Page 17 of The Last De Loughrey Dynasty (The Legacy of Aquila Hall #1)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

DOROTHEE

The moment I started to feel dizzy, I realised I was holding my breath. The problem was that I would rather faint than look at the girl in front of me for another second.

Everything I had eaten throughout the night rose in my throat. My legs wouldn’t give me a chance to move and run into the nearby bathroom to puke my guts out. I was frozen in fear, and all I could do was collapse to the ground, emptying my stomach into a nearby flower tray.

I didn’t know what burnt skin looked like before today. I now knew that skin started to peel when it burned, and how blisters covered the untouched skin that had grown too hot from the flames. Her eyes were fully blinded, and it looked like her eyelids had been burned off— God, I shouldn’t have looked so closely.

My eyes stung with unshed tears, and all I managed to do was dry heave. My knuckles ached from how tightly I was holding onto the flower tray, trying to somehow regulate my breathing and not turn this into a full-blown panic attack.

This hadn’t been a costume, that much I knew. No make-up artist could make burnt skin look that realistic. This was real… It was real to me.

I let out a sob, tears falling from my eyes, my throat burning in agony. When I managed to look back up, the hallway was empty again. She had disappeared. Maybe I had offended her with my reaction to her appearance, but who wouldn’t? This girl looked horrifying. I was sure that even Archer couldn’t have kept his stomach contents down.

All the illusions— ghosts —I had seen before were covered in blood. I could handle blood and wounds perfectly well, but burned skin…

I’d rather never open my eyes again than look at that girl for one more second.

Slowly, on unsteady legs, I rose. I didn’t turn, I didn’t look. I just started walking, keeping my gaze straight as I fisted the black tourmaline in my hand, pleading for its protection.

There is nothing to be afraid of. I’m fine.

If my legs weren’t so shaky, I would have run back to the ballroom, where I knew it was safe. Over time, I realised I could only see them this clearly when I was on my own.

Since then, I’d started to be scared of spending all night in my bedroom by myself. It wasn’t the fear of being alone in the dark; it was the fear of not being alone.

The corridor grew darker the further I walked. Lights started to extinguish behind me, forcing me to quicken my pace and hurry as best as I could towards the massive stairway at the end.

I couldn’t wrap my mind around what was happening to me.

Later . I could figure that out later. Right now, I just didn’t want to be alone anymore.

The past month had been so good, so peaceful. Now everything started to crumble, and I felt like that little girl again. Scared of the dark. Scared of opening her eyes in case someone was staring at her. Scared of this very life I was forced to live. I hadn’t felt anything like this in a long while, and being afraid didn’t even come close to what I was going through right now. All I wanted to do was scream whenever a new light went off, but they wouldn’t hear me over the loud music. If they heard me, I would have to hear the words liar , crazy , mental , and mad over and over again until I internalised them to the point where I couldn’t tell what was the truth and what was the lie.

Right before I reached the stairway, I tripped over something. My knees hit the ground, and I had to squeeze my eyes shut to keep from crying out loud in pain.

I groaned as excruciating pain shot through my knees, up to my thighs and down to my shins.

Please, don’t be broken.

A quiet whimper escaped me when I flipped over to sit on the floor and inspect my knees. There was no blood, just pale skin reddening.

My eyes met the ones who had caused my fall. A child was sitting on the floor, his legs extended. The little boy, no older than eight, looked at me with curiosity in his eyes.

“I apologise. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you, miss,” the child’s voice was small. He sounded as if he were afraid that I would be angry with him.

The little boy didn’t look like he belonged here, or in this time. But you can’t feel ghosts, right? How could I have tripped over his legs if he were a ghost? Maybe he was the son of a professor, celebrating Halloween in an old Sixties costume.

“It’s my fault, I should have watched where I was going,” I said, still clutching my leg, hoping the throbbing pain would subside soon.

The boy’s eyes looked me up and down, his lips bluish. He must be cold. I couldn’t blame him. Tonight was freezing.

I closed my eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly. Throwing up had made my stomach cramp, and my head kept spinning from everything. All I wanted to do was hide under the covers of my bed. But I didn’t want to be alone.

“I’m George. What’s your name, miss?”

“Dorothee, but my friends call me Doe,” I replied, hearing the exhaustion in my voice. Unwillingly, I looked around to make sure I wasn’t surrounded by ghosts with their skin hanging half off their bones.

“Are you the son of one of the professors?” I could finally breathe again, and the pain in my knees was slowly subsiding, leaving only a burning sensation from where my skin had come in contact with the marble beneath.

George shook his head, wet black curls falling onto his forehead.

“That wouldn’t be possible.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why is that?”

“I’ve been dead for more than sixty years, miss.”

Cold sweat broke out all over my body, and if anything had been left in my stomach, I’m sure I’d be hanging over a flower tray once more as his words rattled through my body.

I couldn’t contain the cry that escaped me.

I couldn’t do this anymore.

Everything was too much.

Make it stop. Make it stop.

Please.

I need all of this to stop.

Please, please, please.

I jumped to my feet and fled from all the stupid nonsense that was haunting my mind, making me think I truly belonged here. At Aquila Hall for teenagers who couldn’t handle their own minds.

I was done. I was so bloody done with everything.

My knees throbbed with every step I took, and I didn’t even know where I was trying to go. I just wanted to get away. Out of my skin. Away. Away. Away.

I was left helpless because no one understood what this was like. No one believed me, not a single word. But I did. The thoughts swirling in my head made sense to me. I believed what my eyes showed me. Nothing could be just a mental illusion.

I couldn’t hold myself up and broke down in the middle of the stairs that would lead me to my bedroom. But there wouldn’t be a saviour either.

My legs were shaking too much, and I was inhaling and exhaling faster than my lungs could handle, causing my vision to blur. I was overcome with tears and didn’t have the strength to contain any of it.

The wailing. The screaming.

I couldn’t take this anymore. None of it.

“Dottie?” A hand touched my shoulder, and I lifted my head, but I didn’t dare open my eyes.

“It’s okay. It’s me, Gwyneth.” Without thinking another second, I threw myself into her arms and cried against her shoulder.

She tried to calm me by brushing her hand over my back and whispering soothing words. “Shh, everything will be alright.”

I shook my head against her shoulder. “Nothing will be alright. I hate my life. All I want is to be normal, but all the universe is giving me are more and more burdens in my pathetic existence,” I sobbed. “I thought everything would be alright eventually, but nothing’s changed. My entire past keeps repeating itself, and all it gets is darker and darker. And I… I can’t do this anymore.”

Gwyneth was the first person I’d ever told how I truly felt. All she did was hold me in this vulnerable moment, where my heart bled out onto the stairs. While I felt guilty for crying in the arms of a fourteen-year-old girl.

Right now, I felt safe with her. Gwyn made me feel protected from every dark spirit in this school—this world.

“I’ll take you to a place that’ll protect you. Do you trust me?” Her voice was soft, as if she half expected that if she spoke too loudly, I would break into a thousand pieces.

Pulling away from her, I nodded without hesitation.

Gwyn helped me up, intertwining our hands.

“Close your eyes. Just trust me,” the dark-eyed girl in front of me whispered as she pulled a ribbon from her dress and lifted it to my face, masking my eyes. I was unaware of where it had come from, but I felt so safe around Gwyn that I allowed her to do it, knowing she understood what was happening in some way and was trying to help me through it by shielding my vision from all the bad.

I was so careless. All I needed was somewhere to hide.

We were running through the forest, the ribbon covering my eyes allowing me to take breaths without feeling sick for just another moment. I tried not to think about what might be in these woods… or who…

But they couldn’t hurt me while I couldn’t see them, and over the sound of my friend’s voice, which could have come straight out of a fairytale, I couldn’t hear them either. Gwyneth’s voice was melodic, even as we ran, and I could hear the smile in it.

The air was icy tonight, and the tiny raindrops felt like a thousand needles poking at my skin as we ran.

“I’m going to stop soon, just a heads-up, so you don’t run into me,” Gwyn chuckled softly.

I already knew where we were headed. We were going to the enchanted lake. It was Gwyneth’s safe place, and if she truly believed that I’d be protected there, then I trusted her with my life. There was nothing left for me to lose.

The ground beneath us was becoming bumpier, which told me we were nearing the bridge.

“Slow down,” she warned, and we both eased our pace.

“Can I take the ribbon off?” I asked, though part of me hoped to keep the fabric over my eyes for the rest of the night.

“Not yet, my friend.” Gwyn took both my hands, and I felt the ground crack beneath us. She led me onto the bridge. I felt calmer here than I had at school.

The cold air made it easier to breathe, and Gwyn’s presence around me felt like a home I never knew I had. There was a special connection with her that I couldn’t explain. Her very existence brought a strange sense of comfort.

Her hands were freezing when she lifted them to my face, gently unfastening the ribbon. I couldn’t stop myself from keeping my eyes closed for another moment. Gwyneth lightly brushed her fingers over my eyelids before I finally opened them.

I had expected the world around us to be dark, but it wasn’t. The water of the lake shimmered in a soft green glow. I gasped, and despite the fear knotted in my chest, a smile tugged at my lips. “This is beautiful,” I whispered.

Gwyn smiled beside me, her gaze fixed on the glowing water. She reached for my hand and squeezed my fingers tightly. “I wish more people could see that these waters aren’t haunted. She’s just a sad soul,” her voice softened, and the smile that had been there turned into a wistful, longing expression.

“The tale is true, right? That’s her doing.”

Gwyneth looked at me, nodding. “She’s one of the few spirits that will keep you safe at Aquila Hall. She found peace in these waters. I like to call it the lake of the lost fox.”

“I love that.” Tonight’s events were already blurring my vision, and even now I could feel the world slowing down more than it should. It was as though my mind had been captured in some kind of trance.

“Her waters are lovely. I like to float in them. Everything feels so peaceful.” Gwyn let go of my hand and walked to the edge where the water met the rocks. I noticed for the first time that she wasn’t wearing shoes, or even socks. She must be freezing cold.

The fourteen-year-old girl lifted her dress and stepped into the water, sinking fully into the glowing lake.

“Gwyn, get out, the water must be ice-cold!” I called out, but my head was spinning so much I could barely manage a whispered warning. I grabbed the railing and moved toward the water’s edge where Gwyn had disappeared.

Gwyneth laughed, a sound full of pure joy. “It’s warm, Dottie. Come in, we can swim together.”

In my dress, the air alone was almost freezing me to death. How could these waters possibly be warm… probably the same way they glowed at night.

Spirits.

Could things get worse?

I removed my shoes and dipped my toes into the water. I was surprised to find it was, indeed, warm.

I took another step, then another, until I was chin-deep in the lake. I laughed, delirious from everything that had happened. How my laugh even made it out tonight was a mystery, but I couldn’t complain.

Gwyn watched me, her eyes soft, as I twirled around in the water, laughing like a madwoman.

“I need to show you something, Dottie.”

I stopped, turning to face her. “It can’t get more beautiful than this, can it?”

She shook her head, a faint smile on her lips. “It’s not exactly beautiful, but it’s important to me.” Suddenly, her expression turned serious, and I listened closely.

“What is it, Gwyn?”

She stared at her reflection in the water.

“It’s underneath. You need to hold your breath and dive. I’ll help you.”

She’d helped me before, so this was the least I could do for her. It seemed important to her.

I didn’t nod, I simply took her hand and squeezed it, signalling I was ready.

Gwyn tilted her head for just a second, as though considering something deeply, before she sighed and disappeared beneath the surface. I followed her, close behind.

When I opened my eyes underwater, my vision was blurry, and my eyes stung until I adjusted to the feeling.

The first thing I noticed was Gwyn’s intense gaze.

Was something wrong?

She pulled me towards her, gripping my hand tightly and wrapping her arms around me. It wasn’t really a hug. No, it was more like she was clinging to me. Her actions left me confused, but then a sharp, burning pain hit my chest, and I screamed. All I saw were air bubbles rising from my mouth and floating to the surface. Water rushed into my lungs, and I tried to push Gwyn off, but she was too heavy, and my strength was fading unnaturally fast.

I couldn’t breathe.

Before my consciousness slipped away, the last thing I saw was a burst of light exploding through the lake.

“Don’t run so fast, Dottie!” My voice exploded with laughter as I called after her. The wind was slowing us down today, but of course, my friend seemed to have no trouble defying it.

“Come on, we don’t have all day, Gwyn!” Dottie turned around to wait for me, her red hair covered in snowflakes.

It had always been a mystery to me why my beloved friend had such a deep disdain for her natural hair colour. In my eyes, it made her seem even more magical. She was the kind of person people wrote novels about. I always wanted to be her, but she didn’t know that, because I knew Dottie. She would tell me how special I was because she was the sweetest person to walk the earth. To be alive at the same time as her truly felt like an honour.

“I know, but I don’t want to slip—the ground is frozen,” I defended myself the moment I reached her. Dottie grabbed my hand and shook her head.

“You won’t slip. Besides, the snow will catch you in its soft embrace.” She giggled, pulling me along with her.

I laughed too, lifting the hem of my skirt with my free hand to make it easier to move. These long dresses were torturous, but it was Christmas week, and I was playing Maria in this year’s nativity play. It was my duty to wear the appropriate costume. I never could have guessed my friend would drag me out of school in these same clothes to run through the woods. If I had known, I might have chosen something more comfortable.

“Where are you taking me, Dottie?” I asked, joyful gasps escaping my lips when a mother bunny and her two babies crossed our path.

“I just love animals.” My smile was so wide, my cheeks were aching. I missed my bunny, Gretchen. My mum had promised to look after her while I was away at school, ever since she’d gifted her to me last summer. In a way, Gretchen was also my mother’s bunny. She needed someone to care for when her only child wasn’t around. I couldn’t wait to see them both over Christmas break. After the holiday celebrations and the nativity play, they’d be taking me home with them for two whole weeks until New Year’s.

“I know. That’s why you’re my fox. You’re clever, focused, and you’ve got that high-pitched laugh that sounds just like a fox’s.” Dottie let out a quiet scream between her laughter when I threw myself into her arms, and we both tumbled into the snow, giggling.

“I do not sound like a fox when I laugh!” I protested, but my friend just shook her head, clutching her stomach as she laughed so hard, tears rolled down her temples. “Yes, you do!”

“You’re terrible, Dottie!” I shot back, laughing just as hard as she was. But when I looked up, all the air left my lungs.

A big smile crept onto my face, and I pushed myself up, nearly losing my balance on the slippery ice.

“You brought me here to show me the lake?” I asked, helping my friend to her feet and holding us both steady by a tree.

Dottie grinned. “I know how much you love it here. When I woke up to all that snow on my balcony, I just knew this place would look even more magical today.”

“Now I’m not even mad at you for pulling me out of class,” I teased, squeezing her hand in mine.

Together, we carefully made our way down the little hill, reaching our hideaway. We always came here when everything got too much. This lake had given us so much hope over the last two years, its waters magical in our eyes. I held on to that.

“This is just—” I couldn’t find the words to describe how beautiful it was.

“Astonishing,” Dottie finished for me.

The lake was frozen, its surface covered in snow, with even more flakes gently falling. The trees surrounding the water were also coated in white, just like the bridge. Dottie and I had spent so many afternoons sitting on it, talking about the thoughts that kept us awake at night and making up stories to drift off to sleep.

I wanted to rush ahead, but Dottie stopped me, holding my hand. “What are you up to?”

“I want to dance on the frozen lake, like one of those figure skaters Mum watches during the holidays,” I answered, my voice bubbling with excitement. I couldn’t wait to twirl over the slippery surface like a real ballerina. But Dottie just pulled her hand from mine, slowly shaking her head.

“That’s too dangerous, Gwyn. I brought you here just to admire the view.”

“Then I’m going to dance alone,” I said, “but you’ll have to sing, or I won’t be able to sway to the sound of your voice.”

Without waiting for an answer, I took off my shoes. They weren’t suitable for dancing, and I knew my socks would make a much better substitute for ballet slippers. Well, not technically the same, but it was easier to balance on my toes without the stiff boots my dad had bought for me.

“No! Gwyn, get back here, you’re scaring me!” Dottie cried as I stepped onto the ice.

I turned back to face her, “The ground’s solid. It’s been cold for weeks. You don’t need to worry. I’m just like the fox in one of your stories—the one who finds joy in the risky moments of life,” I said, laughing softly as I glided further out on the ice, my arms stretched out to help me balance. It was harder than I had imagined, but not impossible. And I hated the idea of taking risks.

My Nanna always used to say, no risks, no fun.

“That’s not what I—get off the ice, Gwyneth!” Dottie shouted in a shrill voice, and I heard the ice crack beneath me. I froze in my tracks.

“Don’t move!” Dottie commanded, and I obeyed. My heart was pounding, my breath shallow as I tried to think of a solution.

“I’ll get a teacher! I’ll get help—”

“It’s ten minutes back to school, twenty until someone gets here!” I whispered, regret flooding me. I should have stayed safe, stayed in my comfort zone. Why had I been so reckless?

Tears began to fall down my cheeks. This was so foolish of me.

“Don’t cry, Gwynnie!” my best friend shouted. She was rushing around, wrapping herself around the branch of an old tree.

I heard the branch crack and Dottie cried out as she crashed to the ground, the branch still in her arms.

“Are you okay?” I called, but I saw her stand up, clutching the heavy branch. “I’m fine, I’ll fix this. I promise. Everything will be all right.” Dottie joined me, tears in her eyes as she pushed the branch out onto the frozen lake towards me.

“You need to hold on to it and lie on your stomach to balance your weight. I’ll pull you to me. Everything will be fine,” Dottie said, kneeling to get a better grip. “But you have to promise me, Gwyn, that you’ll always listen to me and never do anything like this again.”

“I promise.”

I was shaking with fear, but I trusted her more than anyone else in the world.

My entire body was trembling as I slowly tried to kneel, but my foot slipped, and I crashed to the ice. My knee slammed against the frozen surface. I felt the ice begin to crack beneath me, but all I could focus on was the branch. I reached for it, but my fingers couldn’t grasp it.

“Gwyn!”

I cried out in desperation, crawling along the ice, trying to find something, anything to hold onto.

But it was too late.

The lake swallowed me whole.

Water filled my lungs, and I fought to swim, but the cold paralysed my limbs. It was so dark beneath the surface. I felt panic rising, but I couldn’t breathe. More icy water filled my chest, and I coughed, struggling for air when there was none. I was terrified of being lost in this darkness forever.

And then, the heart of the lake silenced my fear.

All my strength faded.

I couldn’t move.

I couldn’t breathe.

Suffocating.

I was suffocating.

I was so scared.