The Hushing [#ONC2022]

Chapter Three (part 2)

"Marion! Welcome to my humble home," she said with a lazy wave of her long fingers. "Your room is ready and waiting, as promised. I also took the liberty of selecting some clothes from my personal wardrobe for you, since you can't possibly continue wearing that." She gestured with disdain at Marion. "Oh, and I thought we might like to plan a little celebration, now that you're here to stay."

"Visit," Marion corrected.

Lady Ingrid went still and silent as a stone. Her smile froze in place.

"I beg your pardon?" she said, each word clipped and tight.

Septimus cleared his throat. Marion could have sworn she heard him mutter grovel under his breath but she wasn't sure. Judging by the way Lady Ingrid's black eyes were locked on Marion, it seemed like a safe guess.

"I just meant," Marion said, "I'm here to visit. Not to stay. When I find the mirror, I'm going back home."

A heartbeat of stillness settled over the room. Then Lady Ingrid bared her teeth in a smile.

"Of course. That was implied, darling."

A door opened to Marion's right and two wraiths entered, clad in the same black armor Septimus wore. They must be guards, too, she thought. But unlike Septimus, these wraiths did not have defined features, their faces bearing that same unsettling smudge of gray, just like the others that had chased Marion in the forest.

The guards carried a third wraith between them, small and shrieking. Not the hungry scream Marion had heard before. This was higher pitched, frantic with terror as it struggled to free itself. But its wings were strapped to its back with thick, heavy chains, and the wraiths didn't slow their relentless march toward Lady Ingrid's throne.

"Excuse me, Marion, dear," Lady Ingrid said. "I'm afraid this little spot of business won't take long. Just a moment."

Septimus cupped Marion's elbow and drew her aside. She glanced up at him, searching for some clue or answer to find out what was happening here. But Septimus kept his gaze straight ahead, his expression neutral, his jaw clenched tight. She wasn't getting anything out of him.

"Kneel," Lady Ingrid said, her voice like steel.

The wraith was shoved to its knees at the foot of her throne. Lady Ingrid shifted forward and extended one finger, tipping the wraith's chin up.

"You are new," she said, her tone considerably softer this time, almost a gentle, soothing purr. "Freshly and terribly dead. All of this must be so frightening for you. Does the hunger hurt?"

The wraith nodded, its screaming subsiding to whimpers and mewls.

"I'm sure it does," Lady Ingrid continued. "And all you can think about is feeding it, finally being warm again. Isn't that right?"

The way she said warm with so much possessiveness, it sent a shudder down Marion's spine. The wraith fell quiet and it almost seemed innocent as it peered up at Lady Ingrid, body bent in supplication.

"I'll take care of you," Lady Ingrid whispered. "All you have to do is swear your allegiance to me, darling. And you are free to roam in The Hushing, anywhere you wish."

The wraith fell quiet. Marion found herself holding her breath, waiting for a response. Then the wraith spoke and it was worse than the shrieking that had chilled her to the bone before.

"No," it said in a gravelly voice, echoing over and over as if it spoke from the pit of a well, buried thousands of feet underground. "I will not bow to you."

Lady Ingrid cocked her head and clucked her tongue.

"Such a pity."

With blinding speed, her hand shot out, fingers locked around the wraith's throat. As Lady Ingrid leaned in closer, something...shifted...in her face. Her mouth worked back and forth, as if she was tying a knot in a cherry stem with her tongue. Then she stretched her lips wide open, like a snake with an unhinged jaw, ready to swallow its prey whole. Her teeth were no longer in neat, tidy white rows. Now they were thin black needles, dripping with ink-like fluid that oozed down her chin. When the fluid hit the floor, it sizzled, sending up little plumes of smoke where it burned through the marble.

The wraith flailed, fighting to escape Lady Ingrid's grip. It tried to scream but the only sound that came out was a panicked gargle.

Marion wanted to tear her gaze away from what was playing out right in front of her. But Septimus tightened his grip on her elbow, holding her in place, forcing her to watch. She tried to pry his fingers away from her arm but his grip tightened to a near-bruising force. He didn't look at her, standing there emotionless and silent.

Tendrils of pale light began to rise from the wraith's mouth. Curling. Crawling. Grasping like tentacles as it emerged past the wraith's lips. Lady Ingrid extended a long, black tongue and licked up the light, gulping it down.

At last, she released the wraith and the body vanished into a pile of ashes, swirling across the marble floor. Skittering over Marion's shoes. The landscape of ashes suddenly made horrific sense. This entire place was littered with the remains of wraith corpses.

Lady Ingrid gave a full-body shudder and her face was normal again. A little too pale, a little too angular, but more closely resembling a human than that thing she'd been a moment ago. She licked her fingertips with wet, smacking sounds and sighed. Leaning back in her seat, she waved the guards away.

"You are free to go," she said.

Then her black gaze flicked to Marion. A small smile touched her lips and Marion couldn't help noticing the fleck of light at the corner of her mouth. Lady Ingrid wiped it away with the tip of her gray tongue.

"I'm so sorry you had to see that, pet," she said in a tone that didn't sound like she was sorry at all. "But a queen's work is never done."