Chapter 71

Ruby

I’m not sure when I fall asleep in Atwood’s study, but at some point during the night I feel myself being gently lifted out of the plush armchair that I was reading in and being carried to my room. I don’t need to open my eyes to know that it’s Atwood who is carrying me; his scent fills my body with warmth and his strong arms hold me tightly against his chest.

He lays me down in my bed and gently pulls the covers up around me, then plants a soft kiss on my forehead and quietly leaves the room. I find it a little strange that he still isn’t sleeping in the same bed as me now that we’ve marked each other, but it doesn’t worry me anymore like it used to. Perhaps he’s simply busy or not ready to share a bed yet. Truthfully, I’m not sure if I’m completely ready, either.

My dreams aren’t nearly as vivid as they were before, which only further leads me to believe that that “dream” I had wasn’t a dream at all, but rather some sort of vision or prophecy.

You are so much more than you realize… The fate of the three kingdoms lies on your shoulders…

The unknown woman’s voice echoes in my head as I wake in the morning, spurring me on to work hard to get to the bottom of the curse before it’s too late.

I quickly get dressed in the morning and run over to Tamara’s room, where she and Nancy have taken up residence since the infirmary needed space. Tamara seems to be much better and is happily playing with her stuffed rabbit when I enter. Nancy sits in the window, still in her pajamas, as she looks out at the snowy landscape.

“How are you feeling, Nancy?” I ask as I approach.

She turns to me and smiles, sticking out her cast-free leg and wiggling her toes. “The doctor took my cast off yesterday. One of my favorite perks of being a werewolf is the short recovery times.”

“Good,” I say with a smile. “Does that mean you might be interested in a bit of an adventure today?”

Nancy frowns. “Please don’t tell me you want to go and get into trouble again,” she says.

“Don’t be mad at me,” I reply, “But I need to get to the bottom of this curse. I think that Marisa Elder knew things.”

“We can’t go back there!” Nancy says frantically, standing up from her window seat.

“You don’t have to come,” I say, squeezing my friend’s shoulder. “Only if you want to. I’ll only go for an hour at the most.”

Nancy grumbles to herself and storms over to her suitcase. She rifles through it and pulls out her snowsuit. “Of course I’m not going to let you go alone,” she says grumpily. “But only an hour! Promise!”

“I pinky promise,” I respond with a smile, holding out my pinky.

Nancy and I leave under the guise of going for a walk -- which isn’t entirely a lie -- and start heading toward Marisa Elder’s hut. The snow has turned into ice in some patches due to the cold, so it’s a difficult trek, but we eventually make it.

“I really don’t wanna go in there,” Nancy whispers as we approach the house. “I don’t wanna see a dead body again.”

“I know,” I answer. “Trust me, I don’t either. That’s why we’ll be quick.”

The door is still unlocked, but when we enter, things are different. It’s much more still now; the birdcages have been opened and all of the birds are gone, the smell of incense has dissipated, and…

Marisa’s body is gone.

It’s as though she just ran out on some errands and never returned.

“Where is her body?” Nancy asks in a nervous whisper.

It’s much darker in here now. Someone has turned off the lights. I pull a small flashlight out of my pocket and flick it on, scanning the house. Her body really has just vanished. No blood, nothing. It’s just gone.

Someone came and cleaned up the crime scene. Was that very person here when we last visited? Were they hiding, watching us?

“Okay,” I say quietly, “let’s just look around and get out of here.”

Nancy nods. We split up and start opening drawers and cabinets, checking under furniture, even checking coat pockets in her closet.

As I’m about to call it quits, Nancy comes scurrying in from the other room. She has a bundle of papers in her hand and holds it out to me.

“I think they’re letters!” she says.

I take the bundle from her hands and shine the flashlight on it to read it.

“From V,” the first letter says at the end.

“‘V’ must be Vivian,” I say, looking up at Nancy excitedly.

But her eyes are fixed on the window. I follow her gaze to see what she’s seeing; two men are walking toward the house. They’re in human form, but I can sense it. They’re Bears.

I quickly shut off the flashlight and grab Nancy’s hand, bolting into a closet and quietly shutting the door. Nancy puts her hands over her mouth to quiet her breathing and looks at me with wide, frightened eyes. I gulp and peer through the slats on the closet.

The front door opens in the other room.

“Seems empty,” one of the men says.

There are several long moments of silence. For a second I wonder if they’ve turned around and left, but then the other man speaks.

“You smell that?”

“Smell what?”

“Smells like… Lycan.”

Another silence. Footsteps approach the bedroom.

“Max, this whole place stinks like Lycan,” the first man says.

“Nah,” the man named Max says. “This smells fresh.”

The second man enters the bedroom, slowly creaking the door open. I reach out and grasp Nancy’s hand tightly.

The man walks around the room, sniffing the air. I can see his glowing green eyes through the door, which makes me realize -- can he see mine? I shut my eyes tightly, leaving me with nothing but my hearing.

The footsteps come closer. So close, in fact, that I expect him to open the closet door at any moment and yank us out of here.

But he doesn’t.

“C’mon, Max, the boss is gonna kill us if we don’t hurry up!” the other man says.

The footsteps recede. I open my eyes and look at Nancy, who simply nods knowingly.

We wait for a painstakingly long time, in case the men are still here.

But then, the smell of smoke fills my senses.

The men have set fire to the house!

Without thinking, Nancy and I barge out of the closet, coughing from the smoke, and make our way toward the front door. The door is blocked by flames that have already begun to lick up the walls.

“The window!” I say between coughs, pulling Nancy toward the kitchen. I yank the window above the kitchen sink open and gesture for Nancy to climb through, giving her a step up with my fingers clasped together. She just barely squeezes through the small window, tearing her snowsuit on the way.

The flames are coming closer and the entire house is filled with smoke now. I can barely see through the thick smoke, and every breath burns. The gas stove in the corner catches my eye… If the flames make it to the stove, the whole house will explode.

Nancy reaches through the window for me. I clamber up onto the sink and grab her hands.

“Oh, thank god!” she says as she pulls me through the window. I fall onto the porch, hurting my wrist, but my adrenaline is pumping too much to care for the pain right now. We both sprint away from the house as it becomes enveloped in flames.

We just barely manage to get far enough away when the very thing that I feared happens: the house explodes. We fall to the ground, coughing and covering our heads as flaming debris falls all around us.

“Ruby Jones!” Nancy says once the coast is clear, scrambling to her feet. “I sure hope that was worth it for you!” she says with a cough. Her face is covered in soot and her poor snowsuit is completely destroyed.

I sit up and wipe the sweat away from my forehead with the back of my hand.

I hold up my other hand, still clutching the bundle of letters. Nancy smirks, then before I know it, we’re both laughing so hard that our bellies ache.

We return to the castle and slip in without being noticed, running to our rooms to shower and dispose of our soot-covered clothes. After cleaning myself up, I stuff the letters under my mattress and fall onto the bed with a relieved sigh.

Before I have a chance to relax completely, there’s a knock at my door.

“Come in!” I shout, sitting up.

It’s Atwood. He enters with a tray in his hand.

“Are you hungry?” he says, holding the tray up. There are two peanut butter sandwiches and two glasses of milk on the tray. I can’t explain it, but there’s something adorable about him standing in my doorway, holding the sandwiches.

I nod and he comes over to sit with me, setting the tray on the bed.

“Hm,” he says, sniffing the air as he takes a bite of his sandwich. “You smell that? Smells like smoke.”

My heart races as I think about the pile of sooty clothes that I stuffed in the closet.

I shake my head.

“I don’t smell anything.”

Atwood shrugs. “Oh, well,” he says. “Must just be in my head.”

We eat together peacefully, making small talk, but all I can think about are the letters. Should I tell Atwood, or try to figure it out on my own? He seems more calm and collected now that his condition has been cured, but something is telling me to keep it to myself for now. I worry that he’ll still become upset that I put myself and Nancy in danger to find these clues, and what’s even worse is that he’ll just become worried. After everything that’s happened, I don’t want Atwood to worry about me.

When I finally get the chance to read these letters, I’m going to figure out how to end this curse once and for all.