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.A door creaked open and the tall figure of Loy stood there.“Milady.” He scowled at Arodilac.“Is she sleeping still?”“Aye.Not stirred a finger.”“We’ll just peep in then,” said Sibb.“The Guard must be assured that all of Hearne is sleeping safe in their beds.”Arodilac blushed but said nothing.Loy ushered them into a sitting chamber.A second door opened past that to a bedchamber.Arodilac could discern the form of the girl under the blankets.Her hair spilled about the pillow and gleamed whiter in the lamplight than the cotton sheets themselves.“I hope she doesn’t dream tonight,” said Sibb.Loy shut the door.“Satisfied?” he said, scowling at Arodilac.Somewhere nearby, a horse whinnied.The sound was faint, for the walls of the house were of thick stone.The noise came again, and there was a strange, shuddering note of desperation in the sound.It seemed as if it was no longer a horse whinnying but rather a child screaming, thin-voiced and out of breath.“What in shadow’s name is that?” said Loy.“My horse,” said Arodilac.He turned and sprinted down the hall.Loy ran after him.For some reason, Arodilac stopped at the top of the stairs and crouched down, staring into the chamber below.The light was dim in the space beneath, for there was only the single lamp hanging from the ceiling.“Why are you—?” said Loy.“Hush,” he said, and in that moment they heard clearly, from somewhere in the house, the sound of glass shattering.“See after the girl,” said Arodilac, his face white.“And bid Mistress Gawinn go to her children.”Arodilac looked frantically around, but there was nothing at hand except for a vase at the top of the stairs.It was filled with dried flowers.He plucked them out and laid them down, rustling, on the floor.The vase itself was scarcely as heavy as the flowers and he grimaced, hefting the thing in his hand.Still, anything was better than nothing.He crept down the stairs.The steps creaked beneath his feet and, with every groaning plank, his heart faltered within his chest.For some strange reason, the lamp hanging from the chamber ceiling was flickering as if blown by a gentle exhalation, even though the air around Arodilac was as still as if the house itself was holding its breath.Shadows gained form so that ghostly figures glided to and fro on the floor below the stairs.On the opposite wall, light glinted on a spear tip.It seemed as if the portrait above the spear winked—an old man with a scarred face.Arodilac blinked.And then he heard it.It was a quiet sound.A mere rearrangement of weight, as if someone had shifted their balance from one foot to the other.There, the sound came again.Arodilac looked through the railings.His breath caught in his throat.For there, staring up at him, were two red eyes.Two red spots gleaming in the gloom.At least he thought they were eyes.And then he knew beyond any doubt that they were eyes, for to his horror, the two red spots blinked and then blinked again, still staring up at him.The neck of the vase shattered in his hands.The noise seemed as loud as a thunderclap in the silence of the house.Blood dripped from his fingers where the pottery shards had cut him.He gasped.Below him, claws scrabbled on the floor.The steps creaked and up the stairs hurtled a form made out of shadows and teeth and glaring red eyes.The thing slammed against him and he was thrown against the banister.Wood splintered and he yelled, terrified, for there was nothing beneath his feet.He flailed out and caught hold of a railing, only to have it break, and then he was falling.His fingers grabbed onto something—a smooth horizontal piece of wood—that held, slowed him for a second.The frame of one of the paintings.Then it too snapped, and he heard the sound of canvas ripping.Arodilac slammed down hard on his back.For a moment he could not breathe and the lamp above him seemed to spin around in circles that left a trail of dull, flaring gold in the dark.He gulped and gulped again until the air came flooding painfully back into his lungs.He stumbled to his feet.Without even thinking, he grabbed hold of the nearest weapon—one of the spears—and wrenched it away from the wall.Then he ran for the staircase.He was halfway up the stairs when someone screamed.A figure lurched across the hall in front of him, a bundle clutched in its arms.Loy.Hair as white as corn silk flew up against his face and the bundle clutched back at him with desperate hands.The girl.She screamed again.It was a high, ugly sound.The scream of an animal without wits and without hope.Loy collided with the opposite wall and then stumbled down the hall, away from Arodilac and toward the window at the far end.Lamplight painted a wet red sheen on one of his legs.A shape drifted out of the door after him, a mass of shadow roughly formed in the shape of an immense dog [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.A door creaked open and the tall figure of Loy stood there.“Milady.” He scowled at Arodilac.“Is she sleeping still?”“Aye.Not stirred a finger.”“We’ll just peep in then,” said Sibb.“The Guard must be assured that all of Hearne is sleeping safe in their beds.”Arodilac blushed but said nothing.Loy ushered them into a sitting chamber.A second door opened past that to a bedchamber.Arodilac could discern the form of the girl under the blankets.Her hair spilled about the pillow and gleamed whiter in the lamplight than the cotton sheets themselves.“I hope she doesn’t dream tonight,” said Sibb.Loy shut the door.“Satisfied?” he said, scowling at Arodilac.Somewhere nearby, a horse whinnied.The sound was faint, for the walls of the house were of thick stone.The noise came again, and there was a strange, shuddering note of desperation in the sound.It seemed as if it was no longer a horse whinnying but rather a child screaming, thin-voiced and out of breath.“What in shadow’s name is that?” said Loy.“My horse,” said Arodilac.He turned and sprinted down the hall.Loy ran after him.For some reason, Arodilac stopped at the top of the stairs and crouched down, staring into the chamber below.The light was dim in the space beneath, for there was only the single lamp hanging from the ceiling.“Why are you—?” said Loy.“Hush,” he said, and in that moment they heard clearly, from somewhere in the house, the sound of glass shattering.“See after the girl,” said Arodilac, his face white.“And bid Mistress Gawinn go to her children.”Arodilac looked frantically around, but there was nothing at hand except for a vase at the top of the stairs.It was filled with dried flowers.He plucked them out and laid them down, rustling, on the floor.The vase itself was scarcely as heavy as the flowers and he grimaced, hefting the thing in his hand.Still, anything was better than nothing.He crept down the stairs.The steps creaked beneath his feet and, with every groaning plank, his heart faltered within his chest.For some strange reason, the lamp hanging from the chamber ceiling was flickering as if blown by a gentle exhalation, even though the air around Arodilac was as still as if the house itself was holding its breath.Shadows gained form so that ghostly figures glided to and fro on the floor below the stairs.On the opposite wall, light glinted on a spear tip.It seemed as if the portrait above the spear winked—an old man with a scarred face.Arodilac blinked.And then he heard it.It was a quiet sound.A mere rearrangement of weight, as if someone had shifted their balance from one foot to the other.There, the sound came again.Arodilac looked through the railings.His breath caught in his throat.For there, staring up at him, were two red eyes.Two red spots gleaming in the gloom.At least he thought they were eyes.And then he knew beyond any doubt that they were eyes, for to his horror, the two red spots blinked and then blinked again, still staring up at him.The neck of the vase shattered in his hands.The noise seemed as loud as a thunderclap in the silence of the house.Blood dripped from his fingers where the pottery shards had cut him.He gasped.Below him, claws scrabbled on the floor.The steps creaked and up the stairs hurtled a form made out of shadows and teeth and glaring red eyes.The thing slammed against him and he was thrown against the banister.Wood splintered and he yelled, terrified, for there was nothing beneath his feet.He flailed out and caught hold of a railing, only to have it break, and then he was falling.His fingers grabbed onto something—a smooth horizontal piece of wood—that held, slowed him for a second.The frame of one of the paintings.Then it too snapped, and he heard the sound of canvas ripping.Arodilac slammed down hard on his back.For a moment he could not breathe and the lamp above him seemed to spin around in circles that left a trail of dull, flaring gold in the dark.He gulped and gulped again until the air came flooding painfully back into his lungs.He stumbled to his feet.Without even thinking, he grabbed hold of the nearest weapon—one of the spears—and wrenched it away from the wall.Then he ran for the staircase.He was halfway up the stairs when someone screamed.A figure lurched across the hall in front of him, a bundle clutched in its arms.Loy.Hair as white as corn silk flew up against his face and the bundle clutched back at him with desperate hands.The girl.She screamed again.It was a high, ugly sound.The scream of an animal without wits and without hope.Loy collided with the opposite wall and then stumbled down the hall, away from Arodilac and toward the window at the far end.Lamplight painted a wet red sheen on one of his legs.A shape drifted out of the door after him, a mass of shadow roughly formed in the shape of an immense dog [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]