And at that precise moment, when I could have used every advantage, every scrap of cover, the rain stopped. New sounds came to me suddenly—the distant trill of a loon, the muted rush of the waterfall.
I could hear breathing now, too, a sharp inhale-exhale as if my scent had been caught. The killer was right there. Right behind me.
Dropping to my knees, I scrambled up under the branches. The rhododendron—a dense, stunted nightmare—was now my ally.
My lip had been split, and I pressed the back of my hand to the pain, trying to relieve the throbbing pressure. I tasted blood and thought again of Freya. I didn’t want to meet the same end. She had been young, pregnant and desperate—easy prey. At least I had the advantage of knowing the game.
Huddling beneath the branches, I pictured the killer in the clearing, patiently waiting for the quarry to take flight. I didn’t move even to tuck back the hair from my eyes. I hardly dared to breathe. I was concealed for the moment by the screen of leaves and limbs. All I had to do was keep still. The killer would have no way of knowing which way I’d gone. After that initial mad flight, I’d learned a valuable lesson. The trail of broken twigs had led straight to me. From now on, I wouldn’t make it so easy.
The killer was moving around in the clearing now. I could hear the scrape of branches and the shallow, rapid breaths that came from excitement. I peered through the snarled branches until a form took shape.
I made no sound. I was sure of that. But all of a sudden the ax slashed down through the twisted limbs right above me. I didn’t scream. I barely even gasped. Something more than fear drove me now. Instinct for survival, yes, but also anger. Anger at what had been done to my young mother. Anger at being hunted like an animal. I wouldn’t succumb to fear or panic. I bit down hard on my sore lip, and the pain gave me a spurt of adrenaline.
On hands and knees, I crawled through the endless tunnels of tree trunks as the ax chopped at the branches above me. I felt the blade graze my shoulder, and I went flat, propelling myself forward on my stomach until I was safely out of reach. I could move faster underneath the canopy, and I almost expected the killer to ditch the ax and come in after me. But miraculously, the sound moved away from me, and I realized I hadn’t been spotted, after all. The killer fanned out around the clearing, trying to flush me out.
Now that the rain had stopped, sound carried surprisingly well, and I heard the thrash of another body moving through the bald. The killer heard it, too, and reversed course making a beeline toward it. I wanted to call out, not just for help but as a warning. But what if someone had come to help the killer? If I gave away my position, I would be a sitting duck beneath that canopy.
I waited until the sound of the chopping faded, and even then I didn’t ease back into the clearing. Instead, I stayed on all fours and began a long, miserable crawl through that thicket. The feeling of isolation and impending doom sapped my energy and destroyed my will, but I forced myself to go on. I had no choice. The canopy had tightened, and the only way in or out was on hands and knees.
At some point, I thought I heard the hack of the killer’s ax coming closer, but it may well have been my imagination. It was dark beneath those branches, and with no sense of direction the mind began to play tricks. I heard my name called, softly, furtively, and I had to catch myself from responding, so great was my need for human contact.
What if I never got out? What if I died in here, all alone without seeing my mother or my aunt or my papa ever again? Without finding Tilly—
I cut off those insidious thoughts. I couldn’t lose control. I had to stay focused. There must be a path somewhere, an animal trail that would lead me to the edge of the thicket.
On and on I crawled. My knees were raw and bleeding, and I was in torment from a thousand scratches. After a while I began to hallucinate. I could see glowing eyes deep within the laurel tunnels, and the ground beneath me trembled, as if in the aftermath of an earthquake. Worst of all, I heard the whisper of my name, and I thought that it was Thane. His voice was so real to me that I once again started to call out. But reason interjected, and I realized that it was only my imagination or some terrible trick. Even if he was there, he might be in league with the killer. He might even be the killer.
Amelia…can you hear me? Amelia…answer me… .
“Thane?” I said his name aloud into the wind, but he didn’t respond because he wasn’t really there. No one was. Not even the killer.
I was all alone in my own private hell.
* * *
I lost all sense of time as well as direction. I had no idea how long I’d been crawling through that maze, but it must have been hours. The canopy was so solid, I couldn’t see the sky to gauge the time of day. There was no way to follow moon, stars or even the mountain peaks. It really was a damnable web, and for all I knew, I’d been crawling around in a circle.
Energy flagged and I stopped to rest. Drawing my bloody knees up to my chest, I wrapped my arms around my legs and sat there wet and trembling and demoralized. I don’t think I was even frightened of the killer at that point. I might even have welcomed the sound of the ax hacking a path toward me because at that moment, anything would have been preferable to that utter seclusion.
I knew that I would have to somehow rally and keep moving, but for a moment, I allowed myself to flounder in hopelessness and self-pity. I probed at the scrapes on my knees and wiped blood and rain from my face. The scratches from the laurel bark were far more painful than the surface cut left by the ax, but the idea of that blade slashing down through leaf and stem drew a very deep shudder.
Still I sat there. I couldn’t make myself go any farther. It wasn’t like me to give up, but I had nothing left in me. No energy, no hope, not even the anger anymore. The thought of remaining there until a wild animal picked up my scent or until I died of starvation was not without appeal. All I wanted was to just…sit there.
And then through that dense foliage, a sound came to me, and I discovered that I wasn’t quite as apathetic as I’d thought. Something was coming, and my head jerked up to register both sound and direction.
Whoever it was—whatever it was—stayed low to the ground and moved quickly. A scent came to me then, that of a rotting corpse, and even as fear exploded, I again tried to tell myself it was just an animal carcass. Something had died in the bald, and the wind had shifted so that I only now got a whiff.
But that scrabbling sound…
As my gaze scoured the tree trunks in front of me, I caught the dart of something down one of the tunnels. It was only a flash, a shadow, but in that brief instant, I saw the flare of a coat. Or was that wings?
The idea of something not quite human stalking me through that godforsaken warren brought me to my feet, and I plunged irrationally into the thicket only to run up against an impenetrable wall of limbs.
Teeth chattering from cold and fear, I once again dropped to my knees and scrambled down one of the burrows.
I could hear it behind me. Then in front of me. Then off to the side. Whichever way I turned, it was always there. And that smell… Oh, God…that smell…
Panic spiraled out of control, and my breath came in sobs. Twigs snapped directly over me as if the thing had climbed to the top of the canopy and crawled above me. Heart pounding, I stopped and looked up. I could see nothing, hear nothing. But that fetid smell crept down through the branches and gagged me.
Fear flailed anew, and I turned to clamber through one channel and then another. Twigs and leaves rained down on me as the thing kept pace with me.
After a moment, I realized that it wasn’t keeping pace at all. Rather, it seemed to be herding me. It stayed just ahead of me, causing me to turn this way and that in a futile attempt to escape.
The worst part was…I didn’t even know if it was real. Maybe my mind had broken down completely and the thing had been sprouted by fear, panic and insanity.
I glanced up again, saw a pale eye leering down at me through the branches, and it was all I
could do to choke back a scream. A shriek would undoubtedly bring the killer, and I couldn’t be certain my otherworldly stalker hadn’t been dredged from the deepest, darkest corners of a mad mind.
Maybe the killer wasn’t even real. Maybe everything that had happened in Asher Falls was just a nightmare… .
I kept going, babbling under my breath, “It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real.”
The rain was still coming down. On some level, I’d been aware of the drum on the leaves all along, but now when I looked up, the drops pelted my face, and I realized that the blind had thinned. Light seeped through and I could see nothing in the trees above me, hear nothing in the underbrush all around me. The thing was gone and with it, my panic. I closed my eyes for one brief moment and let the chill of the rain revive me. Then I rose on shaking legs and stumbled forward.
The edge of the thicket beckoned.
Thirty-Six
As I stumbled out of the bald, the rain slacked. It seemed like a sign, and I felt almost giddy with relief. I could see mountain and sky and, through a break in the rain clouds, a sliver of moon. The air was fragrant with evergreen, the cool darkness now a welcome cocoon.
But I still had no idea where I was. None of the landmarks looked at all familiar, and after a momentary reprieve, panic resurfaced. I’d found my way out of the maze, but I was still lost. And I was still being pursued by a killer, someone who knew the area like their own backyard. I couldn’t stand there forever and wait to be found. I had to get moving.
I started to climb, picking my way through the trees and up a steep, rugged incline that quickly stole the reserve of my energy. The going was slow without a flashlight, the path treacherous with fallen branches and slippery stones. I had to stop once to remove a pebble from my boot, but the damage had already been done to the tender tissue in my heel, and I had to bite back a cry of pain and frustration.
Somewhere above me, I could hear the muted sound of rushing water and thought I must have come out of the bald on the back side of the waterfall. If I followed the base of the cliff, I would eventually arrive at that arched opening, and from there I could find my way back to the cemetery and my car.
As I knelt to relace my boot, I heard what I thought was the distant rumble of thunder. But in the next moment, the whole mountain seemed to shudder, and an avalanche of pebbles and stones rained down upon me. Scrambling for shelter beneath a rocky ledge, I huddled there until I was sure the rock slide had run its course, and then once again I began to climb.
Even though I’d never been on this side of the hill, I was starting to get my bearings. The ground leveled out, and a crude path ran along the foot of the cliff. The going here was a good deal easier, but I had to keep constant vigil because I was more or less in the open. The sound of the waterfall grew ever louder as I limped along, and just ahead, I spotted what I thought was the arched entrance to the glade. My heart started to race because, for the first time in hours, I knew exactly where I was. With any luck, I could be back at the cemetery within half an hour.
A hawk took flight from the top of the cliff, and I spun to track it against the gloomy sky. What had startled it from its roost? I wondered uneasily. And then as I slowly turned back to the path, I caught the bob of a flashlight coming across the meadow still some distance away.
I darted off the path and flattened myself against the rock, but with the moon peeking from the clouds now, I was completely exposed. For a moment, I considered turning back, but then I remembered that Thane had told me there was another way up to the top of the cliff. If someone had been up there just now and startled the hawk, I might have already been seen. They might be on their way down even now, and in my present condition, I could never outrun them.
My only hope was to find a place to hide, but even with the hunters closing in on me, I hesitated to enter the glade. I remembered all too well that feeling of being penned in, the almost suffocating claustrophobia. The scars on Wayne Van Zandt’s face.
But I was already hemmed in with someone approaching from the meadow and, for all I knew, someone already behind me on the path. There was nowhere to go but inside the arch.
Even so, I might still have resisted if I hadn’t heard Angus bark in distress. The sound was muffled, as if he were a long way off.
“Angus!” I called in a loud whisper. “Angus, where are you?”
An answering whimper came from the depths of the cave.
Careful. It could be a trick, a little voice warned me.
Easing through the archway, I said his name softly, “Angus.”
As I scoured those rock walls, I felt eyes staring back at me from every crack and crevice, saw the dart of shadows along the shelves and ledges. The place seemed alive in the moonlight.
“Where are you, boy?”
As I moved across the clearing, I heard a faint noise outside the arch, the softest of footfalls. My mind raced frantically. I couldn’t hide in the cave…it was a dead end, another trap. Thane had said it ended a quarter of a mile in.
I whirled as the footsteps drew closer.
Then once again, my gaze scaled those walls, treacherous enough in daylight, but by darkness, it would be a suicide climb… .
I imagined the ax hacking through my flesh, and I turned to scramble up the wall, fear and desperation unleashing agility I never knew I had. Even in the dark, I managed to find handholds and footholds, some of them crumbling away into nothingness as I climbed. I was almost to the nearest ledge when I sensed, more than heard, someone enter. I scurried up as silently as I could, hoping that by some miracle of miracles I wouldn’t be made. Pressing myself against the wall, I glanced down into the glade.
From my vantage, I could see Luna clearly as she moved into the center of the clearing and flung her arms wide, head tilted to the mountains, turning and turning, calling the evil just as I had in that circle of Asher angels.
Gone was her lush hair, the luminous skin, the voluptuous figure that the years seemed hardly to have touched. The mask had slipped yet again, revealing a face and body that were wrinkled and withered.
She held the flashlight in one hand and in the other, something that shone in the moonlight. It was one of the curved knives I’d seen in her office. Perhaps the same blade she’d used to slit my young mother’s throat.
Eyes open now, she continued to turn in a slow circle, scanning the walls. Lowering her arms, she started back toward the arch, and for one breathless moment, I thought she might have given up. The relief left me light-headed as I pressed my cheek against the cool, wet rock.
Then I heard a whimper.
Luna stopped, turned, her gaze going back to the cave. Even in the moonlight, I saw the tilt of her lips, could almost hear the rush of adrenaline through her veins as she caressed the knife blade.
My heart was still pounded, but not in fear for my own safety.
I rose on the ledge, sending an avalanche of pebbles down into the glade. She looked up, and I could see moonlight gleaming in her eyes.
“There you are.” Her tone was so casual she might have been inquiring about the weather.
I flattened myself against the wall, trying to meld into the stone. My gaze lifted, gauging the distance to the top of the cliff or even to the next ledge.
“I wouldn’t try it if I were you,” she said as she walked toward the base. “If you keep still, I won’t hurt the dog.”
I stared down at her from my ledge. “Why should I believe you?”
“What choice do you have?”
“You killed Freya,” I accused.
Luna shrugged. “She was a nuisance just like you.”
“Why am I a nuisance?” Keep her talking, I thought. Keep her engaged until I could figure a way out.
“You’re very draining, Amelia.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look at me. Look at my face. That’s your doing.”
“How?”
“Everything changed when you came. The wind, this mountai
n…even the dead.”
A cold breeze swept over me, and I thought again of Emelyn Asher’s corpse. “How do you know that’s my doing?”
“Oh, it’s you. You’ve somehow fed on our energy. You’ve somehow usurped all my power.” Her eyes glittered dangerously. “And I mean to have it back.”
I thought I had scaled the wall with relative ease, but she came up like a panther. Within moments she’d climbed above me on the wall, and as she jumped down to the ledge, I turned and leaped to the next. The edge of it crumbled beneath my boots, and I hovered for what seemed an eternity before I found my balance and dug my hands into the tiny crevices in the wall.
“I’m Pell Asher’s granddaughter. If you kill me, he won’t make it go away this time. He’ll come after you.”
The Kingdom Page 28
