The Secrets of Darkling Manor

Thirty-three: Aleksander Morozova

Thirty-three:

Aleksander Morozova

He convinced Alina to go back to the house with him. For the second time. To the house with its ghosts, and the nightmares, and the lies. If it weren't for Genya, he suspected she would have run a long time ago. But Alina knew what it was like to have no choice in where she lived or who took care of her. Perhaps it said something that, despite everything, she was still choosing to stay with him.

The house was emptier now, without Baghra haunting it. It stayed silent for the most part. Emptier. Lonelier. Especially since Alina refused, again, to come to his bed. She stayed in one of the guest bedrooms.

Every night, he went out and put salt around the house. He had no idea if it did anything but Luda had been mostly quiet. Each morning, he went for a walk to the pond, to see if the witch was still there. Each morning, he saw her, hovering above the waters surface, flickering in and out.

Mal had not made another appearance. He wondered if haunting Alina until she understood the truth had made his cousins ghost move on. But he didn't know. He didn't understand what made one ghost stay, and what made another ghost leave.

Baghra's absence was felt. The Darkling's continued to die.

One day, he woke to the sound of their horrible cries coming from somewhere inside the house. He bolted up from his bed, running down the stairs, and followed the noise to the kitchen. Alina was there, with what appeared to be a live Darkling.

"Alina, no!" he cried out.

"It's the birds!" she blurted. "It has to be them. There are less of them now, and if I can figure out how the ghosts are connected, we can get rid of them. Or maybe I just kill them all."

"You can't," he grabbed hold of her, pulling her away from the kitchen island where she had been poking and prodding at the thing with a fork.

"You don't understand!" Alina shouted. "I hear them. I feel them."

His brow furrowed together. "What are you talking about?"

"The ghosts, Aleks," she said, "I know it seems like they are gone...but last night I woke to Baghra sitting in the rocking chair in my bed. The first night here, it was Mal, flicking my lights off and on, off and on....and Luda...."

"Luda what?" he said.

"I am not sure if I am her or I am me," she dropped the fork in her hand, and then she buried her face into his chest as she sobbed.

Aleksander held her close, rubbing her back. He made shushing sounds, trying to calm her. "We're going to figure this out, but killing the birds isn't the way to do it."

"How do you know?" Alina asked, wiping tears from her face and looking up at him as she did.

He took a deep breath. "Because I've done it before."

She blinked. "You killed birds?"

He nodded. "Baghra was the first ghost that haunted our home. My father didn't. I don't know why. I've never been able to figure out how it worked. But each morning, I would wake to the sound of the Darklings, and the sound was driving me mad. I was convinced that if I could just get rid of the birds, Baghra would stop haunting me. Then there was this strange man that appeared out of nowhere...."

"A man?" Alina said.

"Yes," he scratched his chin, "he looked strangely like me, come to think of it. He told me it was a crime to kill a Darkling, and that if I ever did it again, he'd kill me."

"And then?"

"He disappeared, and it was rather enough to shake me up. But according to UK Law, it is illegal to kill a Darkling. They are on the endangered species list. I looked it up myself."

"The house is sucking the life out of me, Aleks," said Alina, "I don't know what else to do."

"Well," said Aleksander, "we could always go to The Church of Saints."

"The Church of Saints?"

He nodded. "It's an archaic religion that has mostly died out, but if you believe the legends, it's where Saint Alina comes from. We could find out more about her origins, about the house..."

"Do you really think the truth of everything, how to fix this mess, is in the past?"

He shrugged. "Why not? We have seen crazier things."

She chuckled bitterly. "I suppose you're right."

There was a long pause. "Aleks..." Alina whispered his name softly, as if she were afraid she might wake the dead.

"Yes, my love?"

"Can I stay with you tonight? I don't want to sleep alone. Maybe if I'm not alone..." she didn't finish her thought.

"You can always sleep with me, Alina," he said, "you never have to ask."

The rest of the day, he stayed with her, and Genya. Alina found one of the old chefs' cookbooks and she made cookies, while he and Genya helped. After they had put Genya to sleep, Alina followed him to their room, and she slept curled up in a ball next to him. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around her, as if he could keep the ghosts at bay.

Nothing ever worked though. Not even his love for her. Because, in the middle of the night, he heard the whispering begin. Luda's voice, softly, in his ear. "Aleksander...."