Page 51 of Nightshade

“Well, now, how do you mean? I just described a number of very abnormal things.”

While strange, as she’d said, none of it sounded as outlandish as what I’d expected of this place, which left me hesitant to ask the question burning in my mind. “Do you see many winged creatures here, by chance? Perhaps … human-like?”

After staring for a moment, her already wrinkled face pinched tighter to a frown. In the next blink, she snapped into laughter. Hysterical laughter, as if such a thing were absurd in a place where I’d heard they walked freely.

Unless they didn’t walk as freely as I’d been told.

Unless she had as little awareness about them as I did.

“Seems you need your rest, miss. You must be quite tired, to ask about winged humans.”

“Yeah.” I smiled sheepishly. “You’re probably right. I appreciate you putting me up for the night.”

“Of course, dear. I’ll not let you wander around by yourself. The estate has far too many rooms that go unoccupied for a young girl like yourself to be sleeping in the woods.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

“Not too far now.” She nodded her head, and I shifted my gaze toward an ominous looking mountain ahead of us, most of which was hidden by a thick shield of fog. Perched on the peak of its treacherously-steep cliff stood an elaborate structure that reminded me of a cathedral--confirmed when Anya said, “Blackwater Cathedral. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

It was. Something about it called to my heart. “So strange. It feels familiar to me.”

“It’s belonged to the Van Croix’s for centuries. Lightning struck its belltower a number of years ago, and it--”

“Burned. To the ground.” The words arrived automatically, somehow.

“Yes. That’s correct. Seems you know a bit of our history here. In addition to the rumors.”

I didn’t, though. I had no idea what’d prompted me to answer so matter-of-factly, aside from the fact that I’d grown up playing in the ruins of an old church not far from our house, which my father told me had been burned due to lightning. A small bit of history that certainly wouldn’t have had anything to do with this world.

“Master Van Croix erected a new tower in its place,” Anya prattled on. “Of course, the interior of the cathedral is more of a living space, with rooms where the monks’ quarters once were.”

“It’s beautiful.”

The horse and carriage followed the path along the edge of the mountain, which overlooked water so dark and still, it appeared as black glass through the mist that hung on the air. A fearsome backdrop to the cathedral. Suddenly, Blackwater made sense.

Where rock meets sea.

Xhiphias had told me it was inevitable that I’d find it.

The moon sat high as a backdrop, a brightly glowing orb, bigger than I’d ever seen it before and reflecting across the water below like a dark mirror. Toward the west, through the fog, I could make out the dotted lights of a small town, or village, off in the distance.

I couldn’t say what I’d expected of Nightshade, perhaps a barren land of suffering and carnage, but it certainly wasn’t the enchantment of an old cathedral.

“It looks so peaceful.”

“Don’t let it fool you. When it storms, those waters turn furious.”

Higher and higher the carriage climbed alongside the mountain, until my fears kicked in and I could no longer peer over the edge. Instead, I kept my attention forward and breathed hard through my nose.

“Everything all right? You seem a little on edge?” Anya smiled beside me.

“I’m fine. Just a little tired, is all.”

“Of course, we’ll get you settled right in.”

Anya brought the carriage to a stop before an enormous black, wrought iron fence, housed within a stone arc tunnel. Cast iron spearheads stuck up from the top of it, and at either side sat a stony gargoyle perched high on concrete pillars. Without prompting, the gates parted on a creaking sound, as if by their own will. Frowning, I examined the entrance as we passed, looking for any gears, or cranks, that would explain its movement, without her having pressed a button, but I found nothing. Once through, I leaned to the side, looking around the edge of the carriage to see them close on their own, as well.

Another snap of the reins, and the horse plodded along the long and winding drive toward where the cathedral stood in the distance. Outside of the few gas lamps that lined the stony path ahead, silvery bands of moonlight illuminated nearby hedges that seemed intentionally arranged around vine-covered stone arches. A soaring bell tower had me sitting forward in my seat to catch a glimpse of the enormous clock face sat below the iron bell at its peak. To the left, at the break of a long hedge, a lantern hung from the bracket on a pole, marking the entrance to a maze within. Mossy coated statues of warrior angels stood about the yard, hidden within browning, frost-ravaged gardens, surrounded in a magnificent splendor of decay.