Page 107 of The Staircase in the Woods

“You’ve been here before.”

Nick sniffed, coughed a little to clear his throat, as if the truth was stuffed down in there deep, had to be jostled free. “Just let it in, Nailbiter. Open the door and let the house in. The house always wins, Zuikas. The house always wins.”

Owen’s head spun with questions. None of them good. None of them with answers he wanted to hear.Still. You have to say the words.

“You knew what this place was.”

“I did.”

“And yet—”

“And yet.”

Deep breath. “Did you…find Matty?”

“You don’t care.”

“I care, Nick. I care, don’t say that. Did you find Matty?”

“Fuck off, fuck you.”

“Did you find Matty?”

A sharp, cold laugh from Nick, one ruined by the sound of the threat of tears.

Nick was right up on him now. The light from the Zippo casting his face in a hellish glow. “I found the truth, is what I found. I found the body. Matty’s dead, kid. I wish this place would’ve killed me, too, but it won’t let me die. It emptied me out. Filled me up. Painted methe black of fire-char, the red of blood. This is home for me, now. I’m home. I’m home.”

“Nick, I—I don’t understand—”

“You will,” Nick said, his voice now the same throaty, buzzing chorus as Marshie’s. “You will, when you’re all alone. Which is what you deserve, as you well know, Nailbiter.”

“Nick—”

“I’m going to leave now. You’re on your own.”

Nick backed toward the door.

“Wait,” Owen said, reaching out and grabbing at Nick’s elbow—

Nick shoved him backward.

And that’s when Owen hit him. At the end of his fist rode a world of resentment, weariness, and above all else, anger. Anger at himself, at this place, at Matty for climbing those stairs, at Lore for abandoning him, at Hamish for changing, and at Nick for leading them to this house.

Nick’s head rocked back, the nose popping—

Owen opened his mouth to speak—just one phrase, only part of which he got out: “The Coven—”

But Nick was fast to counter. He launched himself at Owen, slamming his forehead again and again into Owen’s skull—it felt like taking a hit from a sledgehammer. Stars went supernova behind Owen’s eyes as the lighter went out, falling from his other hand. He staggered backward, his feet slipping on loose cereal. Pain fired up his spine like a signal flare as he fell hard on his tailbone. Blood slicked his tongue. The half darkness returned as the lighter bounced away—he cried out, tried to call to Nick, but it was too late. Nick went through the door, closing it behind him.

61

Triage and Sojourn

Owen woke up when a cockroach was trying to get into his ear. It got halfway in, its front legs scrambling against his eardrum. It hurt—a sharp ache. With it, a sound like crumpling aluminum foil deep in the well of his skull. He gasped, his lips tacky with his own blood, and panicked as he reached for the bug and couldn’t get a grip on it. He realized,I’m pushing it in farther, I’m mashing it up and smashing it deeper into my ear, oh god, oh fuck, oh god—but then he managed to finally grip its hind end and unmoor it from his ear canal.

He threw it as far as he could. He heard ittick-a-tackagainst the wall somewhere before scurrying away.

Owen sat up. Panting.