by E. Latimer
Edgar looked stricken at this, and he stammered his outrage. “That’s not…that isn’t—”
Emma’d had enough of this. “Shut it, both of you!”
They both turned to stare at her, shocked, and Emma scowled back at them. Her head was still spinning from Eliza’s revelation about her grandmother, but they couldn’t afford to fall apart now.
She had goosebumps running up both arms, and she kept wanting to jerk around and look over her shoulder. They were too exposed standing in the middle of the street arguing like this, too vulnerable to anyone, or anything, that might be watching.
“This isn’t helping anything. We’ve got to keep walking. We keep going, and we find Lenore. Like the ambassador said.”
A beat of silence followed this. Eliza and Edgar both looked deflated.
Maddie’s voice was quiet. “But how?”
Emma’s thoughts were turning rapidly.
“Alright, look. I don’t think it’s true that this is Witch City—or at least, it’s not the whole truth. The forest here has obviously been growing for years. If Witch City was destroyed years ago, the queen would have told her people.” She glanced over at Edgar. “You know she loves her speeches. But that poster on the train said she was still looking for information. The ambassador said we had to get through the In-Between first, so this can’t be Witch City, right?”
Slowly, Eliza and Maddie nodded. Eliza sniffed and shook out her arms, her glower fading slightly. For a second she stared down at the flames, blinking, and shook her arms again. At last the fire died out.
Edgar still didn’t look convinced.
“We’re going to go to the edge of the city, on the other side, because that’s what the ambassador said to do,” Emma said firmly.
She had no idea if that was right, or if it was even possible with the way the city was moving, but they had to do something. Nothing good was going to come of standing there shouting at one another.
“Right,” Maddie said eagerly, and a little desperately, Emma thought. Eliza only nodded, though she looked less panicked. Edgar said nothing; he just shuffled his boots over the cobblestones, pressing his lips together tightly.
He was clearly trying to keep himself from giving orders or lecturing them about something, and Emma turned away quickly, before he could get started.
Truth was, the sight of the witch statue had sent a dagger of cold fear through her stomach, and she felt about as sick as Edgar looked. If he was right, and this was Witch City, they really were in trouble.
She’d hadn’t been sure what to expect, but it certainly hadn’t been to find Witch City abandoned and overgrown…
But there was no sense getting the others worked up all over again.
“Let’s go.” She began to move away from the statue, but they’d hardly taken two steps when the shaking began.
This time it was more violent, and Emma pitched forward, nearly falling. Eliza grabbed the sleeve of her dress to steady her and Emma found herself clinging to the others, arm wrapped around Maddie, hand clutching Edgar’s wrist, desperately yelling “STAY TOGETHER” over the roar of noise as the earth bucked and surged below them.
She could see buildings rushing past, and her mouth dropped open a second later when she realized why they were moving so fast. The buildings weren’t moving—it was the street they were on. It was whipping forward like the head of a cobra about to strike, so fast their surroundings were a blur. Emma had to squeeze her eyes shut as they sliced through the bases of buildings, which melted out of the way as if made of smoke.
It was the type of thing that might drive you mad if you watched for too long.
At last the street lurched to a halt, and the four of them staggered, collapsing in a heap on the cobblestones.
Emma cracked her eyes open and uncurled slightly. She groaned as someone shifted and an elbow dug sharply into her ribcage.
“Sorry,” Maddie whispered in her left ear.
Slowly they untangled themselves and looked around.
They appeared to be in quite a different part of town. The buildings here were bigger, for one, and the streets less crammed together. There were bright striped awnings, windowpanes of frosted glass, and colorful displays in the windows of tea shops. It was all just as faded and crumbling as the last part of town they’d seen, but there had obviously been wealth here at one time.
They had landed directly across from a hat shop. The center window in the storefront had been shattered, and ivy had grown up into the display of hats. The hats were all rather moldy looking, and it appeared that a family of mice may have sampled the wares, because a number of them had holes nibbled in the brims.
For a moment, nobody said anything. Then Maddie shrugged, still in the midst of dusting off the hem of her dress, and said, “Anyone fancy a hat?”
It was ludicrous, but Emma couldn’t stifle the laughter that burst out of her. Even Edgar looked faintly amused, and Eliza shook her head, one corner of her mouth inching upward.
Emma was still staring at the display, nose wrinkled as she imagined trying on one of the moldy lumps on the hat stands, when she saw it—a flicker of movement in the window, a flash of black between two towers of faded pink hatboxes.
She backed up a step, heart cramming into her throat.
“Uh, I think I saw—” Her voice cut off as another darting flash of movement could be seen through the window. And then the door to the shop began to creak slowly open.
All four of them froze as something appeared in the doorway in front of them. It was a face, one with glittering dark eyes. Framed by long, wild black hair.
Emma’s breath stopped.
It was her face, but not a version she’d ever seen before—one that looked as if she’d gone completely wild.
Almost immediately, the low thump-thump-thump started up. It brought her straight back to the court hearings, and the look on the prince’s face that day. It was Edgar’s heart. She darted a panicked look at her cousin. He was standing closest to her, still staring wide-eyed at the monstrous creature in the doorway.
In spite of the fear, Emma ground her teeth and slammed the door on the Noise, jamming it back behind her defenses.
The pulse faded, and she had a moment of relief before the creature in the doorway suddenly lurched forward. It moved impossibly fast, darting through the door and then skittering to a halt a few feet away. It was very tall, much taller than any of them, and seemed to be put together out of a jumble of leftover parts, a series of crooked limbs.
A person who was not quite a person. Just like this London was not quite London.
As they watched, the creature’s face began to slowly change, skin stretching over its bones, rippling and shifting, its features morphing. Emma stumbled back, nausea washing over her. She felt as though an ice-cold fist had plunged into her chest and seized her heart.
The creature’s face was now freckled and pale and still horrifyingly familiar. Behind Emma, Maddie gave a strangled cry.
The thing that now wore Maddie’s face crept closer. One step. Two. Emma felt Eliza grab her arm tightly. It felt as if her heart had stopped. She was frozen to the spot.
“Why does it look like that?” Maddie’s voice was a whisper at first, but it climbed to a high screech of terror. “Stop that!”
“I think we should run.” Edgar was tugging Maddie back. “Come on, run!”
Abruptly, the monster with Maddie’s face launched itself forward. It ran straight at them, mouth dropping open in a screeching howl.
Emma whirled around and snatched at Eliza’s hand. Edgar was already yanking Maddie around, pushing her out of harm’s way, and the four of them sprinted for the nearest building. Fear sent a rush of hot adrenaline coursing into Emma’s chest. As she sprinted forward, she could feel the Noise starting up again; the chaotic sound of four heartbeats echoed through her h
ead.
She had time for one fleeting observation—she’d never heard more than one before—and then sheer terror took over.
The cobblestones were uneven beneath their feet as they dashed onwards. Worse still, she could hear a low, increasingly familiar rumble. Emma shrieked, seizing Maddie’s hand on one side and keeping tight hold of Eliza’s on the other.
Edgar almost fell before Maddie grabbed a fistful of his shirt, hauling him up and pulling him after her. This caused them to slow for a few seconds, but thankfully, a nearby sideroad shifted, and the shaking made the monster stagger and nearly lose its balance as well.
“Run!” Emma shouted, and then screamed in wordless frustration when the building they were making straight for—a squat, brown-tiled saloon with old-fashioned swinging doors—vanished without warning.
Before they could change direction, another low rumble sounded and a new building arrived—a tall white mansion with green shutters and thatched eves. The faded lettering on the sign in front said Ashberg Hotel.
It would have to do.
Emma put on a burst of speed, heading for the stairs leading up to the wraparound porch.
As they sprinted across the street, Emma and Eliza were in the lead, with Maddie and Edgar just behind. Flames had burst from Eliza’s palms and were licking fiercely at her arms now, forcing Emma to let go.
The creaky staircase was very long and narrow, and they were forced to run up in a single file. The rotting wood nearly sent Eliza through the top step, but Emma managed to snag her arm, pulling her back before she fell and then shoving her forward onto the porch before she herself caught fire.
Thundering footsteps sounded just behind them, and Emma glanced back, horrified to see the creature reaching one spindly arm out for Edgar.
“Look out!”
Her shriek came a second too late. The creature managed to snatch the back of Edgar’s silk jacket, and he was pulled up short. He screamed as his feet slid on the stairs, and then, to her astonishment, he twisted around and issued an order—in the loudest, most imperious voice she’d ever heard: “I command you to let me go immediately.”
This seemed to startle the monster into stillness, at least for a second, but it was enough to give Edgar time to shrug out of his jacket and vault the rest of the way up the steps. The howl of rage that followed only propelled them on faster, and they bolted across the narrow porch toward the hotel doors, skidding to a halt in front of them. There was a brass lion’s head door-knocker on the front, and heavy, iron bands crossing the door. Emma tried to turn the knob on the left side. It wouldn’t budge, and her stomach sank.
Angry groaning noises came from behind them. The creature was slashing at the silk jacket with jagged claws that appeared to be growing directly from its long white fingers. The silk coat fell away in strips.
All four of them backed up into the far corner of the porch as the creature’s head snapped up, and it stared at them, eyes glittering. It dropped the coat and began to crawl up the steps.
The most horrifying thing about the monster’s slow, jerky process was that its face changed every few seconds. First it was Maddie. Then the flesh of its face rippled and it was Edgar, and then Eliza. Another ripple and Emma was staring straight into her own face all over again. No matter whose face it wore, it kept darting wide-eyed glances at Eliza.
It was afraid of her fire, Emma realized. But not afraid enough to stop coming for them. Not quite.
“Through here,” Maddie screeched. “This one’s open!” She yanked on the other door, and it opened with a rusty shriek.
They shot through the entrance, first Emma and Eliza and then Edgar. Maddie came last, slamming the door shut behind her with an echoing crash. Then they were pelting down a long, dim hallway full of doors marked with faded numbers, their footsteps muffled by thick carpet that sent up plumes of dust as they went. They streaked past door after door. Emma didn’t know where the hallway led, and she didn’t particularly care, as long as the answer was away.
They had made it about halfway down the hall when a crash from behind them echoed off the walls. Emma put on a burst of speed, knowing the creature must have smashed its way through the front doors.
The hallway ended in a narrow, carpeted staircase, and she took the stairs two at a time, hearing the others thundering up behind her. A second corridor stretched out before them, wider than the last, with brass lamps along the walls. The wallpaper had peeled and was lying on the floor in drifts. Emma kicked it out of the way as they went.
“We should go into one of these rooms,” Eliza suggested. “Lock ourselves in.”
She paused in front of the nearest door—Number Nine, according to the stained golden plaque. Thankfully, it was unlocked.
As the others darted inside Emma hung back, glancing down the hallway. It was dim and silent; there was no sound of footsteps in the distance, or on the staircase. She followed the others into the room and closed the door as quietly as she could behind her. The lock was rusted open, and she couldn’t budge it, so at last she turned away, pressing her back to the door. They’d have to hope the creature wouldn’t be able to find them here.
It was quiet inside the hotel room, and dark, save for the sunlight that leaked in past the tangle of blinds on the window and the orange glow of Eliza’s fire. In the silence, Emma realized she could still hear multiple heartbeats, including her own, and she turned away from the others, struggling to push the Noise back behind the door so she could think straight.
The hotel room was surprisingly spacious. The wallpaper, which had once been a pink-and-white floral pattern, was now water-damaged and stained green, and ivy had climbed up into the corners and cracks. The floorboards were carpeted with moss, and there were vibrant green ferns growing just under the window.
In the center of the room was a double bed, with a thick layer of moss growing over the mattress like a strange bedspread. Over the headboard hung a faded painting of a ship on the ocean. Everything was covered in a layer of dust, and sheets of cobwebs hung from the light fixtures and bedposts.
It was a strange sight, this once-luxurious hotel room being slowly devoured by nature.
On the other side of the room stood a dresser. The large, oval mirror attached to it reflected their pale, shocked faces back at them. Edgar kept glancing over his shoulder at the door, and Maddie stared around the room. Eliza’s arms were still completely encased in fire, and she glared down at her hands, brow creased.
There was a flutter of black in the mirror, a reflection of the window. When Emma whirled around, heart in her throat, it was to see a large black raven peering in at them through a crack in the blinds. She could hear the muffled scratching of its talons on the sill.
Instinctively, her gaze drifted to Edgar, who had turned to look as well. His face was very white, his eyes wide as he stared out the window.
Something clicked then, and Emma was suddenly sure it wasn’t as simple as her cousin being afraid of birds. He’d refused to tell them what his power was, and she was beginning to suspect that birds were somehow a part of it.
But now was hardly the time to discuss it.
Emma was about to whisper to them all to keep still and quiet, that they simply needed to wait out the monster, when she became aware of the muffled thumping of a heartbeat.
This one was slower than Edgar’s had been, steadier, and Emma stared over at the others. She hadn’t heard it before, had she?
Which meant it wasn’t any of them.
She froze, her own pulse fluttering in her throat, and began to back up slowly toward the corner of the room. The others took note and followed her lead.
The corner held only a narrow dresser and a cracked porcelain wash basin in which some enterprising bird had constructed a nest. Emma edged in beside it, pressing herself flat against the wall.
The heartbeat had ceased. There was not
hing but silence. That was almost worse though. Was it the monster just outside the door, trying to figure out how to get in?
They were all staring at the door when it happened—when the knob slowly, ever so slowly, began to turn. Emma sucked in a breath, Maddie snatched at her sleeve, and Edgar was inching toward the window, as if he were thinking of flinging himself out. Only Eliza stayed where she was as the door swung inward, the flames on her arms jumping higher.
The figure in the doorway didn’t move at first, although it was immediately obvious that this wasn’t the crooked creature who had been chasing them through the streets. The man’s hat was missing, and his hair stood up every which way, but Emma recognized him instantly.
The words tumbled out before she could stop them: “Witch hunter!”
Tobias McCraw stared at her, blue eyes wide and a little wild. “Witch,” he said, and before she could move he lunged forward. Emma shrieked as he seized her arms, yanking her close against his chest. His arm slid around her shoulders, trapping her.
Eliza shouted, starting toward them. The flames on her arms flared higher as she growled out through clenched teeth, “You.”
Emma couldn’t see the witch hunter, but she could feel him go still against her back, and his arm tightened around her ever so slightly. It wasn’t painful, but she definitely couldn’t move.
So it had been his heart she’d heard outside the door, not the monster’s.
“You stay back,” he said. “I recognize you.”
Surprisingly, it was Edgar who stepped forward now, leveling a stern gaze at the witch hunter. “You let her go. It’s me you want.”
The witch hunter snorted. “Hardly. What I want is for you to lead me to Witch City. Then nobody gets hurt.”
Emma froze in his grip, startled. She would have thought he’d take them straight back to the queen. “We…we don’t know the way.”
“That’s where we’re trying to go, idiot,” Eliza snarled. “Would we be hiding in some hotel if we knew how to get there?”