Page 110 of A Soul’s Awakening

A loud clatter from the direction of the manor made the group freeze in the shadow of a red-rosed briar.

The building was faintly illuminated by floating lights, and Helena squinted through the darkness at the source of the noise. She could see a figure curled over the garden, the sound of retching meeting her ears.

“I tide-damn swear, Declan. If this is some sort of trick, I will drown you,” Lance hissed.

“No tricks. He’s clearly vomiting,” the young man whispered savagely. “This is a good sign. The Seelie Court is gone, for now, and the Manor Guards are sick… just like I said they would be.”

Helena let out a long sigh. “Be quiet, both of you. Declan, take us to where we are meeting this next person.”

The group circumvented Tithe Manor, not getting too close until they reached the entrance they were taking into its foreboding presence. Declan steered them down a grey-stone staircase, taking them below ground level until they reached a solid wooden door at the bottom.

“The kitchen,” Declan breathed. “She will meet you in there and take you the rest of the way to your daughter.”

Helena, not daring to respond, nodded to show that she understood. Quickly, she pushed open the heavy door, just a crack. Emboldened, she swung it a little wider, enough to slip through. A loud creak had her grimacing as she stepped over the threshold onto the neatly polished tiles. Lance squeezed through behind her.

The kitchen itself was huge. The floor space was at least three times the size of their villa. It was sparkling clean and clearly well-organised. Drying herbs and garlic hung from mahogany beams that criss-crossed the high white ceiling. The whole area was dimly lit by warm, floating orbs of light.

Helena squinted through the gloom, her attention grabbed by a tall, thin figure. She was dressed in a full red skirt, her hair covered by a matching red scarf. The woman made her way over to the pair, completely silent as she did so.

Lance placed a hand on Helena’s shoulder and took a step forward. “That must be the next person, the one Declan said would meet us,” he murmured.

The red-skirted woman stopped three strides from the couple. “Come. I will take you to your daughter’s room. I will not show you the way back. You must remember the path we take to leave again.”

Helena nodded in agreement. “Thank you for helping us. This means more than you can possibly know.”

The woman looked down at her feet. “Three Tithes I have seen. Three Tithes I have been Governess. Not once has a parent come for their daughter. This is sad work I am indentured to do here at the manor, bound by a bargain. It is for selfish reasons I aid you, as it is mainly to ease my guilt. I promised myself a long time ago that if someone came for their child, I would help them.”

“Three Tithes?” Lance asked.

“My kind live a very long time, Merman,” the Governess replied, smoothing her skirt.

Lance cocked a puzzled look down to Helena, who shrugged in response.

“Please take us to my daughter.”

“I will. I have been tutoring her, Mrs Neycur. Eleanor is brilliant and truly a credit to you.” Without another word, the Governess turned, her skirt swirling as she spun.

Helena felt her face flush warmly at the compliment, but said nothing as she followed the silent woman, with Lance falling in behind her. They made their way up a set of stone stairs, dimly lit by more floating orbs. Back at ground level, the trio then climbed their way up a second, third, and fourth set of servant’s stairs, spiralling upwards all the way.

They emerged into a dimly lit corridor, Helena’s boots landing silently on the red plush carpet. She glanced from side to side. More floating orbs lined the hallway, alternating between detailed portraits of beautiful Fae nestled amongst the scarlet-and-gold-leaf wallpaper.

Helena squinted down the hallway into the dim light. She could vaguely make out rows of doors on either side of the corridor’s walls, bronzed doorknobs glinting in the orb light.

“At the very end, before the hallway splits into left and right, it is the last door on the left,” the Governess’ voice whispered into Helena’s ear.

She turned her head up to meet the woman’s face, but she was already gone. Helena glanced down the hallway again and she saw the flash of a red skirt whip to the left at the opposite end of the corridor. Her eyes widened in shock at the speed. She then looked up to Lance and gently nodded her head.

They made their way down the opulent passageway, their boots silent on the thick wall-to-wall carpet. Her pulse roared in her ears, loud and steady like festival drums. Her chest rose and fell in quick bursts as they approached. A few steps away from Eleanor’s door, Helena heard a stifled scream and heavy footsteps.

Lance’s eyes met her own and widened. “Quickly!” he hissed through clenched teeth.

Helena saw the silhouettes of seven bodies appear from the corner where the Governess had disappeared. One of the towering figures held a smaller body crushed against their chest.

“GET THEM!” one of the seven shouted.

Helena surged forward, reaching out. Her fingertips grazed the Dragon-head doorknob of Eleanor’s bedroom. She was wrenched away from it with an inhuman strength, and something snapped within her.

“El!” Heat surged through her veins, setting every nerve alight. Her limbs trembled, not with fear, but with venomous rage. “NO!”