Fairydale a dark gothic.., p.32
Fairydale: A Dark Gothic Fantasy Romance, page 32
She shakes her head sadly.
"Everyone loved her in Fairydale. It's unfortunate that she didn't think she could share her burden with us."
Realizing I'm not likely to get more out of her, I decide to change the subject, inquiring about the monster I'd seen instead.
"Is it this?" her brows furrow with concentration as she brings to life another illustration. This time it's of a creature that looks just like the monster who'd attacked me.
"Yes," I nod. "He had huge claws and he stabbed me and..."
"Did he get your blood?" she all but shrieks.
I blink in confusion, my mouth opening and closing as I try to find my voice.
"Forgive me, but it's very important to know if he took your blood or not."
"He tried to, but he was killed before he could do it."
She releases a deep sigh.
"Good. Good," she nods to herself. "You cannot let any such creature take a drop of blood from you, Darcy. Listen to me. It's imperative that they don't get their hands on your blood."
"Why?"
"This monster. It's a Kiaka, a mindless lowly demon that does the bidding of its master. Since Amon cannot act for himself, he must have sent it after you. You see, your blood is the only thing that can give him strength."
I regard her carefully. It had been Amon himself who'd killed the monster. Why would he do it if he'd sent it in the first place?
Unless...
My pulse speeds up, my palms getting clammy as it dawns on me he's been playing with me from the beginning.
He killed the Kiaka purposefully after he'd gotten my blood. He must have done it to get me to trust him. Just as he must have been behind every little odd thing happening around me.
Remembering all the times I thought I was losing my mind, I can't help but wonder if he'd been behind that.
Could it be that he'd been trying to undermine my relationship with Caleb, too?
"Just how strong is Amon?" I utter on a whisper.
"I don't have an answer for you, child. When the elders sealed him, they gave their lives to that spell. It was a sacrifice they were willing to make, but no one realized he would be that powerful. Though he is trapped—for now—his influence lingers."
"Do you think..." I wet my lips. "Do you think he could influence my mind?"
Dear God, but what if those visions of the past I'm seeing are sent by Amon? What if he's trying to paint our relationship in a positive light so he can get me on his side?
She nods grimly.
My eyes widen just as my mind blanks on me.
Turning towards the beautiful roses, I stare into empty space as I realize I've reached my lowest point—where I cannot even know if my thoughts are my own, never mind my memories of the past or if my eyes deceive me.
"I can help with that," she suddenly offers.
Closing her eyes, she does a small incantation, her palms lighting up in a blinding flash before a red string appears in her hand.
"Here," she murmurs as she wraps it around my wrist. "This should be enough for now since he's still weak. But if he gains strength... There's no telling what he will be capable of," she takes a deep breath. "You must ensure he never gets even one drop of your blood. If he does... I fear for the fate of this town."
I give her a tight smile, promising I will be careful.
All the while, though, I cannot reconcile what Rhiannon is telling me with what I know of Amon. Just like in my vision before, when Fiona had told me how evil he was, there's a part of me that cannot believe it—that simply cannot fathom an existence without him.
Even then. I knew he was a demon. I knew he was reviled. I knew he was a murderer.
And yet, I still loved him.
But can I trust myself?
Can I truly trust that what I'm feeling is real and not a result of his interference? He might not have the power to become corporeal and come after me himself, but as Rhiannon admitted, he could affect my perception of what's happening around me.
Despite knowing all that, I'm still torn...
As we finish the tea, she tells me she must retire for the day.
"You must be wondering why I've been so absent," she stops at the door of the conservatory on her way out. "I have been performing a containment ritual every day to ensure that Amon's influence does not reach this house. I will continue to do so until the moment comes that we'll finally be able to rid ourselves of him."
"What will happen to me for the final spell? You said I'm needed to enhance it. But will I...die?" I ask tentatively.
She purses her lips, her cheeks tightening in a sad smile.
"Your abilities will save you from such a fate, Darcy," she vaguely replies.
But she never gives me a straight answer.
We walk together back to the house, parting ways as we reach the first floor.
"Please consider what I told you, Darcy."
She makes to continue to the stairs when I ask one last question.
"If I don't agree. Will you do the spell anyway?"
She takes a moment to reply, nodding grimly.
"It must be done. Whether we live or die, it is our duty to cleanse the stench of evil from this town once and for all."
And with that she's gone.
I hurry to my room, all the while mulling over everything I've learned.
To say I'm shocked that she'd been so frank with me is an understatement.
From the beginning the Hales have been somehow secretive as to what goes on in Fairydale and Katrina had been quite dismissive of the rumors about the family.
Yet Rhiannon had confirmed everything.
The Hales are part of the six families.
And they think I can somehow help them defeat an archdemon that's been terrorizing Fairydale for centuries.
It would all be perfectly fine if not for the small fact that the archdemon in question is Amon.
My beloved. And, apparently, my killer.
There are too many contradictions, and though I can feel that Rhiannon does not have any ill intentions with me, I am still wary of trusting her.
Just how much is true and how much is fake?
How is it that I come to Fairydale to receive an inheritance from a not so dead man but instead find myself in the middle of a conflict between witches and demons?
But most importantly, how do I manage to stay alive?
Chapter Sixteen
Two days later, Caleb is still not back.
Since my talk with Rhiannon, I've been all by myself, either in my room or in the library, reading.
I've seen Katrina in passing, but she commutes to school outside of Fairydale every day so she leaves in the morning and comes back late in the afternoon.
Boredom soon pokes its head to the surface, especially as my frustration mounts at the half-truths and the incomplete information I have.
After Rhiannon had told me about Amon and the fact that the six families need me to kill him off for good, I've found myself going down the rabbit hole of overthinking everything.
I'd jotted down all I know in my notebook as I tried to make sense of it.
And though Rhiannon had revealed to me more than I would have thought she would, there are still glaring discrepancies.
There is the past as I know it—as I've seen it through my eyes. Then there's the version that has made it to the history books.
And while I am aware that Amon's influence could interfere with my perception of the past, I can't help but feel that my memories are real—that everything I'd seen of the past was what Elizabeth had lived through.
Otherwise, why reveal everything Fiona had told me? Why would Amon show himself to me as the blood-thirsty demon that he is instead of the sweet lover he'd been up until that point?
Yet that's not the only doubt I have regarding what I'd learned. Rhiannon had all but told me it's my fate to help kill Amon. She hadn't asked for my help, she hadn't even asked if I want to do this though it might prove fatal to me. She'd simply stated that I would do it—because it had been foretold.
How is that fair to me? What about what I want?
I sigh, blowing my hair from my eyes as I tap my pen against the wooden table. Hours of thinking, and all I have to show for it is a mounting headache and conflicting information.
Flipping the pages of the notebook, I stop at my list of questions as I circle the most important of them all—and one Rhiannon had tried her best to circumvent.
Who is my mother?
And why would she have thought she was protecting me by leaving Fairydale with me?
By my calculations, she should be a member of the six families, but which?
Wouldn't Rhiannon have told me already if she was a Hale?
The more I ruminate about that question, the more I realize there is only one person who can give me an answer. The only one who'd straightforwardly told me he knew my mother and could tell me more about her.
Archibald Nicholson.
Deciding I need to take matters into my own hands, I put on a sundress and a light blazer since the weather has turned chilly. Fiddling with the red bracelet Rhiannon had placed upon me, I have to wonder if this will help me in any way—or if it isn't a veiled threat.
Maybe I've become a little paranoid in my time in Fairydale, but everyone has their own agenda. Aside from Rhiannon's worry that some creature might get its hands on my blood and jeopardize her plans, I doubt she cares much about what happens to me.
The only one who's been there for me from the beginning has been Caleb.
He's the only person who's gone far and beyond to help me and seems to have my well-being at heart. Though I've had moments in the past where I've doubted him—due to my own mental failings—I now realize that he's only ever been frank with me. Including the fact that I shouldn't blindly trust his family.
A sudden wave of melancholy hits me when I think of him, and I wonder how long his business will keep him away. In such a short time he's become my rock. It's a little unsettling to realize that not only have I come to depend on his company, but crave it like an addict.
"You'd better come home soon, Caleb," I mutter under my breath as I comb my hair, plaiting it in a simple braid. Since he's not here, I will have to walk to town, where I will need to inquire about Mr. Nicholson's address.
Maybe it's a little rude of me to come thusly unannounced, but he had previously invited me to dinner, so I hope he won't be too bothered.
Once I'm ready, I head out, carefully making my way towards the town.
A light breeze brushes my skin as the sun hides behind the clouds.
Gazing at the sky, I hope it's not going to rain any time soon. At least not while I'm so far away from town.
Increasing my pace, I can't help but notice that the clouds are becoming darker and darker, a loud sound echoing in the sky.
Pulling my blazer tighter around my body, I try to maintain my body heat as the atmosphere changes, the temperature suddenly dropping.
"Nothing is happening, nothing is happening," I chant to myself as I pass by the Old Church and what's left of 12 Astor Place.
Until now I'd only seen it in passing from the car, but as I take in the charred wood and the barely standing structure, I cannot possibly imagine how I would have made my way out onto the lawn where Caleb had found me.
Goodness, but that was such a narrow encounter with death.
The moment that thought arises, though, I have to wonder if I can actually die. Since my injuries heal on their own, does that mean that I am invincible? Will I even grow old since my cells will just heal themselves?
Once more, I am overwhelmed with questions. I hadn't taken the time to consider the implications of my newly found abilities before, but now that the seed has been planted, I can see the countless possibilities.
Lost in my thoughts, I startle as a bolt of lightning whips across the sky, branching out in smaller lines as it takes over the entire visible horizon.
A shiver goes down my back at the sudden change in weather, especially since it had been perfectly fine when I left the house.
Even more suspicious is the fact that these sudden changes in weather have happened before—like when I'd first arrived in Fairydale.
Could it be that Amon can control the sky?
My brows pinch together in worry as the wind picks up, blowing right in my direction.
Right at that moment, lightning strikes in front of me, the bolt hitting the road and causing the ground to quake and shatter at the point of impact.
Startled, a panicked cry escapes me as I jump back. At the same time, more loud noises erupt in the sky and all around me.
My mind becomes a huge void as fear overtakes me.
Out of nowhere, a scratchy sound resounds, before something attacks me, tackling me to the ground.
I'm so stricken with fear that I fail to realize the thing is not attacking me—rather licking me.
"Mr. Meow?" my voice wobbles as I struggle to gain control over my shaking body.
I take a deep breath, and when even that doesn't help, I continue to breathe in and out while Mr. Meow languidly licks my cheek before he nuzzles his furry face against mine.
"It's just you, Mr. Meow," I finally sigh in relief when I manage to clear the fog of fear.
The storm is still brewing, and gathering myself off the ground, I cradle Mr. Meow to my chest as I walk faster and faster—barely short of a run—towards town.
Mr. Vaughan had said Astor Place was fifteen minutes away from town. Despite the rumbling thunder and the flashy lightning, I manage to get there in half the time.
I barely feel my legs when I make it to the town center. My lungs constrict in my chest, my breathing intensifying.
"We're here," I whisper to the cat in my arms.
Despite his absence, I'm happy to have come across him again. At least now I'll have someone else to keep me company while Caleb is away.
I'll have to ask first if I'm allowed to house a pet in the manor, though if they won't allow me, I'll hide Mr. Meow somehow.
Oddly enough, the moment I enter one of the shops in the town square, the clouds suddenly dissipate as if there had been no storm.
Biting my lip in consternation, I can only hope that whatever was after me is gone for good.
"Excuse me," I put on a polite smile as I enter the small shop. "I was wondering if you could tell me where Mr. Nicholson's residence is?"
The clerk looks up, surprised to see me.
Although Mr. Nicholson had assured me he'd put in a good word for me, I'm still worried that the townsfolk blame me for everything that happened.
"Oh, you're Miss Darcy, aren't you?" the older woman bursts out, her face breaking into a genuine smile.
I nod tentatively.
"It's so good to finally meet you. Archibald has told us all about you," she starts, getting up from her seat and coming towards me. "Anyone who comes as highly recommended as you is welcome here."
"Thank you," I murmur.
Unusually chatty and helpful, the woman takes out a map of Fairydale, showing me the exact route to Mr. Nicholson's house.
Before I leave, I find out just how well-respected the man is in the entire town.
"He's helped all of us at some point. Everything you see built in this town, Mr. Nicholson and his family did it," the clerk recounts, sharing that most small businesses have a personal relationship with Mr. Nicholson and his family.
"You'll be in good hands with him," she says as I head out, thanking her for everything.
Mr. Meow is getting increasingly more agitated.
"Don't worry. I'll ask Mr. Nicholson if he has something for you to eat. It can't have been easy for you these days," I coo lightly. "I'm sorry I didn't look for you more."
His paw is on my cheek, his claws sheathed as he gently strokes my skin.
I give him an indulgent smile, patting him on the white spot on his head.
Guiding myself with the map the clerk had given me, I follow a serpentine road before I reach an imposing house.
It's not as big as the Hale manor, but it speaks of the same type of grandiosity with its neoclassical façade and the entrance that simulates the Roman Pantheon.
I swallow hard as a wave of nervousness hits me. Not only because my surroundings are a little...gloomy but also because I'm coming here unannounced.
Before I can chicken out, I push my chin up, straightening my spine and marching forward. With Mr. Meow in one arm, I use the other to knock on the thick bronze door rapper.
Stepping back, I simply wait.
It's not long before someone opens the door.
It's a woman in her fifties, or sixties, and upon taking a good look at me, a bright smile stretches across her face.
"You must be Miss Darcy," she exclaims, clapping her hands together.
How is it that everyone already knows who I am in this town?
"Ah, yes," I nod awkwardly.
"Mr. Nicholson has told me all about you. He knew you'd be calling on us at some point. Do come in," she says warmly, motioning me inside.
"Let me grab your jacket, and if you'll follow me into the drawing room, I'll inform Mr. Nicholson of your arrival at once," she starts, taking my blazer and putting it on a hanger. "I do hope you're planning to stay for lunch. I'm making Mr. Nicholson's favorite stew..." she drones on, her chatty disposition making me feel better about this impromptu visit.
Leading me to the drawing room, she tells me to wait a moment as she calls on Mr. Nicholson.
Nodding, I find my attention going back to Mr. Meow, who is getting more agitated by the second, baring his teeth for no reason at one of Mr. Nicholson's portraits.
"Easy." I pull him close to my body. "We don't want to damage anything of worth around here. Until I get my inheritance I have absolutely no money," I whisper in his ear.
Once more, it dawns on me how silly I'm being. It's not as if he could understand what I'm saying. Yet his body-language tells me he does. That he's an intelligent animal and he enjoys it when I address him directly.
"Meow," he screams at me, jumping out of my arms.
Well, most times, anyway.
Just as I'm about to get up and run after him, the sound of heavy steps stops me in my tracks.
