“That’s Miss Stenchen. She owns this place.”
“Friendly.” Rowena dropped her spoon into the porridge and opted for an apple and a pastry instead.
Polly entered the room with a damp cloth, which she passed to Rowena.
“Oh, thank you, Polly.” Polly took a seat next to Rowena.
“How do you like the porridge?” Polly asked.
“Oh.” Rowena lifted the spoon which was almost standing up in the porridge.
“I cooked it,” Polly said as she jammed a spoonful into her mouth.
“It's lovely,” Rowena said as she forced more of the sticky substance into her mouth. She heard Jonathon laugh.
The sound of the double doors bursting open startled Rowena and almost made her choke on the thick stodge. A tall muscular man with long black hair entered the room. Rowena gasped and rubbed her eyes. Standing by his side, was a white wolf. The man’s dark eyes stared straight at Rowena. His mouth curled into a sly smile. He appeared to be happy to see her.
Chapter Six
Oakwoods Now
Brenna’s dream ended when a harsh banging roused her from sleep. She looked around the glowing motel room at the television, which was flashing a message demanding more money. The alarm clock next to the bed told her the time was seven-thirty in the morning. Too early for her liking.
She slid out of bed with a groan and made her way across the worn carpet. Sunlight poured in when she opened the door leading to the balcony and peered around the corner, looking for the source of the banging sound that woke her up. Nobody in sight, the sun shone brightly in a clear blue sky and the office appeared locked up. Puzzled, Brenna shut the door and went into the small bathroom that could have done with a clean, hopped into the shower hoping to wash away any lingering creepiness from the night before.
She dressed in a pair of faded jeans with a black t-shirt, grabbed her handbag and headed out the door with the box Maggie had given her, along with the wooden box from her Grandmother cradled under one arm. She fumbled with her car keys as she walked down the creaky steps and past the dark office.
Brenna couldn’t stop thinking about the dream she was having before she was awoken by the mysterious banging. The man in her dream seemed familiar to her, she was sure she had seen those dark eyes, that long black hair, and dark skin before. And that wolf. That was something else. Suddenly it hit her; he was the man she had seen standing in the desolate car park on the way to Oakwoods. Chills ran down her spine. She didn’t know what was going on but figured she might find out more when she reached her inherited cottage.
As she drove, her mind ticked over the last couple of days. How could she be experiencing such weird events and not be losing her mind? Perhaps she had lost it. Maybe she was actually locked up in a facility somewhere, ensnared in a straight jacket, babbling away to herself.
No. The fresh smell out here was real. Large trees lined the road, lacing the air with the scent of pine. She followed the paved road until it gradually turned into dirt and stopped at a large iron gate. She hopped out of the car and cursed like a drunk pirate. A rusty padlock secured the gateway. With both hands on the black bars, she shook the gate violently but it wouldn’t budge. She looked up, estimated the gate to be a few meters high, and sighed. The pointy black spikes at the top put her off climbing the fence, and besides, she didn’t want to leave her convertible alone outside. She huffed and stormed back to her car.
Staring at the gate from behind her steering wheel didn’t do much to help the situation. She hadn’t quite mastered her Jedi mind tricks yet.
She leaned over and rummaged on the passenger side floor for her drink bottle. Her hand happened upon the wooden box from her grandmother. An urge to open the box overcame her. She shrugged, and thought why the hell not? As she lifted the lid her eyes widened; a blue light spilled from the leather pouch. She picked up the pouch and turned it upside down. The most luminous round moonstone sphere landed in the middle of her palm. The blue light it emanated pulsed and cast a blue shadow on Brenna’s palm. She brought it close to her eyes to get a better look when a high-pitched squeak almost pierced her eardrums. She nearly dropped the stone as her eyes shot forward and watched in disbelief as the padlock on the gate fell to the ground and the heavy black gate opened as if an unseen hand was moving it. She put the mysterious stone back in the box and stared at the open gate. There didn’t seem to be a motorized panel or anything that could explain the gate opening by itself. She thought about turning the car around and going back home, but before she knew it, she was turning the key in the ignition and moving forward.
The gate groaned shut behind her. Baffled, Brenna decided to embrace the strangeness and followed the dirt path until she came to a dead end. She stopped the car and stepped out. Leaves and twigs crunched underfoot. The smell of damp soil and moss surrounded her. Each breath made her feel lighter like she was inhaling happy drugs. She dug her bag and the box out of the car and locked it with a bleep.
She walked past a couple of trees and found herself engulfed by forest almost straightaway. She turned around and could no longer see her car. It was like she’d fallen through a portal to a faraway land. Unfamiliar but enchanting chirps from unseen birds sounded from above. Branches snapped as she continued crunching her way through the thick carpet of fallen leaves and other assorted bits. The dirt path was no longer existent. Goddess knew the last time somebody had walked where she walked now. She wondered if the phone in her purse would have any signal and couldn’t help but shiver.
The serenity was broken by a feisty wind that picked up leaves and swirled them into the air. Brenna’s hair blew all around, obscuring her vision. All sound was drowned out by a ghostly chanting and her hair suddenly flew away from her face and shot out backward like a high-powered fan from a movie set had been aimed at her. She dropped the box, put her hands out in front of her face, shielding it from the gusty wind. The ghostly chanting became louder and the forest grew dark. She tried to follow the chanting but it seemed to be surrounding her, coming from all directions. Then she bent down, picked up the box, and ran through the trees with her hair whipping at her cheeks.
The chanting followed Brenna through the trees and stopped as she passed an ancient tree with a pentagram engraved into it. She stopped and turned back to the tree. She ran her finger over the carving of the five-pointed star and felt warm tingles buzz up and down her arms. It was the same carving Rowena had seen near Hawthorn’s cottage. She was sure of it.
She turned right and found the little cottage a few minutes later as if she’d been there a thousand times before. Just like in her dream, the cottage was covered in vines and tangled in an overgrown mass of ivy and wisterias, making it almost camouflaged in the dense forest.
A garden full of lavender, rosemary, and other useful plants and pretty flowers complemented the vines. It looked like the garden had been maintained beautifully, but to Brenna’s knowledge, nobody had been out here in over ten years. Roses climbed the old walls and the mixed scent of blooming flowers gave Brenna a feeling of déjà vu.
She walked up the cobbled path to the tiny doorway and marveled at the sight of two wicker chairs, covered in cobwebs, sitting outside the door. Brenna didn’t dare to sit on the fragile chairs, fearing they would crumble with the slightest touch.