The Hall of Shadows

by M. L. Bullock

  Paden held me, and I breathed him in. He smelled like sunshine and horses and cedar. I loved to smell him. Rain began to patter on the roof of the barn. “Let me make love to you, my wife. Right here, in our barn. What’s to stop us, Joanna?”

  “Here? Now?” I smiled with some embarrassment. If I had been well, I would have agreed to his request without worry. In fact, it might have been my idea. I couldn’t be so impulsive now, not since I’d been struck with Mother’s malady. But he was right, he was my husband and this was our barn.

  “Upstairs, dearest. On second thought, why don’t you let me lead the way?” he whispered in my ear. How long had it been since we’d made love? I giggled as I climbed up the ladder to enter whatever bower Paden had arranged for us. How I loved this man! Surely after our lovemaking, he would not deny my deepest wish, to never be parted from him again.

  Surely not. There was only one way to find out. I followed him up the narrow wooden ladder.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “No!” I said as I opened my eyes. Heartbreak wasted no time weighing down my soul. The loss of him hurt me so deeply. I buried my face in my pillow and wept for all my worth. When I couldn’t cry anymore, I decided to drag myself out of my twisted sheets and stumble to the bathroom. That’s when sickness rose up in me; it was similar to the mild sickness I experienced whenever I flew. Even the shortest flight made me ill, especially if I skipped the Dramamine.

  I clutched the doorframe; the wood felt cool beneath my fingers. I clutched my stomach with my other hand. I wobbled on my feet for a few seconds and then hurried to brush my teeth and wash my face. I looked at myself in the mirror and was jolted by the truth as if by an electric shock. This wasn’t a stomach bug. This was morning sickness. I was…Paden and I… I had no idea how this was possible, but there was no doubt—I was pregnant with Paden Kincaid’s baby. I should have been panicked, but I only felt a mixture of love, happiness and crushing heartache.

  Paden, I wish you knew. I wish you could know.

  “Paden,” I sobbed again as I clutched the sink with my head bowed. My stomach was finally calming, but my heart would never be right again. Never. I was elated to be having a child with the man I loved, but that overwhelming heartache washed over me because I knew what was coming. I focused on my breathing.

  Pull yourself together. You don’t want to make the baby sick. I looked at myself in the mirror again. I looked horrible. My hair needed washing; it was sweaty and stringy. My eyes had dark circles beneath them, and they were red from crying. No, I didn’t look my best at all. What was Alex going to say when I saw him later? How was I going to tell him about any of this?

  How could I tell him that I didn’t want to be here? I wanted to be with Paden. Whether I was Megan or Joanna, Paden was my destiny. I wanted it that way. I would rather have that little time with him. Paden would die soon. The ghost of Danny Petit would kill him, but he would save me.

  But what if I could save him? What if I could? I had to try, didn’t I? He was the father of my child now. That absolutely blew my mind but also strengthened my resolve. The problem was that when I went back, I became Joanna. She was so much stronger than I was, undoubtedly because she belonged there and I did not. But that would have to change. I would have to remember to assert my own presence and not be selfish. Not get lost in Paden’s arms and forget…not if I was going to save his life.

  But how?

  I considered all this as I showered and tended to my hair. Then I went back into my bedroom and opened the armoire. There was the Vivaldi. The beautiful dress was carefully folded in its box; I still hadn’t sent the antique to the restoration company. I’d been meaning to. I told myself I would, but not yet. I still held out hope that it would carry me back again, to that night. That first night when Father…

  But I never went back, never to the same moment. Every time I returned, it was to a different time. Sometimes it was before Paden’s death, sometimes before Dan’s, but never to the same point in time. Why?

  Maybe that’s how this all worked. Maybe I only had one chance to change any given moment? I couldn’t be sure, but I had to be ready. And I had to remember and not get lost in the moment. As much as I loved those tender moments with Paden, I couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t going to die in a horrible way. Taking in a deep breath, I silently pledged that that was exactly what I would do. Now that my stomach had stopped flipping around, I felt a little hungry. For the sake of my health, as well as the baby, I had to start eating regularly. And healthier too. No more cigarettes. No more anything that was bad for me. Yes, that’s what I should do. Go make friends with the new housekeeper and find something healthy to eat.

  But I had already opened the box. And I had the dress in my hands.

  Suddenly I felt very excited, excited about the possibility that I would see Paden. And when I did, I would tell him everything. About who I was…about our baby. He might not believe me at first, but I would make him believe and then we would leave Morgan’s Rock together. Forever. Before the horrible thing happened to him.

  Maybe that’s why Joanna Storm disappeared. What if Joanna was me and I managed to take him away? But no, that couldn’t be right. Oh, no. Now my head hurt.

  I put the box on the bed and clutched the beaded gown tightly. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to put the dress on at least for a few minutes. I’ll put it on and if nothing happens, that settles it. But if I can go back to just the right moment, I have to do it.

  I shed the towel and stepped into the dress. I slid the straps up over my shoulders and rubbed the fabric under my hands. I loved this dress. I walked around the room and wrung my hands. Nothing happened. I opened the door and walked out in the hallway, but there was nothing to see. I’d gone nowhere.

  I walked back in my room and closed the door. I went back to the bathroom and sipped some water from the glass on the counter. Well, I had to do something with my hair. Why not pull it up into a pretty French twist? It had been awhile since I’d done anything new with my hair. Maybe I’d go get a haircut before the party? Wouldn’t that surprise everyone? Joanna had done it. Everyone loved it after the shock of it wore off. Joanna loved it too.

  Yes, I loved it. It made me feel pretty.

  “Joanna?”

  I tucked in the last bobby pin and listened. I didn’t hear her again. But then again, I wouldn’t, would I?

  I am Joanna Storm. And it’s time to go. Time to go see Paden, maybe for one last time.

  I checked myself in the mirror one more time. For a moment, a brief moment, Megan Pressfield wasn’t looking back at me. Joanna Storm was. Her dark hair was perfectly curled in pin waves. The Vivaldi gown was the same, if a bit newer. I touched my stomach, and so did she. I had to do this. I had to go, and I may never come back.

  I didn’t look again. I flipped off the light and walked out into the hallway.

  But I wasn’t in the hallway now. I was in a dark room…and by the smell of it, I knew exactly where I was.

  I was in the hidden room.

  And I wasn’t alone.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A woman who looked remarkably like the late Vivian Kemal, except for the scar on the right side of her face, stood before me. She turned away from me, presumably to hide her face, but I wasn’t mistaken. There was no way I was mistaken. She had been waiting for me, I could see that. I was surprised to see her thin bare arms, scarred from both old and new cuts, proof of her bloody obsession.

  “Vivian?” I whispered as I clutched around me for something to steady me. My hands came to rest on a slab of smooth stone. Dizzy now, I struggled to stay in place. Vivian’s mutilated face twisted.

  “Joanna, or should I call you by another name?”

  I didn’t answer her question but asked one of my own, “Where is Paden?” She smiled her answer and shook her head. Then a dull yellow light from a torch filled the room. A strange hooded man put the torch in a metal sconce but did nothing else besides watch. Yes, he was watching me carefully.r />
  “Paden?” I called, but he wasn’t here. I was by myself with Vivian and the hooded man. What do I do now? What do I do? I could see no way out of this room. The door was shut, and there was no way I would be able to outrun these two. Not the way I was feeling. I struggled to remember who I was—who I really was.

  I am Megan Pressfield. I am an author. I have friends. Alex, Loretta…my name is Megan Pressfield.

  But the struggle I felt, the inner struggle, was as real as this cold stone. And with the knowledge that Joanna was with me, that she was me, I became more aware of her. She grew stronger with that awareness, and so did her seizure disorder. Now my hands tingled and my jaw clenched, but I refused to budge. My mind was so cloudy. No! I can’t lose focus!

  Why was I here again? I couldn’t remember, and I had to remember. All I could do was stare—stare at Vivian. And I did that for quite some time, or maybe it just felt like quite some time. I was instantly tired. So tired. Was this some kind of magic? Vivian’s magic?

  “Megan…” I said, my words slurring slightly. My confession did not move Vivian at all. Neither did the threat of a seizure. “My name is Meg…” My voice let out a hiss, and my tongue felt swollen and useless. Vivian’s dark eyes glittered with delight.

  That’s when I began to see the flashing lights. They were in front of me and very close now. My skin tingled, and I felt my leg begin to jerk. With great effort I placed my tingling hand over my knee, but it did little good.

  Oh no! This can’t be happening! Not now!

  Struggling to calm my breathing, I focused on taking in breaths and letting them out evenly, just as Dr. Collier suggested. No, Joanna. You never trusted him. Remember? And of course, the controlled breathing didn’t work at all. The shaking continued, and now the dank room smelled different. It smelled acrid; it had a rank smell, like old blood. Was I bleeding? Had I hurt myself? My hands were shaking now too, and I fell back on the stone as my whole body clattered and thrashed.

  “I am Megan Pressfield!” My mind screamed the truth, but the shaking did not subside. Joanna’s malady struck me and struck me hard. No, please. Not now. What was that? A mist? A fog? Could that be the dragon’s breath rolling into this very room? That would mean there was another opening, another way out. But even as my confused mind tried to piece things together, I saw a man emerge from the fog. I fell back on the stone slab again, and the fog twisted until I could clearly see what I dreaded.

  My Paden floated above me. He was talking, but I couldn’t hear him. My sorrow rose as I realized in my shuddering mind that I had missed the window, that the timeline was all wrong. I had come at the wrong time, too late to try and save the man I loved.

  Tears streamed down from my staring eyes as my body convulsed and did its own will.

  Paden…I’m so sorry.

  I gurgled, and my hand flew to my throat. Why did I feel like I was choking?

  Joanna, leave here. Leave here now! Try, Jo! Try!

  Yes, he would know me as Joanna, not Megan. Paden shimmered above me and reached for me; the lights behind him faded slightly. I smiled at him, or at least tried to. He had such a beautiful face, his hair blond and shaggy…yes, I loved this man. I tried to plead for help, and he was talking to me. But now I couldn’t see him fully. He faded before my eyes like he wasn’t real at all. Oh, I’m so confused, and my body has betrayed me. My entire body shook as if I were a fish out of water. I fixed my eyes on a place beyond this current reality, on the place where Paden dwelled. I could remember him. I would always remember him.

  Oh, I loved you so much. Sweat broke out all over my body, and my face and hair were drenched. I always loved you, Paden. I should have told you so when I had the chance. We should have left sooner.

  I opened my eyes again and found that I was in a man’s arms now. He wasn’t looking at me, though. His hood was covering most of his face. Mr. Lee? The man who works at the stables? Even though my eyes were half-open and I was unsure of my surroundings, I knew it was important to keep quiet. I had to remain as still as a mouse.

  Paden whispered in my ear. Still as a mouse, Jo. Don’t move!

  I gasped, and my body shuddered. Mr. Lee knew I was awake—he knew I was coming out of my seizure. But why should I worry? Mr. Lee wouldn’t harm Joanna…

  Suddenly, Mr. Lee’s hand was clamped over my mouth and nose so tightly that I thought perhaps he would smother me. My eyes flew wide open then. I couldn’t breathe, but I was too weak to fight him in any way.

  “Move her this way—higher on the stone, Lee. You’ve sent the rest of the staff away for the day, correct?”

  “Yes, I’ve done as you asked.” His voice sounded strained but excited. How was this possible? Had Mr. Lee known that Vivian was alive all this time?

  “I am very pleased, Lee. No one will discover us—it must be this way a little longer. Just a little longer. You hear that, Joanna? No one will hear you scream. There can be no delay. My guides insist we finish before nightfall.”

  Vivian!

  Yes, I could see her perfectly. She was not dead at all, not like poor Paden. Somehow, some way she had survived the horrible car crash that killed Dan, although I could see even in the dim torchlight of this dusty room that her beauty was permanently marred by a long scar down the side of her face. I wondered how that happened. Was it from the crash? How could Vivian have hidden from Joanna for so long?

  This must be a dream! A nightmare! Yes, this must be a nightmare!

  But then Vivian was leaning over me. A small silver knife was in her pale, bony hand. Behind her hovered Mr. Lee. He gave me a cold smile with no kindness in his eyes. Where had his kindness toward Joanna gone? Nothing was there, nothing but hatred.

  Vivian’s expression told me all I needed to know. She hated Joanna, and they both thought her a sickly creature. Unless I could figure out a way to save us, Joanna and I would both be dead. I imagined that Vivian would do the killing. Mr. Lee didn’t strike me as having the courage. Maybe I could convince him to help me. I tried to plead with him using my eyes, but he only sneered. Vivian was close now, and she had that knife.

  He stepped back as Vivian sliced at my wrist. The pain shot through me, but I could barely move, much less scream or fight. My body was too weak from the seizure, too weak to obey my addled brain. I tried again to force my arms and legs to move, but there was nothing to be done but wait. Vivian sliced deeper, and I moaned.

  “I know you feel that, Joanna. And you will feel so much more. I promise you it will all be worth it, at least for me. This is payment for all that I endured for your mother, your dear sainted mother. You owe me a cut for a cut, Joanna. Now be still and this will all be over soon, but not too soon.”

  Tears flooded down my face; I couldn’t move or fight yet. I heard Joanna scream in my head. Here we were, the two of us together, both bound to this body and neither of us able to help the other. Only a few more seconds, I told both Joanna and myself, but the pain screamed louder. I would have to endure it. I would have to! But the terror that rose up within me threatened to gag me, to smother me, to kill me. Just when I thought the pain was beyond bearable, Vivian stopped and smiled down at me. She was so much thinner now. All her beauty had been stolen; I saw only savageness in those wild Persian eyes. Even her lovely accent sounded hard.

  And she cut me again, along my neck now. Would she slice me from ear to ear? As painful as this was, I couldn’t imagine enduring much more. Then she was gone, and I sobbed; I hated that I made any sound at all, but I could not avoid it. Vivian reappeared with a small cup, ready to catch my blood. She pinched at the cut on my neck and forced the blood to flow more freely.

  “Why?” I managed to ask as I closed my eyes and focused on clenching my hands. I could hear a sound, like a clattering of wood. Was someone coming? Please let someone come! Help me! Mr. Lee muttered something, and I could hear his footsteps on the wooden floor. He was leaving, clearly to go investigate the sound.

  I could whimper now. In just another m
inute, I would be able to scream. But I had to remain as still as possible now. I just needed a moment to get stronger. I couldn’t let them know that I could move yet or else all hope would be lost.

  Oh, Paden! Help me!

  I saw the lights again, the blue and white lights. They were weak now, like me, but we would gain our strength. Yes, he was here! I could see him, but so could Vivian. She paused from her painful work and stood up straight.

  Only a few more minutes until I make my move. I will fight with every fiber of my being. I will fight with every breath. Until I have none left.

  Help me, Paden. Help Joanna.

  Chapter Twenty

  Another clatter of wood surprised Vivian; the sound appeared to come from behind her. She spun around and her tiny goblet clattered to the ground, and I imagined the splattering of blood that accompanied it. Vivian hissed at someone, a figure; I could see him in the shadows beyond the torch that sputtered evilly in the far wall.

  My neck hurt so badly. I had the sensation that the blood still flowed, but I didn’t move too much so I wouldn’t startle her. I had to wait for the right moment. I would make my move in that moment! Like a heroine in one of Joanna’s movies, I would escape! The sensation of pins and needles crept up from my feet and legs. Yes, it was in my hands now. I was getting back sensation quickly. I wiggled my fingers as unnoticeably as I could, not that Vivian was watching me. She was focused on whatever that sound had been and on whatever phantom hovered in the corner. Truly, it was like the room was alive with the sounds now. Wood clattering, the sound of swords crossing, whispers, hateful whispers—but strangely enough, I perceived that they weren’t against Joanna or me specifically. It was so strange. Were these elusive echoes a warning that another seizure would strike me soon? I couldn’t say. I hoped and prayed it wouldn’t.

  I wiggled my fingers again and felt something, something cold and metallic. I gripped it and hid it under my hand. What could it be? Vivian’s attention was kept by the invisible; she stared into the shadowy corner unmoving until Mr. Lee returned.