Emma Hartley's Arc

Chapter 4 of 4

The cat led them off the glowing path and into a low field of mist. Small white flowers floated in the mist like stars caught in water. Emma held Mr. Whiskers against her chin. Mara walked a step behind, the dead lantern still in her hand, useless now. "Where's it taking us," Emma whispered. "Somewhere that will let us in," Mara said. "Or won't." The mist thinned. A dark shape rose ahead of them, tall and full of windows. A house made of shadow, wound with pale climbing blooms. The cat sat down at the edge of the garden and waited. Emma stepped onto the soft ground. Trees stood between her and the house, their branches heavy with tiny white flowers that shivered when nothing moved them. In the middle of the garden, near a bent tree, a woman stood with her back to them. She was a black silhouette under a grey veil. She held a small candle. Its flame was tall and perfectly still. Emma stopped. "Is that lady safe." "Quiet," Mara said. She had gone very still herself. The woman turned. She did not seem surprised. She looked past Emma, at something behind her, and lifted the candle a little. Emma turned to see. On the path she had just walked, something crouched low in the mist. It was shaped like a person, but wrong at the shoulders. Its head lifted. Two pale eyes opened where a face should be. It had followed them off the glowing path. It had waited for them to leave it. Emma's knees locked. Mr. Whiskers pressed into her collarbone. She could not remember how her feet worked. The woman with the candle walked past her. Her feet did not seem to touch the ground. She stopped between Emma and the crouching thing and stood there, candle held out, flame straight up as a nail. "Just look at me," the woman said. Her voice was almost nothing. "And don’t run" Emma did not run. She could not. The shadow thing in the mist rocked forward on its hands. It came one step closer. The candle flame did not move. The woman did not move. The thing lowered its head, sniffed at the edge of the garden, and could not seem to cross it. It made a small sound like wet cloth. Then it slid backward into the mist and was gone. The candle flame dropped. It flickered normal again. The woman lowered her arm. "Inside," she said, not looking back. "Both of you. Now." Emma looked up at Mara. Mara nodded once. Emma walked past the tall still woman, into the garden, toward the door of the shadow house. Mr. Whiskers was crushed against her chest. Behind her, the cat stood up and walked away between the trees, its work done.