shadows and stones - an original fiction series of gothic, horror, dark fantasy

“Eva?”

I start at the sound of Rath calling me. It’s a guilty reaction – I didn’t expected to see him home this soon. He’s supposed to be somewhere out on the property checking damage caused by a recent storm, not here on the main staircase talking to me.

“Yes, Rath?” I try to erase any trace of nervousness from my expression.

Ascending the stairs in only a few strides, Rath comes to stand by me. He doesn’t seem upset or angry, but I feel tense, trapped by his presence. Dammit, if I’d been just a little faster returning to my rooms, he never would have seen me. Trying to be casual, I lean on the banister and wait for him to continue.

“Is everything all right, Eva? You’ve been distant lately, distracted. Even Melanie has noticed.” Concern is evident in his voice and face, deepening my nervousness.

I hate this. I’ve never been good at lying, but I can’t tell Rath about my frustrating search for Iain’s ashes. Rath’s made no secret of his intense dislike for vampires. Despite his promise to not interfere in my life, I know he’d try to stop me if I told him what I’m up to. Falling back on an old standard excuse, I try to cover the truth.

“I’m sorry, Rath, it’s nothing personal. Really. The holidays made me miss Mama again is all. We always had so much fun at Christmas and New Year. Now her birthday is coming up next month and, well, you know how it is for me.” I throw him my best mischievous grin, hoping it doesn’t look too fake.

“Besides, you ought to know how moody we women can get. What with our female stuff and all. It’s just that time for me, I guess.” Actually my female problems have been noticeably absent since I awoke as a shapeshifter. In the past, the altitude shift caused by riding a ferris wheel has been known to make me skip several months, so I haven’t been too bothered, but I should probably talk to Ursula about it one day–a year-and-a-half is a bit long.

I presume in the two thousand plus years Rath’s been alive he’s had plenty of time to learn about female internal workings. When he gives me a look of surprise and suspicion my stomach clenches. In spite of the explanation’s plausibility, he doesn’t believe me. Fine, let him doubt then. There’s no way he can prove otherwise. For a second, it looks as though Rath plans to say something more, but he stays silent.

“I appreciate the concern, Rath, really I do. But I’m fine. I’ll try not to keep it all inside so much. You don’t need to worry about me though, I promise.” I throw him the brightest smile I can manage. He, on the other hand, has now become almost impossible to read.

“If that was all you wanted,” I continue, “I’m gonna go now, I desperately need a shower.” I’m anxious to get away before Rath questions my condition. Dust from my latest foray into one of the attics covers every inch of me. Had I found what I was looking for – Iain’s ashes – the filth would have been worth it.

“Indeed.” My God, he can load a lot of meaning into a single word. Choosing to take the comment as a dismissal I start towards my rooms.

“Two more things, Eva.” Freezing all motion, my hand rests, clammy on the banister. Slowly I turn my attention back to him. “Be careful in the attics. Unlike the other unused rooms of the house, those have not been cleaned or organized in decades. They could be dangerous. And come down once in a while to join us for tea. While I realize you are not without companionship in your rooms, you might find conversation with other individuals a pleasant change of pace.”

Locked in place by Rath’s words, I stare as he goes back down the stairs, heading towards his office. How long, I wonder, has he known of my excursions? How long has he known of Iain’s head in my room and left it unmentioned? Probably from the beginning, my conscience answers. I race to my room, but I can’t out-race the truth.

While I should talk to Iain immediately to share the latest news of my search, I can’t face spending another moment covered in filth like this. Showering has psychological benefits as well; I envision myself washing away the guilt from my confrontation with Rath, picturing it as a grey swirl slipping down the drain. I wish I could tell him what I’m doing, and enlist his help, but the image of his demonic face when he destroyed Iain won’t leave my mind, preventing me from trusting him. Though I scrub for a long time in the shower, I don’t feel completely clean.

Wearing only a towel, I make sure the draperies are blocking all traces of sunlight before going to Iain’s hiding place and releasing the door. Light from the lamps illuminates his pale skin making it glow in the dark hideaway. His eyes are closed.

“Iain, are you asleep?” Several hours remain before sunset, but I want to share the news about Rath right away.

“No.” His voice sounds strange, rough. Sleepiness, I suppose. Gently I lift him from the hideaway, carrying him to the old armchair. I prop him as comfortably as possible on the cushion, then seat myself on the floor. To my annoyance, Iain still doesn’t open his eyes. This isn’t the first time he’s acted this way in the past few weeks, but he seems fine so I ignore the behavior for now.

“I searched the next-to-last attic today. It was full to the top with wooden crates and trunks. Some of them must be over a hundred years old. The dust was so thick on them I didn’t bother to open them since they were obviously undisturbed, but I was really tempted. One day we’ll have to go back and explore. There must be lots of interesting stuff.”

“Eva …”

“I managed to rummage through Hannah’s room a little as well, though I really doubt Rath would store anything near her. All I found were children’s story books, flowers and a wardrobe full of old clothes. I suppose it doesn’t make sense to buy her anything new when she only goes outside to sit in the sun. Not that Rath is stingy with her, though.”

“Eva…”

“Speaking of Rath, he caught up to me on the way back here tonight.”

“Eva…”

“He knows I’ve been searching the attics and the spare rooms. He even….”

“EVA!”

I knew ignoring Iain would force him to open his eyes and pay attention. Smiling, I wait for him to say more, but he’s silent, his expression stony. My smile fades as I really look at him. His eyes have grown dull – the color faded like an old photo. Though always pale, his skin now has an ashen tinge to it. Not even a hint of his old, goofy grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. These changes haven’t happened overnight. I realize I’ve been ignoring what I’ve been seeing: I realize that he has given up.

“Iain, I’ll find your ashes. Remember this is a huge house, and I told you it might take a long time to search it all. I’m not through yet. I know I’ll find them.”

“No, you won’t Eva.”

“Of course I will.” Despite my reassurances, today’s failure has caused me to worry as well. I try not to let any doubts show in my voice.

“I still have two rooms left on the servants floor–Melanie was cleaning them last week so I didn’t get a chance to look at them–and I’ve one entire attic left. It’s the one we found the ghost girl and her brother in. Just because Rath didn’t know they were there doesn’t mean he didn’t go there to hide your….”

“Eva they won’t be there.” He is shouting. Iain has never shouted before.

“You don’t know that, Iain.”

“Eva. My ashes aren’t there. They aren’t in the attic. They aren’t in the spare rooms. They aren’t in the basement and they aren’t in the stables outside.” His voice is rising with each sentence. I want to stop him, but I can’t make a sound in the face of his frenzy. “I’ll tell you where they are, Eva. They were cast to the winds. They were dumped into a stream or thrown into the ocean. They were buried beneath the cornerstone of a church or spread into a field of wheat as fertilizer. But in the end, it doesn’t matter what or how they are gone Eva, they simply are gone and you will never find them!”

“Even if I don’t find them, we’ll find another way to make you whole, Iain, I promise.” Tears slip down my cheeks. Despite my bravado I know Iain is probably right about the ashes, but I refuse to let that be the only option. Seeing him so sunken into despair is like a knife in me. I take hold of his angry face lifting him to me. Gently I cradle him against my heart.

“You’ll be alright Iain. Please don’t give up. I promise to find a way for you to be whole again. I promise.”

For a long time we are both silent. I cradle Iain, rocking back and forth as though his head were an infant in my arms. Fighting down my own pain, I manage to end my tears. I have to be strong – strong enough for both of us.

“Eva?” He still sounds so ragged, so empty.

“Yes Iain?”

“Do you remember what you offered me?”

“Of course I do. I told you I would find a way to get you your body back.“

“You also offered to help me die.”

I go cold, goose bumps covering every inch of exposed skin. My voice is shaky. “You didn’t choose that.”

“I do now. Help me die, Eva, I don’t want to live like this anymore.” I don’t look at his face, but I know he is in earnest. How did I not know his despair had gone this far, that he had lost all hope? He may have, but I haven’t.

“No.”

“Eva, you promised me.”

“No, Iain, not while there is any chance.”

“But there isn’t any and you know it,” he cries. I don’t look down, I can’t look down. If I see his eyes now I’ll give in and I can’t. His life depends on my strength even if he doesn’t want to believe.

“Maybe not for your ashes, Iain, but there are other ways. There have to be. We found them in the books, remember?” Oh, God, my voice is starting to crack. I fight to control it.

“Fairy tales and fiction. The choice is mine and I’ve made it. Hold me out into the sunlight Eva while it still shines. Let me see it one more time then let me die.”

“No!” I struggle to stand without dropping him. “I swore to bring your body back and I’m going to. You may be ready to give up, but I’m not.”

“It’s not your decision.” How can he put such force into screaming when there are no lungs to propel his sound?

Shaking, I have to pull the latch several times before I succeed in opening the hidden door. Ignoring his pleas, I thrust Iain into the hideaway.

“Let me die, Eva. I want to die!”

“I can’t Iain.” Before I am tempted to look in his eyes, I slam closed the panel. It doesn’t shut out, however, the sound of Iain’s voice as he continues to scream.

“Why did you give me a choice if you never meant to honor it? Why are you doing this, Eva? Are you doing this for me or for yourself? Or are you just using me to spite your brother?”

I slip to the floor, weeping uncontrollably onto the damp towel. My heart cries out that I am doing it all for him. Deep inside, however, I don’t really know if that’s true. Unable to shut out Iain’s screams or his accusations, I stay on the floor, crying.

Return to part i: matins & lauds
Continue to part iii: baptism

episode i: journey into darkness - episode ii: tea party - episode iii: awakening
episode iv: the book of grief - episode v: paterfamilias - episode vi: breaking points
episode vii: the dark of the mind - episode viii: decisions
episode ix: momentary distractions - episode x: exorcising demons i
episode xi: porcelain visions - episode xii: the nature of jackals
episode xiii: exorcising demons ii - episode xiv: the invitation
episode xv: body & soul - episode xvi: mothering sunday
episode xvii: imbalance of power - episode xviii: interlude
episode xix: between life and death

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