and then she nodded. “I need to say goodbye to Lareina. She is buried where you pointed out to me—on the cliff above the lake?”
“Yes,” he said, relief consuming him. “That’s right. Up Cairn Hill at the Mouth of the Goddess. I will meet you there, and then we will go.”
Taking her hands in his, he stared into her eyes, and then, without another word, each went their own way into the night.
By the time Rowan and Jude reached her house, they were out of breath, their lungs bursting, and Rowan was on the verge of tears. Flinging open the door, she screamed for her father. She ran to his study but found it empty. Footsteps on the stairs sent relief flooding through her, but a moment later, when the duke emerged into the hall, she was overtaken by a sudden sense of uneasiness.
“What is it?” he asked, concerned.
“There’s been another attack,” Jude said, breathless. “In the woods. Goi Tate. I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do.”
The duke ran a hand through his hair, thinking for a moment before he spoke. “Jude, you come with me. We’ll go to your father’s tavern and gather what men we can. Perhaps we can catch the beast while it’s still afoot. Rowan, you lock the door behind us. Don’t let anyone in.”
“Okay,” Rowan said, confused and terrified. “Where is my father?”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “But I don’t know. Merrilee is asleep upstairs. Will you keep an eye on her for me?”
Nervously, he wrung his hands, the silver rings catching the moonlight and casting a glittering veil over Rowan’s eyes. She turned away, a tightening in her chest, and suddenly, though she couldn’t say why, she was newly afraid.
“Of course,” she said, though the words came out as no more than a whisper.
“Thank you,” the duke said, and then, turning to Jude, he added, “Come along. I suspect we have a full night ahead of us.”
She watched them leave, the heavy oak door shaking the house when the duke pulled it closed behind him. Once they had gone, Rowan stood alone in the hallway, feeling very much as if icy hands were gripping her shoulders. Shivering, she tried to understand the source of her fear. She stood very still, listening to the old house creak and breathe, settling into its foundations, as Emily used to say. Her teeth began to chatter, and her thoughts fell to the rings the duke wore on his left hand. That was what had frightened her, what continued to frighten her, though the reason she could not place.