“Get into the bath.”
“What?”
“Now, Aliza!”
I hadn’t imagined Pansy, sweet little thing that she was, to be capable of shouting. I lurched into action, hopping obediently into the empty crystal basin without another thought of protest. At once, the witch began circling the tub in short, hurried steps, muttering incoherently all the while. Her light came from an ornate lantern, swinging from one hand. The other hand sprinkled powder of some sort in a circular trail. I held my torrent of questions at bay and stayed silent apart from my thundering heart and shallow breaths. Was this normal witch behaviour? Some fun sleepover ritual? It had to be. They’d promised that Nairsgarth castle was safe. Any moment now, Pansy would smile and explain it all. Maybe it was an initiation into the coven.
No matter what explanations my sleep logged brain offered up, I couldn’t quell my unease, not when Pansy’s face told me everything I needed to know.
This, whatever it was, was bad.
I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself and thinking longingly of the duvet left in a heap beside my bed. I didn’t dare ask if I could retrieve it, or even just my robe.
Pansy finished her muttering and vaulted into the tub. At last, her eyes lifted to mine. I didn’t bother to repeat my questions.
“The castle is under attack,” she whispered. “Maelgwyn has sent his shades.”
“Shades?” I parroted, a chill skating down my spine. The same shades I’d narrowly avoided on my first night in Neath? The ones Jacques had warned me of? I glanced to the dark corners of the cavernous bathroom, where Pansy’s light failed to penetrate the shadows. Nothing stirred, thank God. Not yet, anyway.
The witch nodded. “Creatures of shadow. They travel by darkness. They’re immune to wards and weapons. We have no way to fight them off.”
Okay, so this was really bad.
“All we can do is wait for it to end and pray.”
Well, I wouldn’t be doing the latter, no matter how dire the situation. Then again, if witches and fairies were real, why not gods? I glanced around again. The bathroom was empty but for us. “Where are the other witches?”
“Hiding, with any luck.” Pansy sank down, crossing her legs. The lantern rattled as she placed it on the bottom of the tub with quaking hands. My heart forgot to beat as the flame guttered, plunging low, but it recovered, bathing the room in light.
I sat opposite Pansy, trying not to envy the knitted dressing gown she wore over her nightdress, or the slippers on her feet. The cold, smooth crystal nipped at the bare skin of my legs and seeped through the thin fabric of my nightdress, chilling my backside.
“My mother woke me,” Pansy continued in hushed tones. “This is her lantern. It’s not enough to stop them on its own, but combined with the protection circle, it should repel them.”
Should. The word did nothing to comfort me. “What happens if it's not enough?”
The witch’s plump lips thinned, and she held my gaze for a long moment before answering. “The shades come at night and take people from their beds. Usually fae, but sometimes witches. They never come back. Nobody really knows what happens to them, but knowing Maelgwyn…”
She didn’t need to finish her sentence. The other witches had mentioned children being taken from their beds to be used by Maelgwyn. I’d only discovered the sorcerer's existence a few hours ago, but I’d heard enough that my imagination ran rampant with ideas of what ‘used’ might mean, each worse than the last. I shivered, opening my mouth to ask another question, but my words dried up on my tongue.
The darkness at the edges of the room swelled and grew, spreading across the floor like fingers of smoke. Pansy gave a tiny, squeaking gasp and huddled in on herself, eyes screwed shut. I did no such thing. Paralysed by fear, I stared open-mouthed as the shadow rose into the air, the hairs on my arms rising with it as it shifted into a vaguely human form. Glowing, white eyes sparked to life, and though they were devoid of pupils, the shudder in my soul told me the shade looked straight back at me.
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. All I could do was stare into those glaring, white eyes.
Maybe it was because I was huddled at the bottom of a bath, or maybe it was because I had a vague idea of what the creature was capable of, but it seemed much larger than the one I’d spotted on the riverbank. It towered over us, a shifting shape of dense darkness.
Worst of all, it wasn’t alone. Identical, wispy figures rose from the floor all around us, their impossible forms wafting like smoke. They drifted to the tub, pressing close, shoulder to gently whirling shoulder. Were they smoke or shadow? How could they exist? Why were they here?
Many blank eyes drank in the sight of us. They clamoured closer, crowding my end of the tub, their shadows merging. Were they after me?
God, no. This was the last thing I needed. Pansy’s protection circle seemed incredibly feeble as the wall of shades grew denser, blocking everything beyond the tub. A ring of darkness, with only a sprinkle of powder and a skittering flame preventing them from snatching me away.
What would become of me if the murderous, human-hating king got his hands on me?
The nearest shade grew denser, its shadows bordering on solid form. What was, unmistakably, a claw like hand lifted, reaching for me.
With a shuddering gasp, I leaned away, only to remember my assailant’s fellows on my far side.
Shit. This was it. This was how I died. Somehow, I couldn’t tear my horrified eyes away as death itself reached for me.
The shade’s hand sizzled as its fingers crossed the circle, and the beast snatched it back, letting out a hideous hiss.
Fervent relief surged through my terror. It worked. Pansy’s magic worked.
The witch began muttering again, rocking back and forth. Whatever she said only seemed to aggravate the monsters. The tendrils drifting from them snapped and jerked, like flames caught in the wind. Another drawn-out hiss sent a shiver streaking down my spine.
The shades grew agitated, their coiling and furling movements becoming sharper, as though a brisk wind tugged at them. They faded back a step, circling the tub. Were they searching for a way through Pansy’s protection circle? Was the light not strong enough to drive them away?
I glanced again at the dark window. No hint of dawn offered to save us from whatever fate the shades had in store. Hours of night lay ahead. Shuffling closer to Pansy and the lantern, I reached for the witch’s hands. She clamped her small yet surprisingly strong fingers around mine and squeezed.
Please, I begged a god I didn’t believe in. Please make them go away. Don’t let us die.
If there was an old man in the sky looking down on us, I had no right to ask him for anything. I didn’t believe a word of any religion. I scoffed at it. I believed in science. As far as I knew, witches were the natural enemy of the church, but there I was, clinging to Pansy and praying for our survival while monsters swarmed around a giant magic crystal. The pope would burn me at the stake for this.
My pulse thudding in my ears was my only indication of time passing us by. A drumbeat, leading us to morning, to the safety of sunshine. I focused on the sound, letting it ground me with its insistent reminder that I was still alive, somehow. At times, I could have sworn an echoing beat answered from the crystal pressed against my skin.
The shades made no further attempts to reach me as time slithered by. I tried to resist the urge, when my eyes slid sideways. My heart swelled with hope. Most of the monsters had vanished, faded back to wherever they’d come from. Only three remained. One lingered nearby, maintaining its vigil, but the other two meandered closer to the dark edges of the bathroom. Even as I watched, one faded out of existence as though it had never been. Maybe it hadn’t. Maybe this was all one drawn-out, hellish nightmare.
No. Even I couldn’t convince myself of that anymore.
