Two girls. Two secrets.
Only one can survive.
Years before Nelle Wychthorn plans her escape, Tabitha Catt may unearth something in a Horned God's lair that is the key to freedom.
Desperate to save her beloved aunt from a dark curse, Tabitha is out t...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The quickest way from here was to enter the mansion through the Servants' Hall and head straight to the servants' shortcut. I stuffed the slingshot and the empty jar back into the backpack. Sliding my arms through the shoulder straps and creeping back around the treeline, I was about to push off and run toward the Servants' Hall when a shadow stretched long as someone stepped out from the very room I needed to get through. A woman, dressed casually in trousers and a cozy flannel jacket, sauntered down the porch's few steps and onto the pebbled pathway.
Oh my gods...
I froze. My heart rapped a staccato beat in my chest.
It was Joann, smoking a cigarillo. She stood there for a moment, staring up at the fireworks display, soaking in the sounds of clapping and uproarious yells of delight drifting from the dance, one arm wrapped around her middle and the other hand lifting to her thin lips where she drew in a mouthful of smoke, held it, and then let it curl from her lips.
I pressed my bulky body back into the shadows the best I could. Why did I even bother with this getup? I didn't know. I was a terrible overthinker.
I was horribly conscious of time slipping away. I needed to get past Joann, but I wasn't sure what to do. I silently cursed her for wanting to avoid social contact and stay within the mansion and our quarters.
Suddenly, something from inside the hall had Joann jerking around, startled. Her face scrunched into curiosity, her head and upper body weaving as she tried to see what or who was inside the hall. She shifted over to the trash can set up outside, stubbed the burning end of the cigarillo out against the metal rim, and dropped it inside. She quickly padded up the steps, her gaze swinging wide as if trying to spot who had drawn her inside before she disappeared into the hall.
I gave her as long as I could. Time was moving fast, too fast, and I had to move on. I tippy-toed carefully out from under cover, breaking into a clumsy dash in my too-big shoes across the open lawn, up the stone steps to the porch, and made my way quietly inside the Servants' Hall.
The hall, much like the kitchen had been earlier, was eerie without life. It was rows upon rows of long wooden tables and empty chairs, and a ghostly silence cloaked the room like a shroud. Joann wasn't inside, but as I crept up to the door that led to the main corridor and peered around, I heard her speaking a short distance away around the corner of the next corridor, thankfully in the opposite direction of where I needed to head. Though I couldn't make out what Joann was saying, her voice and tone were formal, and whoever replied to her spoke in a low, male voice. Mr. Volkov...or maybe someone else with a higher rank? One of the Deniauds? One of the upper-ranking family members, perhaps? I couldn't make them out.
My gaze swung down the other end of this corridor, toward the next corner where a wooden door was situated—a shortcut that led to the upper levels. There was a network of servants' shortcuts throughout the mansion, and that one, in particular, would take me upstairs near the middle of the northern wing.
