I found some bed-sheets, the same off-white ones that were currently covering the bed, an old woolen shawl that had seen better days, and then, at the bottom of the pile, two white nightdresses—once again, about as old-fashioned as possible, with long white sleeves with lace cuffs and a high, frilly collar. Under any other circumstances, I would have laughed at the thought of wearing something as ridiculous as this. I suddenly found myself missing Aida and Vita so much it made my heart hurt. I just wanted them to wake up—wake up and be perfectly fine, and exactly the same as they always had been, so they could laugh at me in this stupid nightgown.
After getting dressed, I started to wash my pajamas in the shower. They could dry overnight, and at least they’d be clean.
Once that was done, I started to pace the room. I was too shaken to sleep, and half contemplating the idea of going to see if Jovi was still awake, but I couldn’t hear any other sounds coming from the house. Either he’d managed to sleep, or he was at least trying to.
Do the same, idiot. Get some rest.
I placed the lamp next to the bed and shoved the sheets aside. Gingerly I climbed in, hating the smell of mildew and damp that wafted off the bedding. I lay back, staring up at the ceiling and unwilling to blow out the light.
My body felt exhausted, and it sank into the mattress gratefully, but my mind was tuned into every slight sound—every creak of plumbing or groan of the old house. It kept me irritatingly alert, my adrenaline spiking every time I heard a noise that sounded unfamiliar to me.
“Serena…Serena.”
I sat bolt upright in bed.
What was that?
I listened for the sound again, my heartbeat running at such a rapid and loud pace that I had trouble hearing anything else.
“Serena.” The call came again from outside the window. It sounded more like a whisper, called out in a tense, anguished voice… could that be the boys? I ran over and peered out into the garden. In the moonlight, I could make out two figures at the far end of the lawn.
What are they doing?
“Serena, come on,” they called again urgently, and this time I distinctly placed it as Field’s voice. I was instantly angry—whatever they were doing, we should have gone downstairs together!
“What are you doing?” I called out as loudly as I dared.
“Just get down here. We’ll explain!” Jovi shot back.
Ugh. “Okay, I’m coming!” I hissed, and waved at them both, indicating that I was coming down. I picked up the lamp from the bedside table and hurried out of the door. I ran as quietly as I could along the hallway, keeping my footsteps light and avoiding looking at any of the disturbing artifacts that had freaked me out earlier.
When I reached the staircase, I moved more slowly, avoiding the crack and wincing at every creak in the wood. I headed straight for the greenhouse, hoping that the Druid hadn’t had time to fix the glass pane. When I entered the tropical heat of the room, I was relieved to find that the exit was still open, and I picked my way gingerly across the glass-covered floor. I placed the lamp down by the exit and then stepped out onto the lawn.
I sighed with relief when I saw that they were still waiting for me—they hadn’t moved from their position at the edge of the lawn. I hurried into the overgrown grass, wondering if this was a stupid idea. The Druid had said that leaving the grounds was close to suicide…was it really something we wanted to be doing in the middle of the night?
“Serena, come on.” The voice came again, this time sounding more like Field.
“Yeah, I’m coming,” I replied angrily. As I ran across the lawn, the grass whipped at the nightdress and my bare feet, highlighting just how badly I was dressed for an escape plan—or whatever the heck this was.
The lawn was larger than it looked from above, and it seemed to take forever for me to reach them. They kept waiting patiently for me, not moving, and I wondered why Field wasn’t at least helping me out a bit by coming to pick me up. At the halfway point between the house and my friends, I heard the flutter of wings. Thinking that Field had finally got his act together, I looked up expectantly. It wasn’t Field, it was a bunch of ravens, circling me and squawking loudly.
“Go away!” I hissed at them, picking up my pace. Instead of backing off, they started to fly around my head—not pecking at me, but smacking their large wings into my face and leaving me disorientated. I threw my hands up, trying to knock them back, but they continued to circle me rapidly, their cries loud in my ears as they blocked out the moonlight and all I could feel was their thick feathers bashing into my face and limbs.
“Get off!” I cried.