Once again, I opened where I’d left off last.
Almus has left. He departed early yesterday morning, saying he would return in a few days. He hopes to find the remaining philosophers he suspects went into hiding in the mountains. He plans to return them here, and plan an attack of their own—aligning with the incubi and the Deargs to bring Azazel down. I can see nothing of his future. It has gone dark where he is concerned. I feel hopeless. Anxiety gnaws at me constantly, and the only thing I am able to do is keep my fears away from Draven as best I can. He is such a sweet boy—he has his father’s eyes, and his temperament too. I love him like he was my own child, and hope for his sake more than my own that the vision I had of the three of us crossing a safe path through the jungle to the nearest citadel is one that begins here.
I turned the page, eager to know what came next. Before I could read the first line, I almost jumped out of my skin as the door was pushed open. Draven stood in the doorway, looking mildly amused at the fright he’d just given me.
“You scared the crap out of me,” I grumbled.
“Sorry, I—” He stopped mid-sentence, his gaze resting on the leather-bound diary. “Where did you find that?” he asked coldly.
“In the drawer—the dresser,” I replied meekly, feeling guilty for snooping around and reading the private thoughts of a woman who, for all intents and purposes, was his mother. He leaned over, taking the book from my hand. I let him, watching as he gently caressed the leather of the notebook.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“It’s all right,” he muttered after a pause.
He handed the book back to me, his gray eyes sorrowful. I placed it beside me, wondering why he had ventured up here in the first place. From his reaction, I didn’t think he’d known the diary was still here.
“What happened to her?” I asked again, knowing I was pushing my luck.
“Not tonight, Serena. I’ve told you enough. Let some ghosts lie.”
I stayed silent for once—ignoring the burning need I had to know more about her, to finally put her to rest.
“I have no doubt that you’ll keep reading it,” he continued, his voice slightly softer. “You can find out that way.”
I nodded, grateful that I would no longer have to hide my reading of it in front of him. If we were going to try to trust one another, then the fewer secrets between us the better. Not that I didn’t think the Druid had plenty of his own which he fully intended to keep.
“Did you find the clothes?” he asked, his gaze sweeping over my ridiculous frilly nightgown.
“I’ll take them up to the attic tomorrow morning. No way am I going up there in the dark,” I muttered.
“The house is perfectly safe,” he replied. “It’s only outside that you need to be wary.”
I wanted to laugh.
“Draven, I’m sorry, but this house is like something out of a horror story. The stuffed animals, the creepy pictures everywhere—just the fact that it’s falling to pieces around us would be enough of a red flag on its own, without the rest of it.”
“Really?” he replied, his expression curious. “I had never thought of it that way. I suppose you may find it a little odd. I suppose I don’t really notice it that much anymore.”
I thought about all the years he’d lived here…since the eighteen hundreds. That was an impossible amount of time to remain in one place. How he had not gone completely insane, I would never know.
“You must have been lonely here,” I said instead.
He shrugged. “I like my own company, perhaps more than the company of others.”
“How do you know that if you’ve never had company—other than Elissa and your father?” I countered. “Maybe you’re lonely and you don’t even know it.”
“I consider you and your friends company, and I’ve found you all exceedingly tiresome.”
I laughed out loud at his reply, quickly muffling the sound with my sleeve so as not to wake the others. Well, at least he was upfront about some things.
“We’re not exactly having the time of our lives here, either,” I replied, hoping to remind him that it was he who had brought us here—we were not uninvited guests who were overstaying their welcome.
“I know that. Which is why I want you all to be as comfortable as possible. Hence the clothing. And anything else you need, just say. If it is in my power to give it, I will do so.”
“I appreciate it,” I replied gently. I meant it. I did believe that he was doing what he thought was best for us. No matter how much I disagreed with his methods, I felt there was an honesty behind it all—a reluctance to have Azazel destroy any more lives than he had done already.