Part 13

Whenever she woke, her memories of the river seemed dull and fuzzy. It would've been easy to convince herself it had all been a nightmare. Like the ones she'd had of Ardon. But the stinging cut on her forehead and the dampness of her clothing reminded her otherwise. She internally flinched a little, unsure she would ever forget how she had nearly killed Ronan. At the thought of his name, she remembered the way he had looked at her before she had fallen asleep, the solid way he had felt beneath her fingertips.

She could see him outside the shallow cave, and her stomach fumbled a little when she realized he was without a shirt, crouching near the pool of water. A scowl formed on her lips, realizing how long she'd been standing there immobile, looking. She was being incredibly stupid. She was above that, was she not?

Zara stood, her limbs cracking and popping as she stretched. She grabbed her cloak and stepped out into the yellow sunlight. The sky above looked clear, as if the storm had never happened. She tossed her cloak onto a nearby rock, hoping it would dry quickly.

"We shouldn't linger," she said, avoiding looking at Ronan as she kneeled down near the water to splash some if its coolness on her face.

"Sun'll be going down in a few hours. If we leave within the hour, we'll make it before dark," Ronan suggested, and she could feel his eyes on her.

She made the mistake of lifting her eyes to meet his. His skin was tanned from being in the sun, stretched over his broad shoulders and chest. Soft dark curls of hair trailed a path down his chest, across his belly, until it disappeared under the waistline of his pants. She'd known he was handsome from the day he'd first shown up in the tavern back in Whitehaven. She'd just never cared before now, and that annoyed her to no end.

She hastily looked away, back towards the water. "Sounds fine." She sat back on her heels and titled her head, letting the sun warm her face. She could feel Ronan still watching her though and opened her eyes to give him a questioning look. "What?"

"Once we get the Finder's Glass, we're headed right towards Ardon."

Zara caught his meaning without him having to say it. "Nothing has changed. I'm not going to abandon you just because there's a mark on my back," she answered, remembering all too well the soft words he had spoken to her earlier. Whether what he had said was truthful or not, she couldn't let Gray's death continue to control her. Ardon seemed keen on using that to get under her skin. She arched an eyebrow. "I can't guarantee it won't get us into more trouble."

"I've known you were trouble from the moment I met you," Ronan teased and Zara rolled her eyes in response. "We'll just have to be more careful than ever from now on. Move more quickly."

She nodded. "Hopefully we won't have as much trouble in Wintercliff as we did in Maran."

"Do you think the siren was telling the truth? About the banshee?" Ronan asked, and she glanced up in time to see him grabbing his shirt where it had been drying and pull it on over his head. He tugged it over his abdomen and Zara felt relief she'd no longer have to resist the temptation to look.

"Who knows if she was telling the truth about anything?" Zara shrugged. "But, I have faced a handful of banshees before."

Ronan raised both eyebrows. "I thought you couldn't kill them. Aren't they already dead?"

A tiny smug smile tugged at her lips. "You can't. You just cut off their head and that slows them down enough to get away."

"Charming," Ronan said dryly.

Zara hummed a low response and sat back against the rock cliff, watching as the sun sank lower in the sky. Despite the heat, she felt a cold prickle of dread begin at the base of her spine and travel up to her neck. Her stomach tightened, not at the thought of the banshee, but of what would come afterward.

She wouldn't admit it to Ronan, but she was fearful of getting purposely close to Ardon. It seemed no matter which way she turned, troubled lay ahead for both her and Ronan and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

They ate a quick meal and repacked their belongings. Zara's cloak was still damp from the rain, but she swept it across her shoulders anyways and pulled the hood over her hair. It was with trepidation that they moved on to Wintercliff.

#

The sun was setting by the time they reached the old kingdom. The town was surrounded by a moat of stagnant, dingy water that smelled of rot and musk. The drawbridge was still down, the wood soft and deteriorated and leaving gaping holes in some places that peered down into the dark water below. The quiet was unnerving. There was a strange stillness in the air that made Zara's dread more pronounced. She drew her sword before they even crossed the bridge and Ronan looked at her questioningly.

She merely shrugged in response. He waited a moment before pulling his sword as well.

The bridge creaked beneath their footfalls as Zara carefully tested each step, not eager to fall through to the water. She hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until they were safely across and on solid ground. They walked through the towering stone arch into a city that once had been as full of sounds and life as Whitehaven or Vallan. The iron gate had been raised, having Zara believe it was almost entirely too easy. Yet the city had been abandoned for over four decades, since the beginning of the first war. It was in better shape than Maran had been. She reminded herself, though, that Maran had been taking by force. Wintercliff had been willingly abandoned, given to the wolves that threatened to take what was never theirs.

Shops lined the streets, windows dusty and wooden signs inviting patrons inside still hung over doorways. An empty marble fountain stood dry and empty some distance away. Zara realized, with a suppressed chill, that the angelic statue in the center had seemed to have lost its head at some point. Zara craned her neck to see two faded, purple flags hanging ragged over their heads, the coat of arms associated with Wintercliff just barely visible in gold thread.

Slated roofs sagged inwards, as if an invisible giant were sitting on top of them. Nature had started to reclaim the town, grass jutting up between cobble stones and tall weeds pressed against the sides of buildings. Silently, they moved further into the ghostly town. Ronan stepped closer to one of the dusty shops and pressed his palm against the lopsided wooden door. It creaked open ominously and they peered inside. In the waning sunlight, there wasn't much to see. Looking over Ronan's shoulder, Zara felt an eerie coldness wash over her. The dinner table was still set, cobwebby plates and goblets laid out. In the corner was an old wooden crib, moth eaten blanket spilling out from inside.

She pushed past Ronan and looked into the crib, feeling apprehensive as if she might see the skeletal remains of an infant inside. Instead, it was empty aside from a sad looking straw doll tucked into the corner. Zara reached for it brushing off the dust. It's dress, which once must have been the color of a cloudless blue sky, was gray. She couldn't help but wonder what had happened to the child who once had owned the doll. Had they made it to safety? Or had they been struck down before ever reaching their next haven?

Zara cleared her throat suddenly and set the doll back down, no longer wishing to think about the imaginary child. Ronan was flipping through the pages of a yellowed, dusty book.

"Where should we start?" he asked, shutting the book and causing a puff of dust to take shape in the air before settling back down on the counter.

"The castle," she said confidently.

Ronan looked unsure. "How do you know?"

"I don't really, it just seems the most likely. Plus, banshees quite like castles. Towers and dungeons especially," she told him, stepping out of the house and into the cool air. The light was waning. The idea of exploring the abandoned castle in the night was not ideal, but she didn't want to wait until morning. As soon as they got what they came for and left, the better.

She knew castles and churches tended to be an inviting place for many of the supernatural creatures she had learned of during both her time as a child and a Red Cape. She highly doubted the banshee wasn't the only thing hiding somewhere inside the high stone walls. That would just be entirely too lucky.

"You know more than me, it would seem," Ronan said, falling into step with her.

"As per usual." Zara couldn't resist. She met Ronan's raised eyebrow expression with a smirk that disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared.

Their footsteps echoed on the cobblestone path as they walked through the silent kingdom. She kept waiting for some shadow to creep across the edge of her vision, for an inhuman whisper to breathe into her ear. All was still, though, which only added to her paranoia. Ahead of them, the castle's high towers protruded into the night sky like stone claws. Vines and plant life wound its way around the dirty stone walls. She again imagined the castle in its prime, with walls shining in the sun and vividly colored flags waving from the windows and the high oak doorway.

It seemed huge, looming over the rest of the town. A proper search, Zara realized, could take days. Days they did not have. They paused at the threshold of the castle's ominous front door, the wood splintered and decayed. Ronan stepped forward and pressed his shoulder to the door, letting out a grunt of exertion as he pushed it open. Like the door of the cottage, it squealed on its rusted hinges, only the sound seemed an endless echo bounding off the entrance hall inside.

"Ready?" Ronan asked, glancing over his shoulders.

Tight-lipped, Zara nodded. "Let's get this over with."

She stepped inside the castle and was enveloped by dark and dampness. She wished they had two of the thieves' wick lanterns, though she knew her eyes were most likely slightly more keen than Ronan's when it came to seeing in the dark. Soon what sunlight they had would be gone completely.

Her eyes flickered, taking in their surroundings as they walked. Large, impressive paintings hung on the walls. Decorative silks were draped across the high ceilings. Lavish plush chairs sat dusty and unused. A vase with wilted, long-dead flowers sat on a wooden table just inside the threshold.

"Towers or dungeon first?" Ronan asked.

Zara pursed her lips thoughtfully. She would have preferred the tower, but creeping around the dungeons as the night grew long seemed uninviting. "Let's take the dungeon first. Get that out of the way."

Ronan let out a little sigh that told her he wasn't any more eager than she was. They crept around the castle, trying to find the doorway to that led to the dungeon. They passed through a large, impressive dining hall where silver plates and goblets still sat and cobwebs hung from the massive, unlit chandeliers. A lonely throne stood sat at the front of the hall.

There was a stout wooden door hidden in an alcove near the front of the room, with a half moon shaped window with iron bars. Zara pulled the door open and was hit with the cool, musty air of an underground. Stone steps wound downwards into pitch blackness. Her grip on her sword grew tighter as she gestured for Ronan to lead the way, letting him guide her since he was the one with the thieves' wick lantern.

"How will we know we've found a banshee?"

"The crying, screaming woman running at you should make it fairly obvious. Although I hope we find her first," Zara mused.

"That's a pleasant visual,"

She ignored him, blinking as her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. Even still, it was hard to make out much besides shadowy shapes. To the right, she could see a wall lined with barred doors, iron cages meant for criminals. A pungent scent hung in the air. Who knew how many had lost their lives down there, either tortured or starved to death, or via an execution? She suppressed a shiver.

Ronan suddenly stopped in his tracks and Zara halted behind him, her heart immediately launching into her throat. She gripped his forearm with her free hand, pushing him aside so they were standing next to one another. "What? What is it?" She strained her eyes but couldn't see a thing.

"Listen," he breathed.

At first, it was so quiet she almost didn't hear it. A slow shuffling sound, as if something were being dragged across the dungeon floor. Shuffle, shuffle, pause, shuffle, shuffle, pause. Then, a low inhuman cackle that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

"What is that?" she whispered, her fingers still digging into Ronan's arm although he didn't seem to notice. She hastily dropped her hand. "It sounds like-"

"A ghoul." Ronan finished for her in a tight voice.

It was as if an icicle had been plunged into her chest. Out of the many creatures she had faced throughout all her years wandering the forest, ghouls were one of few that terrified her to no end. Legend had it all ghouls had once been humans. Humans with a very specific taste for human flesh.

"Pass me the light," Zara ordered. She expected Ronan to argue, but instead he handed it over. She was immediately basked in its yellow glow. Her sword in one hand, light in the other, she went against every fiber of her being and stepped further into the dungeon. She heard Ronan say her name in a low, warning voice but she shushed him. There was suddenly a scuttling sound and she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Then, something skid across the floor and landed at her feet. She looked down and swallowed. A human skull. "Ronan, start walking very slowly back towards the staircase. Do not run."

She took a step back herself, heart racing and fear prickling her skin. Another step back, her palms slick with sweat. The shuffling sound came again, much closer. Then, a pair of yellow eyes peered out at her from the end of the darkened corridor. "Faster, Ronan."

"A little hard to see where I'm going," Ronan quipped.

The creature moved closer until it edged enough into the light. Zara suppressed panic. It was a ghoul, covered in sickly yellow flesh. The skin stretched tightly over its skull and it grinned at her tauntingly, revealing rows of jagged teeth. It took a step forwards, on all fours. It took Zara a moment to realize it was dragging an animal, a wolf maybe, in one hand and streaking the dungeon floor with blood.

"Now we can run," Zara said in a shaky voice.

"What?" Ronan asked from somewhere behind her.

She tore her eyes away from the ghoul and whipped around, grabbing Ronan's sleeve in her hand and dragging him towards the stairs. "I said run!"

They barreled back up the steps and the high pitched cackle of the creature in the dungeon echoed after them. Its sharp claws clicked and clacked against the stones. It was chasing them.