Winter's Light (34 page)

Chapter 58

‘Blake!’ Winter gasped, stumbling forward. Any moment now she expected the figure to fly apart like burning paper, prove itself to be an illusion. She crouched on the stones, almost too scared to touch him in case her hands discovered what her mind screamed to be true – this tortured form was Blake.

Tenderly, Winter took hold of one bony shoulder and rolled the prisoner onto his back. The face beneath the matted, dirty hair was emaciated; the cheekbones disturbingly pronounced; the eyes seemed to have receded back into the skull, they were closed, hidden in the dark cavities; the skin had a pale, greyish quality and was almost translucent in places. Though starved of most of its aesthetic beauty, Winter recognised the face – would have recognised it anywhere, and her tentative hope blossomed into a joy, pure and bright.

He was alive!

It was impossible, improbable, but her Blake was here – had been for God knows how long. Locked away in this tower like a character in a grim fairytale.

Like a blind person, Winter traced the contours of his features, pushing back the limp strands of hair, all the time murmuring, ‘I found you . . . I found you . . .’

He was here lying in her arms, just as she’d lain in his in the clearing outside Pilgrim’s Lament. That was all that mattered in this golden moment.

But Blake was so cold to touch, so still . . .

Winter’s rapturous expression wavered; why wouldn’t he wake up? She pressed her hand to his chest, desperately feeling for a heartbeat. Relief tempered her growing panic as she detected a faint rhythmic pulse. He was alive . . . just.

‘Blake?’ She touched the iron collar around his neck. Staring closer, Winter saw the blackened flesh around the collar and felt her stomach clench with anger. Magdalene! It had been the old woman all along. Her punishment could wait though. Running her fingers along the circumference of the binding, Winter closed her eyes, imagining it opening beneath her touch. There was no hesitancy in this action; just a grim focus and determination. If she could open locked doors, she could unlock manacles.

There was a
click
and the collar fell away. Winter threw it into the shadows of the cell. Still, Blake remained unconscious.

‘Wake up, my love . . . please, wake up,’ Winter whispered and bent to give him a kiss. As her lips brushed his, she felt a tremor roll through his body. His eyes slowly opened and gazed weakly into hers.

Thank you
, Winter offered up her gratitude to God, to the cosmos, to anyone who would listen. She’d been granted a second chance. They both had. Looking into his eyes, Winter had a sensation of coming home, of unrelenting optimism in the face of horror and darkness. And then something changed . . . Blake’s glittering eyes widened slightly, sharpened. It wasn’t recognition or love she saw reflected in those familiar emerald depths – but hunger! Inhuman and absolute.

Before she had a second to react, Blake lunged upwards, flipping her roughly onto her back. Crouched over her like an animal, he forcefully pressed his mouth to hers and began to drink.

What are you doing?
Winter thought, too shocked to feel anything but dumb incomprehension.
Why are you hurting me?
Her vision swam and then darkened.

‘GET OFF HER!’ came the frightened yell, snapping Winter back into consciousness. There was a flash of yellow light, followed by the sound of breaking glass. Blake rolled off her into the cell, trailing smoke. His arm was on fire. Their eyes met briefly before the darkness swallowed him. Already his features looked stronger, more beautiful, flushed as they were with life. Her life.

Though still dazed, Winter was alert enough to read the regret in those eyes, the shame, and then he was gone, disappearing in a flash of spectral light.

She heard footsteps and then Jasmine’s worried face was hovering over hers. ‘Win?’

She tried to answer but there was no breath in her body.
Why had he left?

‘Win!’ Jasmine repeated, the concern in her voice holding Winter’s wheeling focus. She concentrated on breathing in and out. Smoky air filled her lungs, making her cough. Jasmine helped her sit up, patting her gently on the back to clear her airways.

The smell of petrol pricked her nostrils and Winter saw the broken lamp on the stones. Jasmine must have thrown it at Blake from the doorway. There was a pool of kerosene spreading around it like blood. Winter’s spinning thoughts began to slow, and with it the crushing heartache of the situation became clearer.

‘Are you okay? Win? Please say something.’

‘Blake,’ Winter croaked, her throat contracting with emotion. ‘It was Blake.’

Jasmine frowned. ‘What do you mean it was Blake?’ Her eyes widened with comprehension. ‘You mean that thing attacking you?’

Winter could only nod miserably. Already she was trying to rationalise his attack. Clearly the hunger had been too much for Blake to control. She’d seen how gaunt he was, how emaciated. It must have been instinctual, a reaction to the appearance of sustenance after being starved halfway to death.

‘I’m sorry, Win,’ Jasmine said, sympathetic but anxious to leave. ‘I don’t know what to say. But we have to go. Like – now! There are bodies outside. The keep’s on fire. We need to get out of this place.’

Winter didn’t want to move, the very idea of it made her exhausted. But as confused and upset as she was, her friend was right. The castle wasn’t safe. Blake was alive, that was the important thing. She had to have faith that he would return to her.

Chapter 59

Jasmine quickly filled Winter in on the encounter with Radermire as they wound their way down the tower staircase.

‘He came out of the darkness, after the lights went out. I guess he’d heard the bells ringing and came to find out what was happening. I was in the chapel standing over that device. After I poured the water on it, the rings started spinning really fast and it made this horrible sound and sort of exploded. The weird crystal ball thingy fell on the floor and cracked, leaking green light everywhere. Radermire looked like a ghost, flying out at me, calling me names, and I screamed and threw the vase. It hit him in the head and . . . he – he went down.’ Her voice cracked with guilt. ‘I didn’t check to see if he was still breathing. I just ran. It was self-defence though, Win. Right?’

‘Of course it was. You’re lucky to be alive,’ Winter said, struggling to keep her thoughts from wandering back to Blake. If they were to get out of here she needed to focus. The distant sounds of men yelling, guns firing and small explosions swept through the night. Castle Vled was a battle zone.

They skittered to the bottom of the staircase and ran into the courtyard. Cold rain stung Winter’s face, streaming into her eyes, making it difficult to see. The southern tower was in flames, as was a small section of the keep. Fire glowed behind the glass, transforming its windows into hellish eyes staring down at them from the stormy darkness.

‘Where do we go from here?’ Jasmine asked, treacherously close to becoming hysterical again. Winter was still too numb to acknowledge her fear, but sensed it seething just beyond the temporary cocoon of shock. Any moment now it would steal inside and she’d be just as lost and frightened as Jasmine.

Lightning forked overhead illuminating the rain-swept area in more detail, and Winter saw a path leading off to the right into the garden. It wasn’t the most direct route to the castle’s entrance but it would hopefully take them away from the fighting.

‘This way,’ she said, pulling Jasmine. Running along the slippery cobblestones, they followed the path and found themselves in the garden, surrounded by dripping greenery. Winter realised she’d accidentally led them into a dead end. The gravel path didn’t continue through the garden. It circled around the fountain before turning in on itself.

‘I was wrong. We have to —’ she was cut off by an ear-ringing thunderclap that came not from the sky but from behind them.

‘Oh no,’ Jasmine moaned next to her. Neither girl moved, both too afraid to turn around. Feeling a bitter coldness wrap around her that had nothing to do with the pelting rain, Winter forced herself to face whatever was standing there. Jasmine, her eyes squeezed shut, reluctantly did the same.

A Demori was blocking the path. Another female, dressed in purple and black leather. Her hair was shaved, rain droplets glistening on the grey stubble of her crown. Cocking her head to one side, she smiled wolfishly at them.

‘Hello, my lovelies,’ she said in a deceptively silky voice.

‘What do we do? What do we do? What do we do?’ Jasmine muttered, voice rising in a hysterical pitch, skipping like a broken record.

‘Be quiet!’ Winter snapped, more forcefully than she’d intended. Jasmine’s mouth slammed shut, but she continued to whimper softly.

They began to back away from the grinning Demori who remained still, watching them. Taking wicked delight in their fear.

The edge of the fountain almost at their backs, there was another thunderclap and the grove was splashed with spectral light. Winter whirled around and saw a second Demori circling slowly around the fountain towards them. This one’s face was adorned with rings and studs which jangled as he moved.

Winter could hear Jasmine starting to hyperventilate beside her.

‘It’s okay, Jas,’ Winter said softly, reaching blindly for Jasmine’s hand without taking her eyes off the sneering, pierced Demori. Jasmine’s cold fingers closed around hers. Winter glanced across at her friend and forced a reassuring smile. There was nothing behind the smile though. It was hollow; a clown’s smile. They both knew they were as good as dead.

More thunderclaps and emerald lightning bursts, a dozen or so, rattled the grove and soon the two girls were surrounded by Demori. Some grinned, some smirked, some wore more neutral expressions; all stared at Winter with shining emerald eyes. Eyes naked in their hunger. They could see her light and wanted it for themselves.

However, none broke the circle to come and claim their prize, none ventured forward. They seemed content just to prevent the girls from escaping. A minute ticked by and still they didn’t move. Unable to weather the suspense any longer, Winter demanded, ‘What are you waiting for?!’

If she was to be murdered, then let it happen quickly.

‘Me,’ the familiar voice came quietly and calmly from beyond the circle. ‘My friends are waiting for me.’

Winter gasped as the Demori parted and a figure strode into view.

It was Benedict.