Chapter Thirty-Nine
Lilith
Lilith stepped instinctively back from the man in the entryway of Brackenmere Manor, the man who would kill Sybil. Nausea
churned in Lilith’s belly, that awful sense of being sucked into one of her dreams.
Her thoughts swam as the room darkened around the edges.
She clenched her hands into fists. She would not faint, not now.
A nudge at her shin made her look down to where Dragon swept figure eights around her legs. The action broke her gaze from
the man, giving her a chance to breathe.
Restored, Lilith looked up as the scene played out in front of her, the birthmark at her arm practically burning as if shouting.
This. She needed to see this.
And Lilith saw it all: Sybil alone with the man in black, the magistrate, how intimately he pressed her until the dagger in her pocket finally made him back away. How the guards were abruptly called into the room and pulled Sybil’s hands forward to clasp in iron manacles.
The weight of those rasping manacles tugged at Lilith’s own wrists.
All at once, a subtle glow around Sybil that Lilith hadn’t noticed before winked out.
Jacinda was there, crying out in protest. The maids went to her, struggling to hold her back at Sybil’s insistence.
Her gaze found Lilith’s, those hazel depths filled with horror, with pleading. And though the other woman did not speak, Lilith
heard the words clearly in her mind.
Save her.
The door slammed closed, and silence descended, stark with shock and fear.
A brown-haired maid named Anne led Jacinda upstairs.
The room flickered, like Lilith’s brain was short-circuiting between the past and the present.
The past came back clear once more, and Lilith followed, stopping before a door where muffled sobs were rife with a heartbreak
that echoed in Lilith’s soul.
She knew the chasm loss opened inside a person, a yawning gap that couldn’t be filled. She’d experienced that pain when Daddy
died.
Unable to stay away, she entered the bedroom, plush with blue velvet curtains framing the bed and a richly polished wardrobe
and vanity. A bird sat on a stand near the window, its black eyes drilling into Lilith.
The past dimmed away and the present rose to the forefront, revealing a different four-poster bed, one that sank into itself,
posts crookedly leaning to the center while the remnants of a mattress drooped to the floor.
Jacinda was a filmy apparition as she wept into a pillow at its center, back shuddering with the force of her sobs.
A metal bracelet sat heavy and dull on the small table beside her bed.
Another flicker of Lilith’s vision and a dull pain bloomed behind her eyes.
The past came into focus once more and Jacinda sat up, swollen tear-stained eyes fixed on Lilith. “You knew this was going
to happen.”
Lilith nodded, knowing she had been lured to the manor for help before even anyone knew help was needed.
“How do I recognize you?” Jacinda bit her lip. “I’ve seen you…” She shook her head as though trying to clear it. “Like in
a dream remembered out of order.”
“I’m Lilith and I have spoken with you before.” Lilith hesitated, knowing how strange her words were. “I keep seeing the same
day over and over, as if I’m meant to notice something.”
“From your past,” Jacinda whispered. “In my present.”
Lilith nodded and was relieved when Jacinda seemed to be considering this idea rather than rejecting it.
“Did you find what was in the library?” Jacinda asked abruptly, clearly beginning to remember.
“The secret room?”
“A secret room…?” Jacinda said softly to herself. “That’s what she’s been hiding.”
Dragon batted at the base of the bird’s stand and those glittering dark eyes slid down to the small black cat. Lilith scooped
him up.
Ghost or not, she wasn’t taking any chances.
“You think Sybil will be burned alive at the stake?” Jacinda’s voice wobbled and Lilith kicked herself for her frankness on
their last meeting.
Helplessness built up with uncomfortable pressure in the back of Lilith’s throat. “I don’t know. I think I’m supposed to stop
it, but I don’t know how.”
Jacinda tilted her head at Lilith. “You were there when she was arrested. What was said?”
Lilith explained what she’d seen, how the magistrate lorded over Sybil, how she’d remained strong. The poppet that condemned
her.
“That’s it.” Jacinda sat up straighter. “The poppet. The only one who could have turned it in would be someone within the
household. Someone here at the manor denounced her. If we can find out who…”
A flare of heat blazed at Lilith’s birthmark. She hissed and put her hand over it. “I think you’re on the right track.”
Jacinda’s gaze followed Lilith’s actions and her brows pursed.
“Maybe something in the book will help,” Lilith said, more to herself than Jacinda.
“What book?”
“The grimoire.”
Jacinda shook her head in confusion.
“I’ll show you.” Lilith waved for Jacinda to follow.
The ache in Lilith’s head was impossible to ignore, like her brain was trying to squeeze out from her skull.
Together, they went into the library with Dragon trotting after them. “There’s a lever here.” Lilith moved the books aside
and pulled the bar set in the bookshelf. The trap door drew back, and Jacinda gasped.
“The room is in here.” Lilith ducked into the secret room, but when the candles lit upon her entry, Jacinda was not there.
“Jacinda?” Lilith went out into the library, but the teen was gone.
Likewise, the past had faded once more, revealing only the dusty, dilapidated room and Dragon, who sat by himself, his tail
coiled perfectly around his four paws.
“Where did they go?” Lilith asked.
He gave a little chirp and ran into the secret room.
Alone and more determined than ever, Lilith followed. The candles flickered to life and the sweet scent of those eternal flowers greeted her with an ineffable fragrance that hovered between floral and herb—that fused real life with something otherworldly and coiled into her soul.
A golden glow framed the grimoire, the words shimmering as she approached. Had it been that way last time?
She unfurled her hand from the necklace pouch, the pink velvet crushed into the shape of her curled fist, and read the page
before her, a different location than before.
The more you know yourself, the more guidance you will receive from the earth.
A groan escaped Lilith. Because she had never known herself. She’d always been a chameleon, trying to fit in, but always somehow
altering to the wrong environment, so she stuck out.
She put a fingertip to the page in an effort to turn it. The page stuck fast.
Embedding her fingernail between two pages midway through the book, she tried again. The pages clung together as if glued.
Apparently, this was the entry she needed to read.