“Okay, then,” he said into the hush. “You’ve let me in—now tell me where to go.”
He waited a moment for something to happen. Regardless of the magic running through its veins, though, it was still just a house, not a person. It couldn’t talk. It couldn’t point.
“Thought so,” he said, about to go find Jess when a sound from the second floor caught his attention. It sounded like small feet shuffling against wood, then carpet—and it was moving closer.
Something unseen crept down the stairs.
Uncomfortable shivers skated across his skin. He remembered the sort of defenses this house had enacted when they’d gone to battle to take it back. Maybe it couldn’t talk and point, but it could certainly kill those who did.
He took another couple steps so the banister no longer obstructed his view.
“Fu—” He jumped and quickly scooted back when he saw what was hobbling down the stairs.
He hadn’t seen these when they were first unleashed, and they’d been hidden away by the time he returned to the house. Now he understood why Jess was afraid for her life.
“Okay, okay,” he said, backing up quickly. “You’ve proven yourself.”
A large doll, its exact height hard to judge but probably topping out at his thigh, worked its way down the stairs. The little girl’s face, made of a different material than the plastic of the limbs, had rosy cheeks and a pouting mouth, twisted up as if she were about to cry. It looked like someone had ripped a child out of the nineteenth century, shrunk her, and stuck her in a dreamscape.
Saying it was haunting did not do it justice.
He stood tall when it reached the bottom, showing no fear, as befitted someone of his rank. Its little face tilted up to him, and it was all he could do not to grimace and kick it away. The doll pointed down the hall.
“Overkill,” he muttered to himself.
He got it. The house could point.
He took a step in the way the doll indicated, but it toddled forward, like a two-year-old. He couldn’t hold back the grimace this time. This whole house needed to be set on fire.
Down the hall the doll hobbled, its little feet, stuffed in plastic white shoes, making soft clacking noises as it went. On the rugs he heard its pitter-patter and committed it to memory. He didn’t know what these monsters were capable of, but if things ever turned, he wanted to be prepared.
Near the back of the house, he hesitated. He didn’t have a clear map of this place, but he did know a few of the prominent rooms, one of which was the Council Room, a space for the house’s heir to hold court, or so Earl had said. Jess would eventually lead her twelve chosen, the best and the brightest magical people in the world. Again, so Earl had said. Austin had no idea where she planned to lead them, or in what. The fact that Earl himself was part of the circle made the whole system suspect. Though Austin supposed only a person with a guaranteed spot would have been willing to loiter around the empty house for years, waiting for an heir who might or might not show up.
Austin had only glimpsed the room once, before Jess had come to town. He’d come over to check the place out, allowed in by Earl, but a terrible sickness had washed over him as soon as he crossed the threshold of this room. He’d barely made it outside to throw up. Earl hadn’t been long in shutting the door after him.
Only pleasant feelings radiated through Austin as he approached it now. Warmth, acceptance, and welcome.
Jaw aching from how tightly he was clenching it, he followed the doll until it stopped at the door. It bowed to him, of all things, before retreating from the door and scooting past him.
He gave it plenty of room.
Standing in the doorway, not wanting to cross the threshold in case the house got any more notions regarding his involvement, he looked inside and saw Jess standing in the center of a circle of ornate, high-backed wooden chairs. She stared at the wall opposite him, utterly still. Her hair was in a high ponytail that had let as much hair escape as it had kept contained. Her formfitting jeans hugged her curves, and her red hoodie collected just above her muscular butt.
“Hi,” she said without looking.
“Hey,” he answered, drawing her eyes as she turned around.
She gave him a once-over, her gaze lingering on his chest. “Nice shirt. That’s a good look for you.”
He glanced down at his snug white shirt. The only thing he could say for it was that it was clean and wrinkle-free. “Thanks. I was just escorted by one of your dolls.”
She shivered. “I’ve managed to get rid of two of them, but Mr. Tom keeps catching me before I can burn them in the yard. Once I’m better with this magic…” She drew her finger across her throat.