RISING SHADOWS (Shadows Book 2)

Chapter 19

When I awoke, it wasn't wrapped in the comforting floral scent of my grandmother but a mixture of something earthy and clean. Something familiar that stirred different feelings within me. I turned, stretching as I did, feeling my bones crack and aches dull my limbs. Finding myself alone, my body snapped up with a sharp jolt.

This was not the safe house.

I was laying in a bed of smooth peacock-blue sheets with a matching canopy overhead held in place by four posts. The room was simple enough, bed, a wardrobe for clothes, a fire for keeping warm on the coldest of nights. An armchair sat near the window, faded and frayed. It looked like it might have been yellow once with a delicate pattern, but the seat and arms had been worn right down to the beige fabric underneath. A black and white book lay on the seat and when I leaned over to look, I could see the title read The Princess Bride. I almost chuckled to myself. He hadn't been joking after all. Empty wooden pegs stuck out from the stones on one wall. It looked like there wasn't anything from this century in here.

I freed myself of my silken bonds and padded barefoot over to the window. The courtyard was silent, the muted grey of early morning sitting heavy around the castle's towers and its ancient stones slick with overnight rain. Ravenshold. I breathed easier now, Rafe had brought us to Ravenshold.

I pressed my palms to the glass panes wanting the cold to soothe my heat but the glass misted upon contact with my fingers and where there had been silence, violent winds materialised out of nowhere. They raced towards the window, battering it with invisible fists, my hand feeling every pulse as the window jumped at the onslaught.

My hand fell back down at my side and the wind died as though it had never been.

Air, the unwanted gift Astrea had thrust upon me. My chest heaved. The gift Astrea had died to give me. The new magic buzzing across my skin made me feel sick. It didn't belong to me. I didn't want it. Taking Tor's power had been different, in some twisted way I believed she deserved it after all she'd done but my mother's sister- a lump bulged in my throat.

I left the room in a hurry, desperate to find Rafe.

The room opened out into a long hallway, probably longer than the whole of the cottage and as wide as any room I'd been in. It made me long for home. Light flooded in from three huge bay windows which reached up to the decorative plaster-white ceiling. I hurried along, keeping to the runner in the middle.

Rounding a corner at the end, I nearly collided with a woman coming out of another room. She smiled at me and I recognised her immediately.

"Sorry," I muttered, jumping back.

Niamh pulled a cream dressing gown tighter around her body and fastened the belt which had hung behind her like a tail.

Sleep had thrown her auburn curls into disarray. Her head bowed as she took me in, the nightgown I'd taken from the cottage scraping my battered kneecaps, my bare feet buzzing with a numbness on the freezing stone floor.

I pressed my legs together, hugging my arms to my body.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"Do you know where Rafe is?"

Niamh cocked her head at me, her eyes softening the way that only a mother's does. But I took one step back, worried that she would reach for me and repeated my question.

"How about I run you a nice, soothing bath?"

My aching body warmed at the prospect but I needed to see Rafe. "No. I need Rafe."

"If he's not in his room with you then he'll be in the chapel," she sighed, quickly realising she wasn't going to get through to me. "Unless he's been called away."