Secrets in the Dark
the forest—they either looked hungry or afraid. Never curious.”“So the masks may have sheltered us—for a stretch. But the creatures are starving. You saw how they descended on the hollow we killed. Even his bones were broken and consumed. After that, they lost all control.”
Clare agreed. “Like an animal that becomes so hungry that it ignores every other instinct. Maybe killing that first hollow pushed the rest into a frenzy.”
“But even if they do not protect us completely, the masks should at least buy us some time. That will help.” Dorran nodded to himself. “The journey will be dangerous, but not unachievable. We would need to find a way to keep the garden stable while we are away. And we would need part of our fuel reserves for the car. But if you are prepared to take a risk, I am, as well.”
“Yes.” Clare’s heart felt painfully full. The radio stood on the shelf, turned on but its volume kept low to muffle the static. She wished she could talk to Beth, to tell her what they were thinking, to tell her they were coming.
“I will see about the engine tomorrow—and see what it might need to be compatible with your car.”
“Thank you.”
The gap between their chairs was narrow, but Clare reached between it to be closer to Dorran. He took her hand. They sat in silence, drinking their wine as they watched the fire. When Clare glanced towards her companion, she thought he looked the happiest she had ever seen him. Dorran wasn’t the kind of person to grin or pose. But a small, content smile curved his lips, and his heavy-lidded eyes were bright. He ran his thumb over Clare’s fingers. His happiness was infectious. When Clare fell asleep that night, she was almost comfortable enough to ignore the scratching in the walls.
Chapter Twelve
Clare hadn’t thought it was possible to be as stiff as she was. Every time she moved her arms, the muscles ached, running from her shoulder blades down to her hands.
Light came through the gauzy curtains to flow across the wallpaper. She’d slept in late. Clare sat up in bed, groaning under her breath, and blinked sleep out of her eyes. Dorran’s half of the bed was empty. A bowl on the bedside table was covered with a plate to retain its heat, and a small note, written in ink, was poised on top.
I will be back soon. Wait for me. Love, D.
“Seriously? You don’t let me wander around the house alone.” Clare grumbled as she threw the blankets aside and slipped sore feet into her boots. “Double standards.”
She touched the bowl’s side. It was still warm. He couldn’t have gone far. A faint worry that he might have left for the shed alone—ventured outside, where she couldn’t protect him if anything went wrong—tightened Clare’s chest. She tied her hair back as she tried to quiet her mind. Dorran was stubborn, but he wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t step into a situation that risky without at least telling her. More likely, he had gone to water the garden or unpack their new supplies.
Still, Clare’s mind continued to buzz. She ignored the food and crossed to the door as she pulled on her coat. The house felt strangely quiet. She paused on the hallway landing, squinting in each direction, trying to read the shadows that clung to the walls.
A door slammed, and Clare jolted. She clenched her teeth as she looked towards the stairs. The sound had come from the floor below.
It’s just Dorran. Probably.
She stepped back inside the bedroom. The fire poker rested beside the chairs, where she had left it the previous evening. Clare took it up and returned to the halls.
The stairs carried her downwards, and she moved carefully to keep her footsteps silent. The second floor was bitterly dark except for one hall: a single lit candle had been positioned on one of the tables clustered along the walls. There was no sign of Dorran. At the end of the hallway, a curtain blocked out the window. Some additional light would make her feel safer. She licked her lips, glancing into the twisting darkness behind her, then began edging towards the window.
“Dorran?” Her voice cracked, and she regretted the word as soon as it left her. It wasn’t wise to advertise her position in case something less friendly lurked in the halls.
Dorran rarely left her alone in the manor. She’d taken it for granted until that morning, but all of a sudden, Clare was aware of how vulnerable she was. She swung the metal bar at her side, her pulse harsh. The walls seemed to be closing in around her, squeezing.
She could return to her room. But that would still leave Dorran out in the house somewhere, in just as much danger as she was. Clare bit the inside of her cheek and moved to the window in three long steps. She grasped a handful of the material dampening the light and pulled it aside.
The ethereal white fields were obscured by ice crusting across the panes. Clare could faintly make out her own reflection. The candle glowed behind her, meagre and flickering as a gust of cold air blew across it. Something else moved in the reflection. A tall creature, stepping through a gap in the hallway walls, its bulging, hairless head tilting as it stared at Clare.
She gasped and swung, bringing the crowbar around as she turned. The metal whistled through the air but missed its mark as the figure ducked. Clare staggered with momentum, dropped the crowbar, and pressed her hand over her pounding heart. “Dorran!”
He pulled off the fencing mask, his eyes wild. They stared at each other for a second, then he broke into laughter. “I am so sorry, my dear. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Clare closed the distance between them and pressed her hands to his chest, checking he was really there. “I couldn’t see your face—I thought you were a hollow. I could have really