The Night Curse (Book one)

My feet are like cinder blocks. I drag them one in front of the other along a cobbled street lined with beggars and drunks. After seven straight hours of searching, I’ve grown used to the stench of alcohol and filth. We’ve combed through every market, dock, and road. Every pub, brothel, and factory. Down every alleyway, and every abandoned property in the vicinity. Other Freemasons have barged into houses and companies, interrogating anyone who crosses their path.

Still no Austin.

Kennith has watched me like a hawk the entire time, and even now, his beady eyes stick to me like glue. Since my affections for Amelia have blossomed, I’ve begun to hate Kennith. It crept up on me, like the lust in my heart, and now my blinkers are removed, I cannot see Kennith for anything more than a corrupt man. Of course, I can’t let him know this. Not until Austin is returned at least.

My father trails behind at a snail’s pace. Peter takes note and turns to Kennith. “We need to rest. If it came to it, we’d be no use in a fight this tired.”

Even Kennith’s eyes were bloodshot. I stifle a yawn, wanting so badly to both sleep and keep going. But Peter is right. We need to reset if we have any hope of feeling fighting fit.

Kennith’s shoulders heave with the weight of his sigh. “Get a few hours kip. I’ll get a new selection of Freemasons on the hunt.”

Peter manages a faint smile. I respond weakly, “We’ll head back to the farm, just in case Austin manages to return of his own accord.”

Kennith lights another cigar. “We’ll meet you under the clocktower at noon, and not a minute later.”

Seeing the farm, after all this time, fills me with such gratitude. I’m so elated and relieved to see my home that I convince myself that Austin must be inside, ready to jump on my back and crumple my hair. That all this is some misunderstanding or prank, and life will go back to normal as soon as I cross the threshold.

I help my father up the hill. He’s struggling to stay upright, and I worry that he’ll collapse at any second. The barn door creaks open, and I glance around the dimly lit kitchen. It’s cold and empty. I carry my father to his bedroom and heave him onto his bed, removing the mud-coated boots from his worn feet. His breathing is laboured. I smooth over his thinning hair and give his hand a gentle squeeze before retreating into the hallway.

Sleep weighs heavily on me, but I can’t give in until I’ve given the homestead a full sweep. I open the door to Austin’s bedroom and witness the upturned furniture and scrupled sheets. Even though I know he’s gone, seeing the crime scene, lances my heart anew.

The creak of floorboards halts me in my tracks. They’re coming from my bedroom.

“Austin?” I murmur.

I turn the handle and creep in. The room is cloaked in shadows, and sat on my bed, is the silhouette of a person.

“Austin,” I repeat enthusiastically.

The silhouette stands, slight and curved, with tumbling hair. “Whose Austin?” the figure asks.

I step closer and see the person standing before me, shrouded in nightfall. “Amelia.” I clasp her to my chest, savouring the warmth and solidity of her soft skin. “Why are you here?”

“I had to see you,” she coos. “I thought you’d already be at the palace, but you’re here.”

I had forgotten all about Peter’s ruse. “I had to come back; my brother is missing. That’s who I thought you were.”

“What happened to him?”

“He was kidnapped.”

Mia lifts her hand to her mouth. “That explains the mess.”

I can’t help but marvel at Mia’s presence. I cup her face and draw her lips to mine. For a moment, I’m back in the clearing, pushing against her body and mouth. “How did you get here?” I somehow say between kisses.

Mia pulls her head back, but her hand still holds my waist. “Horseback. She’s tied up in the treeline. I left her with a stack of your vegetables and hay, I hope you don’t mind.”

“And you weren’t seen?”

She shakes her head loosely, and from a satchel, pulls out the black mask from the masquerade ball. “This came in very handy.”

“Are you alone?”

“My father is sleeping down the corridor, but he’s out for the count. We’ve been searching for Austin all night.”

“Who do you think took him?”

I bite my lip, my throat bobbing with every gulp. “Dreamwalkers.”

I prepare for more questions, but Mia looks crestfallen. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” I say, and I mean it, all of it.

“Let me help you. Get me something of his, the more sentimental the better. If he’s asleep, I can enter his dream and find out where he is.”

My brows knit, creasing my forehead into a deep crevice. “I thought your powers weren’t working anymore.”

“Only with you.”

“How do you know?”

Mia shuffles on the bed, momentarily silent. “They still work on my sister, Clemmy.”

I debate whether to push her further, but the prospect of finding Austin is too tempting. “Wait here.”

I rush to his room and start riffling through his things. To my horror and surprise, I find his Freemasons pendant glinting on the wooden floor, and a broken chain discarded nearby.

“That’ll work,” Mia claims from behind me.

She scoops it into her palm and turns it over, following the indented eye with her fingertip. “I’ve seen this symbol before. The previous groundsman, Mr Fletcher, had a symbol just like this on his mantel. What do you think it means?”

I take a step back and clear my throat. “I’m not sure. It could have something to do with his kidnapping.” In a way, it’s true.

“Let’s find out.”

I fight to stay awake. Mia has been lying on my bed for over half an hour. Her eyes roll under her lids as she clutches my brother’s pendant. Her chest rhythmically rises and falls. She looks so peaceful and beautiful.

What have I done to deserve her?

I brush my finger over her bottom lip, when she bolts upright, gasping for air like she’s been starved of oxygen.

“I’m here. You’re okay,” I reassure, rubbing the small of her back.

“I know where he is,” Mia croaks. “I know where to find your brother.”

“Where?”

“There was the clang of metal. Steam and fire. Austin is shackled underground there; in a basement, I think.”

I bury my head in my hands, rattling my brain. “I don’t know. Was there anything else?”

Amelia squints and thumbs her temples. “He kept showing me a rising sun. Does that mean anything to you?”

My head snaps upwards. “The Dawnforge. It’s a blacksmith on the edge of town.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No, Mia, you’ve done enough, but this is dangerous. I can’t risk anything happening to you.” I rub her shoulders, so small and breakable. Her lilac eyes mist with tears. “I’ll take you home, and then I will go to The Dawnforge.”

Mia throws her arms around me, and I inhale her scent like an Autumn breeze. “When will I see you again?” She mutters, and yet her words puncture through bone and muscle.

“Soon, I promise.”

Alongside the terror of not returning to Amelia, there is a more distant yet pressing worry, for the things I might have to do to get my brother back, may change me forever.