Still, Clare’s mind continued to buzz. She ignored the food and crossed to the door as she pulled on her coat. The house felt strangely quiet. She paused on the hallway landing, squinting in each direction, trying to read the shadows that clung to the walls.
A door slammed, and Clare jolted. She clenched her teeth as she looked towards the stairs. The sound had come from the floor below.
It’s just Dorran. Probably.
She stepped back inside the bedroom. The fire poker rested beside the chairs, where she had left it the previous evening. Clare took it up and returned to the halls.
The stairs carried her downwards, and she moved carefully to keep her footsteps silent. The second floor was bitterly dark except for one hall: a single lit candle had been positioned on one of the tables clustered along the walls. There was no sign of Dorran. At the end of the hallway, a curtain blocked out the window. Some additional light would make her feel safer. She licked her lips, glancing into the twisting darkness behind her, then began edging towards the window.
“Dorran?” Her voice cracked, and she regretted the word as soon as it left her. It wasn’t wise to advertise her position in case something less friendly lurked in the halls.
Dorran rarely left her alone in the manor. She’d taken it for granted until that morning, but all of a sudden, Clare was aware of how vulnerable she was. She swung the metal bar at her side, her pulse harsh. The walls seemed to be closing in around her, squeezing.
She could return to her room. But that would still leave Dorran out in the house somewhere, in just as much danger as she was. Clare bit the inside of her cheek and moved to the window in three long steps. She grasped a handful of the material dampening the light and pulled it aside.
The ethereal white fields were obscured by ice crusting across the panes. Clare could faintly make out her own reflection. The candle glowed behind her, meagre and flickering as a gust of cold air blew across it. Something else moved in the reflection. A tall creature, stepping through a gap in the hallway walls, its bulging, hairless head tilting as it stared at Clare.
She gasped and swung, bringing the crowbar around as she turned. The metal whistled through the air but missed its mark as the figure ducked. Clare staggered with momentum, dropped the crowbar, and pressed her hand over her pounding heart. “Dorran!”
He pulled off the fencing mask, his eyes wild. They stared at each other for a second, then he broke into laughter. “I am so sorry, my dear. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Clare closed the distance between them and pressed her hands to his chest, checking he was really there. “I couldn’t see your face—I thought you were a hollow. I could have really hurt you—”
He lay his hands on top of hers as he smiled down. “I sometimes forget how fierce you can be. What are you doing outside of your room? Didn’t you see my note?”
She narrowed her eyes, relief barely tempering the frustration. “What am I doing out here? What about you?” Over his shoulder, she noticed an open door in the panelled wood. “Were you seriously going into the passageways alone?”
“I know you do not like them. I thought I could get ahead on the work and seal some of the doors near our room.” He shrugged. “It is safer now that I have the mask.”
“That doesn’t matter. We’re supposed to do this together. You should have at least woken me so I knew where you were going. Or written it on the note. Or something. What if you went missing? I wouldn’t even know where to look for you.”
No matter what she said, he refused to look chastised. A small smile curled over his mouth, and his dark eyes were filled with something Clare couldn’t quite pinpoint. She squinted at him, a challenge. “What?”
“You are so beautiful.”
She resented the way heat flowed over her face. “Don’t think you can sweet talk your way out of this.”
He laughed. His thumb grazed along her jaw, then he ducked in to steal a kiss. Clare was caught off guard but closed her eyes to savour the touch. Warm lips, nuanced and tender, explored hers. He made a faint, happy noise in the back of his throat, then his nose grazed her cheek as he reluctantly pulled away.
“Don’t think you can kiss your way out of this, either,” she mumbled, but the frustration had drained from her. It was hard to stay angry at Dorran when he was so intently affectionate.
“Of course not. I promise I am thoroughly repentant.” Dorran’s eyes were bright as he lightly pulled on her hand, leading her back towards the stairs. As he passed the open door, he nudged it closed, sealing off the dark cavern within.
“Did anything bother you?” Clare asked.
“No. No sign of anything.” He looked more relaxed than Clare could have felt if she’d been inside the passageways. “I managed to close three doors near our room, so as long as there are none that I missed, we will have bought ourselves a shade more protection. The creatures will have to travel through the main hallways if they wish to reach us.”
Clare had to admit it was a nice feeling. They didn’t have complete security, and probably wouldn’t for a while, but it was a relief to know she would at least see the hollows coming in that part of the house.
As they moved onto the stairs, Clare asked, “Did you want to keep on with the passageways? I can help this time. Beth will be calling in about an hour. Or we could have an early lunch and maybe spend some time in the garden.”
He stretched, flexing his back muscles. “Or we could visit the shed behind the property and look for our motor.”
“Really?” She hadn’t expected him to be so ready to step outside after the previous day.
“It is directly behind the house. Not far to walk. And not as risky as the forest.” He opened the door to their room and let Clare enter ahead of him. “If we are able to bring the motor inside, I can check it to make sure it will work. The weather is likely to stay erratic. We might have a limited window of time to reach your sister, and I want to be prepared.”
“All right. I’m game if you are.”
He found the untouched breakfast on the bedside table and pressed it into her hands. “Or… consider this. You could stay inside, where it’s warm, and keep lookout for me.”
She lifted her eyebrows.
Dorran sighed. “I knew it would not work. But you cannot blame me for trying. Very well, eat first, then we will make the trip while the sun is nearing its zenith and the weather is calm.”
Clare finished the breakfast in a hurry while Dorran marked his progress on the maps, folded them, and tucked them away in the drawers. Before they left the bedroom, Clare collected the radio. She wouldn’t let herself miss Beth’s call for a second day in a row. She checked the batteries were still good then tucked it under her arm as they went downstairs.
Her luggage waited in the foyer. Dorran had removed the food and locked it in their room, where it would be protected from any hollows roving the house. He’d left everything else, though, and Clare knelt to sort through the cases.
She had to laugh. The final morning in her old home had been so rushed that she’d barely paid attention to what she packed. The stash included shorts and blouses, which would be too light to keep her warm in Winterbourne. The day she left had been a mild autumn morning, she remembered, and her closet had still been full of thin, comfy clothes. But the bag also included shoes, which meant she would finally have some that fit her well, and underwear. She had never felt completely comfortable wearing another woman’s.