Where was he?
Somewhere nearby, she told herself, somewhere safe.
Her heart clenched.
Why would she even think such a thing? Of course he was near, and safe.
She turned and retraced her steps, pausing at the top of the stairs.
"Matthew," she said sternly, "answer me! Where are you?"
The answering voice, sly and soft as a cat's whisker, breathed into the heavy silence.
He's in the attic, Catherine, it whispered, why don't you come and find him?
Terror flooded through her like a wave of nausea. She spun around and stared down the hallway. A cold, milky vapor was oozing down the attic steps.
Come along, Catherine. He's waiting.
Kathryn made a soft, whimpering sound. Slowly, as if in a dream, she walked to the steps. At the bottom she stopped and looked up.
The door to the attic, though still bolted shut, quivered with a grotesque light that shone eerily through the white mist. The door was pulsing, swelling on its hinges, straining like the fevered heartbeat of some great beast.
Kathryn wanted to scream, but no sound would come from her throat. She moistened her lips, parted them and croaked out Matthew's name.
Catherine, sweet Catherine. It is he who you want now, is it? Well, then, mount the steps and come to me, here in the attic, and you will be with him, I promise you.
Her hand trembled, but she reached out and clasped the banister. It was frigid beneath the brush of her fingers.
One step.
Two.
Another...
"Kathryn!"
This time, she did scream. But it was Matthew's arms that had closed tightly around her, Matthew who drew her roughly from the stairs and down to the landing.
"Matthew," she sobbed, "oh, Matthew, thank God!"
He held her, his heart pounding wildly against hers.
"Are you all right?"
She nodded and sniffed damply against his chest. Dimly, her mind registered that he wasn't wearing a shirt, that his skin smelled of sun and roses and sweat.
"I thought," she whispered, "oh, I thought..."
"Kathryn." He put her from him, holding her at arm's length, and his tone became commanding. "You are to leave Charon's Crossing."
"No! Not without you."
"Do you hear me? Run until you're outside the gate and it is shut behind you."
"I won't do it! Not without—"
"Dammit to hell, don't argue!" He spun her around, put his hand in the small of her back and pushed her. "bet out of this abomination of a house, off the land that surrounds it, and do it now. Damn your eyes, woman! This isn't subject to discussion. You are to get out of here and not turn back, no matter what happens, no matter what you hear or think you hear. Is that clear?"