Page 120 of The Moorwitch

I look at it sourly, the pale bark and dark-red leaves hateful to my eyes. It seems such a paltry thing to have cost so much.

After a few minutes, I force myself upright and into the trees, clutching the branch with all my strength. If I get it to Lachlan in time, perhaps he can somehow reach Elfhame and overthrow Morgaine before she can harm Conrad.

It seems a desperate fool’s hope, but without it I do not think I could stand.

I’m still barefoot, stepping painfully over rocks and roots, but I push myself anyway, until I find Bell among the trees, where Conrad said he would be. The horse is so tall I must lead him to a rock so that I can climb atop it and then onto his back. I give him his head and whisper encouragement in his ear; he takes off at a trot, picking up the pace once we leave the wood.

The night sky festers with fitful clouds. They roll and boil across the stars, swallowing the moon whole. A black wind rushes over the moor, and on it I smell smoke.

My stomach twists with foreboding.

“Faster, Bell,” I say.

I see the fire a full minute before I realize it is Ravensgate I am looking at.

The manor is ablaze, orange and angry beneath the brooding storm clouds. Horror opens like a pit in my stomach, and I dig my heels into Bell’s sides. He throws his head forward and gallops hard, sweat hot on his withers.

I slide off before he comes to a full stop and sprint to the house. About a third of it is on fire—the wing where Sylvie and the MacDougals sleep. There is no sign of anyone outside, which means they may still be within.

Throwing open the door, I stumble back as a wall of black smoke rolls out. Then, coughing and gasping, I hold my skirt over my nose and plunge into the manor.

The grand foyer is aglow with flames; they eat the drapes and gnaw on the banister and have completely filled the passage to the kitchen. The roar of the blaze drowns out my shouts for Sylvie and Mrs. MacDougal. The floorboards are hot under my bare feet.

Charging up the stairs, I come to the MacDougals’ room first and pound on the door. When no one replies, I wrap my skirt around the hot handle and open it.

The old couple is still asleep; a muffling charm is hung on the door, pale threads wound across a thin hoop, as I’d suspected one must be when I’d tried to escape Conrad’s entrapment spell earlier. I wrench it down and tear it apart.

“Wake up!” I shout.

Their eyes are only starting to blink open as I run out of the room again, then up the stairs to the floor where Sylvie sleeps. The flames are thicker here, and I push through a corridor lined with them, dizzy from the heat and smoke. I cannot shout for Sylvie; I can barely breathe. Even if I had all the thread in the world, I could not put out this fire. It would take twenty Weavers together to have a hope.

When I reach her room, I open the door only to see a torrent of flames rushing out. I leap back with a dry gasp.

I’m too late.

Her entire room is filled with fire.

For a moment I stand frozen in place, my mind utterly blank with horror. All I can think of is Conrad, begging me through the portal glass:Promise me, Rose. Please!

Something grabs my skirt, and I shout, turning, ready to bludgeon whoever it is.

But then I see a familiar furry face, and I let out a sob and reach for him. “Captain! Come!”

He evades my hand and instead tugs at my hem with his teeth.

“What is it, boy?”

With a bark, he turns and bounds away.

“No!” I shout. “Come back!”

I run after him, determined to carry him over my shoulder if I must. He barks again, his hackles raised high, then darts through an open door leading to the attic.

Cursing and teary, I follow him up. The air is choked with smoke, but I look back and see the flames pursuing me with ravenous hunger. I cannot go back down.

So I climb, coughing and dizzy. At the top, I stumble to a halt, and stare.

Sylvie stands in the center of the attic, her back to me, before the great ward loom. Fire licks the frame, and the corners of the tapestry begin to wither and blacken. Captain lies at Sylvie’s feet and whines.