32 Elle To Rise #2
Through the power of the sacrificed and the little will I have left to reach Liney—to finally set things right between us—I reach the top of the spiral. The basement. The entrance opens as easily as curtains in wind. Nothing compared to what I’ve done.
I stumble through the gateway into the basement when the whirlpool of tortured oil crashes against itself. Douglas holds his hands out as though he can catch me.
The souls wriggle out of me and into the air of the basement.
I need the wall for support without their help.
They’re bright, twinkling lights like fireflies as they disappear up and away.
I used to hope they were all bound for damnation anyway when I was sacrificing them.
Now I hope only for their peace, wherever they’re meant to go next.
“How will I tell her…?” I lose my momentum, breathing raggedly. I can feel her feet on the wood upstairs, moving around in a hurry. She’s still here. She stops, nearly on top of us, and another set of feet hurries to her.
I reunited them. One more tick in my good column.
“You must trust her,” Douglas says, standing beside the ladder. “And let her go.”
The small climb up the ladder nearly wipes me out. I flip open the trapdoor and flop onto the old wood boards of the main level. At least they didn’t move the chesterfield back.
I turn my head to where the feet were. My sister is clutching Bridget, both of them staring at me in horror. I could’ve never seen her again. Judging from the bags beside them on the floor, I wouldn’t have if I’d taken much longer.
I collapse on my back and raise my hands in peace. “I’m not here to kill you. The opposite.”
Douglas rises through the trapdoor’s hole and approaches them. Right. They all know one another now. That could make this easier. Would it have been this easy if she’d always known? Douglas as a bridge between us, not a tear?
The three speak in hushed tones, beyond my hearing. The voices turn harsher, sharper, louder, but I still can’t concentrate on the words.
“Liney,” I croak out. “Please.”
She approaches but keeps an arm’s length away.
“I’m sorry,” I say, squinting up at her. “It’s not enough. But I am. Everyone I killed. They helped save my life. They’re helping me right what I can.”
Liney’s eyes shine with tears. There’s conflict in her hands, in her shifting posture. One instinct to come closer, another to run.
“Bridget!” I call out, then regret it as my throat aches around the word. “I’m also sorry to you. For trying to kill you. Twice.”
She stands beside Liney. Their hands intertwine. “We can call it once and a half,” Bridget offers graciously.
Liney gulps and begins what she must’ve rehearsed already: “Elle, we’re going to—”
“You need to leave,” I interrupt. I want to stand, to show them the strength I can hold. Liney can leave me behind. “Now. I’m burning it to the ground. Everything.”
Liney kneels beside me, her mouth quivering. She holds one of my hands. My heart thumps all the harder. My sister. My sunshine. After all this, she can still touch me.
I never thought of Liney as capable. That was my folly. She may manage to truly escape this. “Listen to me carefully. Both of you.”
They kneel beside me now, though Bridget stays leaned back.
“You must send word to the authorities,” I instruct them. “Tell them what I did. Here. And at home. I’m sure you’ve put it all together. There are accounts in the paper. All of it’s true.”
Liney shakes her head, looking away from me. “That doesn’t—”
“Tell them to check the records of Mr. Croxton at the harbor society. And that he’s been cheating keepers out of pay. That he’s connected to Thomas. They plot together. You’ll have the inheritance back, with me unable to claim it. You can buy a lawyer. Liney—”
Something on the island changes. I can still feel it through the dark ocean’s siphon to me. Footsteps on the far side of the island, at the dock. Too many.
I glance at Douglas, his features equally alarmed.
“Someone’s here,” I whisper. “A boat. Against the dock. A group of them.”
While we played at demons and devils, they organized. I had the clues. Mr. Croxton came, both for his own gain and to find girls the right age hiding. Thomas’s reward. They worked together. Now they’re here to collect.
We could’ve left. Been half an ocean away, safe on a ship. If I’d not been selfish.
“We need to get you both off the island. Bridget, you must protect—”
“We’ll protect each other,” Liney promises, her grasp on my hand so strong I wince. When did she find this force?
“Hide in the woods. Wait for them to pass you. Then make your escape. Take my boat.”
Liney leans down and hugs me. I never thought she would again. I can’t grasp her back, but this embrace feels ours more than any before. No secrets. No sacrifices. No one else’s bidding.
And I’m letting her go.
“I love you, my little ghost,” I whisper, tears streaking down my face.
She chokes back her own sob at her nickname and squeezes me all the harder.
Bridget and Liney help me to my feet. Bridget grabs their bags while I instruct Liney on where to find our funds.
“I don’t need it,” I tell her despite her protests. I walk her to the door and shove the satchel into her hands. “This’ll help you both get a head start.”
“But—”
“Go to the authorities or go across the continent if you think they’ve been compromised. Follow your gut. I trust you. Promise me you’ll never return.”
The men have docked and tied their boat. Soon they’ll trek across the small forest. Their footfalls are ants crawling on my skin.
Liney nods, tears still falling freely from her eyes.
“Goodbye, Elle. Thank you,” she says. She squeezes my hand with hers. One quick squeeze. One last reach across the threshold that’s defined our lives here.
They leave the lighthouse together. I watch them until they reach the tree line, ducking into the underbrush. I close the door. Gather my breath. The kitchen knife—my true knife—sits on the counter.
“That wasn’t there before.” I shoot Douglas a questioning stare. He couldn’t possibly want me to use it.
“I don’t know what you mean,” he says, innocence playing across his face.
“I’ll disappoint you, James.” Though so much of me has transformed, the call of the knife still sings in my ears. “I don’t think I’m strong enough to resist hurting him if he’s among them.”
Douglas straightens, squares his shoulders. His gaze is distant. “The way I see it, you have a right to that one.”
“You want to see the bastard bleed as much as I do,” I tease.
Douglas suppresses a smirk. “I know you’re the one who can do it. And we need to give them the best shot at escape.”
I take the knife in my hand. There’s nothing demonic about it. A tool for gutting fish.
Douglas’s hand hovers over my own. His hand over my hand over the knife that once…
“I’ll scare the rest off,” he promises. “You sentence the brute, then meet me in the lightroom afterward. It’s been too long.”