A Fever Dream

CHAPTER 22. Shadows of the Past

I blinked into the darkness, as shivers broke through my body.

It was colder now even than it had been a couple of moments ago and I wished I had not left my shawl at the dining hall. I really wished I didn't go there in the first place.

Just like it came, the noise stopped and the darkness around me drowned in the eerie quiet. The only things I could hear were my own heart and the drip-drop of water somewhere in the chamber.

Fighting my own desire to stay here forever, carefully, I unlatched the bolt and peered into the little corridor, adjacent to the dining hall.

There wasn't a single ray of light, nor a single candle. The darkness was even more opaque than in a little chamber. It looked like dark pigment which could color your fingers the instant you dipped them in.

I should have turned to the exit and left. That would have been a sensible decision. I could probably remember the direction if I moved along the walls. This would have been a perfect escape.

But the temperature dropped a bit more, and I clenched my jaw so it would not tick. This and the strange quietness made something in the pit of my stomach wrench.

Taking a deep breath and cursing my own curiosity, I moved along the wall one step at a time, till the darkness became more transparent and a pale blue shadow marked the arch opening up into the dining hall.

I fisted my hands, breaking the skin of my palms with my nails to suppress a gasp.

For in the pale blue moonlight, taken out from some other reality and so out of place in the summer night, every person in the dining room stood frozen. Stopped midway with their mouths hanging open, with glasses tipped to the side and hands awkwardly shielding from the windows. Glistening veins of frost snaked among them on the floor, trailing along the walls and the broken windows like icy grapevines.

A lonely snowflake landed on my face. I took a shuddering breath and it seemed to freeze out my soul.

The summer seemed to have finally ended.

***

I stared into the room, stock- still. Everyone was turned into a statue, except for me and I had no idea how it happened.

Everyone, except for...

There was another figure in the middle of the room, which seemed to be moving. As my eyes adjusted to the not-so-thick night highlighted by moonlight and sharp stars in the skies, I recognized Alex.

His back was slumped and he seemed to be peering at something in the darkness.

Just about to rush ahead, I noticed that the darkness at the brighter end of the hall was not homogenous. Some areas seemed more like clouds of black smoke, floating above the floor. They did not have a particular shape, did not make a sound, just slid along the tables, right through the palm trees in buckets and plush sofas. Like hounds, they seemed to be looking for something. One of them lingered directly in front of the prince. And then a voice, more like a rattle of trees in the storm, echoed from all places at once.

"Where is the boy?" The voice hissed and my toes curled and my blood churned from its timbre. "Give us the boy, or prepare for war."

Alex cleared his throat and to my astonishment, his next words sounded as if it was a casual conversation and not a tet-a-tet with some nightmare creature.

"I already told you. The boy in question has already met his untimely end."

"Liar!" The voices shrieked all at once and I had to clasp my hands over my ears.