Lyra Silverfang's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

Renee led the way up a long hill. Marcus walked behind them, silent now, his heavy steps crunching the snow. Lyra followed because she had no choice. Her legs shook with every step. The cold had sunk deep into her bones. At the top of the hill stood a manor. It rose black against the storm, with steep roofs and pointed windows. Orange firelight glowed behind the glass. Below, far down the slope, Lyra saw the small lights of a village. She wondered if anyone there knew who lived up here. "Keep moving," Renee said. "You're turning blue." Lyra's teeth chattered too hard to answer. She climbed the stone steps. Marcus pushed the heavy doors open with one clawed hand, then stood aside like a guard. Inside, warmth hit her like a wall. A fire burned in a great stone hearth. Lyra stumbled toward it and dropped to her knees on the rug. She held her hands to the flames. Her fingers burned as feeling came back. An old man appeared in the doorway. He wore a black butler's suit, pressed and neat, with white gloves. His face was lined and tired. He looked at Lyra on the floor and did not seem surprised. "Another one, madam," he said. His voice was flat. "Shall I prepare the east room?" "Please, Reginald," Renee said. She pulled off her gloves. "And bring dry clothes. Hers are soaked through." Reginald bowed. But before he turned, his eyes met Lyra's. He gave a small, sad shake of his head. The gesture was quick. Renee did not see it. Lyra did. "Warm yourself," Renee said. She crossed to a tall chair and sat. "You'll feel human again soon." Lyra stayed by the fire. The shivering slowed. Her coat steamed in the heat. For the first time since the caravan left her, she was not dying. She let out a long breath. Then she looked around the room. The doors had shut behind her. Marcus sat in the corner, watching with yellow eyes. Reginald was gone. The windows showed only black storm and the far village lights, too distant to reach. She was warm. She was alive. And she was inside, with no way she knew back out. "Thank you," Lyra said. The words felt strange. "For not letting me freeze." Renee smiled. "Of course. You're my guest now." She folded her hands. "Reginald will show you your room. Rest. We'll talk in the morning." Lyra stood. Her clothes were drying. Her strength was coming back. But Reginald's sad shake of the head stayed in her mind. The old man had warned her without a word. Whatever this place was, he wanted out, and he could not leave. The storm had wanted to kill her. The manor only wanted to keep her. Lyra was not sure which was worse.