by Emma Hamm
Amicia turned the doorknob and opened the door. She stepped out of the servants’ quarters and into a long hallway that took her breath away.
The ceiling was hand painted with scenes of knights on noble steeds, their hunting dogs racing away ahead of them after a white hart. Each painting was more detailed than the last, stretching so far down the hallway that she couldn’t even see the end of the murals.
Chandeliers larger than she was tall hung from the ceiling. Delicate pieces of glass shifted in the wind coming through the broken windows, creating a clinking music that danced through the hall. On the walls, gold braziers hung just above white marble statues of the most beautiful people she’d ever seen in her life. The closest was a woman wrapped in a robe, one breast bare. Her face looked as though she had been frozen in a moment of time, for no artist could carve a face that perfect.
Holding up her torch, Amicia stepped down the hall. Her boots crunched broken glass shards everywhere she went, but she ignored the danger. Instead, she allowed her eyes to feast on the sights before her. She couldn’t get enough, drunk on the artwork, the beauty, and the splendor she would likely never see again in her lifetime.
What family had lived here? Were the statues a likeness of the people who had called this place their home? Surely not. No one was so handsome in real life.
Amicia stopped in front of a knight. His armor had been carved with such detail she could see the scratch marks from battles long before. Staring up into his cold, vacant eyes, she lifted the torch higher just so she could see more of the details.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
The carved figure was so lifelike, she would have sworn the marble eyes turned to look at her and his lips pursed as though he would answer her.
Something shattered down the hall, glass or perhaps some kind of pottery against the floor. Amicia ducked into the small alcove behind the knight.
What was it her father always said? Where there is one Dread, there are many.
As if in slow motion, the back of the knight shifted. A large slab of marble had propped it against the wall, holding it up for all eternity. But when she moved behind it, the statue shifted.
Amicia put her back against the stone and wedged her feet against the wall. Another shard cracked. She caught it just before it hit the ground, but also dropped her torch as well.
The fabric at the end hit the floor while the wooden handle thankfully landed on her foot. All the sounds were muffled.
Please don’t be loud enough for something to hear, she thought.
Amicia remained frozen in the shadows, hidden behind the blocky form of the knight, holding it in place. Her fire flickered, then guttered out. Something approached down the hall. She knew the sound all too well, and it made her breath catch in her chest.
Strange tapping, followed by the slow slithering of a tail.
The Dread had found her. How? She had been so careful, and none of them had seen her cross the lake or she would have heard the flapping of their wings. Her footprints wouldn’t be left in the snow, not with the wind covering them.
She held herself still. The Dread was nearly upon her, but this time there was another sound attached to its movement. The sound of something heavy being dragged.
Holding her breath, she shifted position and peered around the knight’s shoulder. The Dread walking toward her pulled a body behind itself. A man, unconscious and limp. The creature held the man’s collar and pulled him down the long hall. It didn’t seem inconvenienced by the additional weight.
As she watched, time seemed to slow. The Dread pulled the man past her and she stared down into a familiar face. Remy. He’d survived Little Marsh--perhaps others had, too. A bloom of hope grew in her chest.
An unkempt beard covered his chin, and Amicia had told him many times to cut it. Remy wasn’t old enough to grow a beard, even though he was a man now. He wanted people to think of him as older, so he didn’t mind if his beard was patchy. At least he looked like he was trying.
The Dread stomped down the hall but did not enter the kitchens as she feared. Instead, it went through a different door on the left she hadn’t noticed, then disappeared from sight with her townsman in tow.
Amicia’s fingers had yet to find feeling in them. She was cold, tired, and scared out of her wits. This place was infested with the Dread. It seemed there was nowhere she could hide from them.
Her knees shook and her palms slicked with sweat. She was frozen in place, incapable of moving even the slightest. She was stuck. Where could she go when she had wandered into the den of beasts?
Her father’s voice whispered in her ear, Rational thinking, dear one. Think.
A chateau this large must have some kind of cottage nearby where the huntsmen might have lived. That would be safer than staying in this building teeming with the very creatures who had hunted her people down.
A single woman couldn’t save anyone from the clutches of hundreds of beasts. They were stronger. It didn’t matter her gut told her to help. She couldn’t save Remy. She shouldn’t even try, else she lose her own life.
Amicia searched the hall for any of the other Dread. No one stepped forward, and the only sound was the whistling of the wind. A gust of air brushed snow onto the marble floors through the nearest broken window.
Carefully, she let the statue lean back against the wall, propped once more. She hopped down from the alcove and took one step toward the window. Though the shards of glass made it more dangerous, she could step out onto the grounds and be gone in a moment’s notice.
From the door on the left, came a shout of fear.
“No!” Remy’s voice echoed through the hall. “No, please don’t!”
She winced. The window was so close. Her freedom was right there, and there was nothing she could do to stop Remy from whatever fate he now faced.
Don’t, she warned herself. Amicia, don’t.
But her feet turned on their own accord. She reached down and pulled off her boots. And though her toes ached with the cold, she was still silent in each step closer to the door.
The Dread were just beyond.
Amicia pressed her hand against the closed entrance. She could almost feel the panic in the room beyond where Remy continued to shout for mercy. There would only be one chance, and if they saw her…
She didn’t want to think about that.
Slowly, she eased her shoulder against the door and let it swing open just enough for her to poke her head through.
Arches outlined the long hallway that led to a throne. A second level above the arches made it look like a monastery, or perhaps a courtroom where prisoners awaited judgement. Each arch was carved out of white marble, lilies of the valley and English ivy decorating every inch. The floor was white and black checkered, seeming to draw the eye to the throne at the end of the hallway.
Amicia’s eyes found him. The largest Dread she had ever seen, and the others were much larger than a human. But this one? This one could only be their king.
He lounged on the throne, so tall his crimson wings draped over the back and their tips folded onto the floor. His legs were as large as tree trunks, his tail coiled around an ankle and tipped with a wicked barb. The other Dread were gray skinned, but his skin was like charcoal. Twin horns rose from his head, larger than life and twisted back toward his skull. Matted dark hair hung between the horns and rested atop his arms, his hair nearly longer than hers.
She’d seen nothing like him before.
The Dread dragged Remy to the throne where it tossed him like a child dropping a doll. Remy turned onto hands and knees, begging the large Dread to release him.
“Please,” he whimpered, his words echoing in the hall. “I am but a poor servant. I’ve done nothing. I beg you for mercy.”
She’d never heard the Dread speak. And this creature was no different. When he lifted a hand, the sound of a hundred wings beat through the air.
Amicia looked up at the second level of arches. Twin walls of
the Dread stepped forward to stare down at Remy. There were more than she could count, all standing at attention, their wings folded back, their gray faces grim.
There would be no mercy here. And there was no way for her to save Remy, not with so many of the Dread who would kill her on sight.
Her fingers clenched on the door. She stared at the largest of the Dread, who had his hand raised. Slowly, his fingers curled into his palm, his thumb remaining up. Then, he tilted his hand down until the clawed thumb pointed at the ground.
“What does that mean?” Remy asked, his voice frantic. “What does that mean?”
The Dread behind him stepped forward, lifted a clawed hand, and brought it down upon Remy’s back. Three ragged tears sliced through Remy’s shirt. Three bloody lines appeared, blood oozing from them and dripping down his back.
He let out a scream that made the hairs on her arms rise. It wasn’t the scream of a man, but a monster. His voice warped from the warm tones she had known into something howling with rage.
Even from her distance, she could see his body changing. His spine arched, bulges appearing that shouldn’t be there. Something moved underneath the skin of his back. Snakes underneath the long columns of back muscles, writhing with every movement. Then, two wings split open the skin of his back. They flared out of his body, even as he leaned forward and dug his now clawed hands at the floor.
Tears slid down her cheeks, and she pressed a hand to her mouth to silence her own cries. The howling rage of his voice filled the air, but that was no longer Remy. Her father had been right. They weren’t trying to kill her people. They were building an army, and all they needed was to bring everyone back to this chateau to turn them into slathering beasts like the rest of them.
Amicia stepped away from the door, unable to watch what happened next. She couldn’t bear to see him as anything other than the miller’s boy who used to throw apples at her when she got too close to him.
Why had she thought she could save him? She? She was just the tinker’s daughter who had gotten too close to the monsters underneath the bed.
She grabbed onto her skirts to still the shaking of her hands. The huntsmen’s cottage was her only chance at a small bit of safety. They wouldn’t search there, not right under their noses. They couldn’t.
In her haste to leave, Amicia didn’t notice the stand with a candlestick beside it. Her hip caught the table at the right angle to rattle the candlestick.
She snagged it, stilling the sound.
All fell silent.
She would have heard a hairpin drop onto the floor, and that was somehow worse than the howls of pain from Remy who had also paused to listen.
A voice in her head whispered, Run.
Amicia bolted toward the kitchen even as the first call resounded from within the strange room beyond. The braying of hunting hounds chased her down the hall.
Chapter 5
Her heart thundered in her chest, and her lungs heaved for air even as her vision swam with dark spots. They were coming for her. Hunting her like nothing more than prey they could catch in their claws.
The pattering sound of her footsteps was too loud, even to her own ears. They would find her if she didn’t hide. Tuck herself into another nook or cranny and hopefully find a few moments of peace. Moments to figure out how she would get out of this chateau and out into the forest once more.
Fire. If only she hadn’t lost her torch.
Amicia raced into the kitchen, catching herself on the door just before she slammed into the wall. She turned and closed the door behind her. The loud click of the door handle was the pound of a nail in her coffin.
They heard the sound. The hungry growls followed, the clicks of their nails on the floor, and the soft hush of their wings beating at the air.
She spun on her heel and pressed her back against the solid wood. There was no lock. She only had a few heartbeats to save herself.
She could run out the back door and into the snow once more, but the chateau had little cover from the sky, and they would find her if she bolted. They would hunt from above as they had in her own village.
Remy... He might be with them, perhaps, and she wouldn’t even be able to recognize him.
Did it mean her people were still alive? Surely not. She had burned the city to the ground like her father had requested. No one could have survived that. They must have caught him before she’d spilled the braziers and taken away their chances of turning her people into monsters.
The knot of guilt that had churned her stomach for so long now eased. She understood why her father had been so set this must happen.. Her people would have died a horrible death either way. At least with the fire, their souls had burned away, clean and pure.
She shook her head and stepped away from the door. Her father had not raised a daughter who would freeze in fear. The back door wasn’t an option, but old chateaux such as this hid many secrets. Perhaps passages allowing the servants to move easier.
All she had to do was find one before the creatures found her. If she was right, then she would live a few more moments as a human. If she wasn’t…
A shiver trailed down her spine like one of the Dread had run their nail down her back. If she was wrong, then life as she knew it would cease, but her body would continue on.
She ran to the wall where all the pots and pans hung, then swept her fingers over the stones. There had to be something. Some hidden latch she could pull or a button she could push to reveal the chateau’s mysteries.
The pounding feet of creatures passed the door. Their claws scraped the ground as they moved, but it was the thud and slide of a wing hitting the kitchen door that made her flinch. They had passed by the servants’ quarters for now, a small blessing that wouldn’t last for very long.
Her shoulder hit a pan.
It swung on its hook, and each swing was a clock ticking down to her last breath until it fell and struck the stone floor.
The clang was enough to warn the Dread where she was. She froze but already knew she had limited her time even more. A call resounded through the hallway beyond, and the hunt changed directions.
The door bulged forward as something strong hit it from the other side. Amicia dropped onto her hands and knees, then crawled underneath the table below the pots and pans. She pulled herself as tight as she could, wishing there was more than just a few baskets full of rotten vegetables to hide behind.
Please. If there is anyone listening, please help me.
The door rocked forward again, this time the wood splintering. A clawed hand reached through the gap, and a yellow eye stared through the warped wood. It rotated wildly in the socket until it settled on her, their gazes locked. The eye disappeared as more of the creatures clustered around the opening.
She had only moments of control remaining over her own body, of knowing she was still herself.
Amicia shifted backward again, pushing with her heels until her back hit the wall. A small click echoed in her ear, and a tiny panel in the wall opened underneath the table.
She held her breath. Surely, this wasn’t something the servants had used. It was only large enough for a child to fit through, or a small woman who was thin enough to slide through.
The time to think had already passed. Amicia jolted forward and shoved at the panel. The stone gave way beneath her hand, allowing her to push it open and slide through on her belly. She pulled herself into the narrow tunnel beyond.
She could just barely remain crouched once she slid through the narrow opening. Stone on either side pressed against her sides and stone from above touched her head and back. But it was enough room to slither through the walls.
She kicked out with her foot behind her and touched the loose stone that had opened the panel. The rock slid back into place as the door shattered and the creatures burst into the room.
Amicia moved. A heavy net of spiderwebs filled the strange tunnel. Their gossamer threads clung to her hair, stuck to her lips and face, and tangled i
n the long length of skirts trailing behind her. The many legs of spiders skittered along her arms and back, angry she had so carelessly destroyed their hard work.
She choked the whimpers in her throat, swallowing whimpers until they lodged in her chest like peach pits.
Hand over hand, she dragged herself through the small tunnel in the wall until it opened into a space between rooms. The hidden area where servants might have brought food, drink, or messages between nobility who had gorged themselves on fine dining and solitude.
Amicia straightened, her bones aching as though she had aged years in just a few moments. The fear had drained from her body, leaving behind nothing but an empty husk who didn’t know what to do.
Her father.
Remy.
Little Marsh.
What did she have left now? Just herself, the breath in her lungs, and the knowledge her father would never have wanted her to give up.
Keep on living, he had once told her. When the darkness closes in on you, that is the only way you can defeat it. Continue to live in defiance of all the shadows want to take from you. Keep the light inside your chest burning.
And so, that was all she had. All she could continue doing.
Amicia blew out a breath. The space wasn’t large, but there was enough room to breathe without feeling like the stone was closing in on her. Beams crossed above her head, disappearing into the shadows and weighed down with so many cobwebs she could hardly imagine how many spiders called this place their home.
Dim, silver light filtered through small holes in the walls where the servants might have watched the nobles in the days when this chateau had been more splendorous than haunting. A few square stones were missing from their places, so she’d have to duck under them or the Dread might see her.
She brushed the cobwebs from her shoulders and moved forward. Gingerly. Each step she chose with careful precision, as she’d already made enough mistakes for the night.
Amicia reached up and brushed aside a thick blanket of web, only to find herself at a crossroads. There were three different tunnels, each leading in opposite directions.