The Bone Princess

Chapter 3: Dance of the Bone Princess

Burning.

Face burning-at least the half that was planted into the ground. My palms, sprawled out over my head, also stung. My whole lower half felt numb. Wet. Was I shot? Tabby! Panic blinked my eyes open. Everything was white. My heart raced. Bright white.

Is this the end of the tunnel? Am I dead?

I quickly tried to sit up, but pins and needles attacked my right arm. I moved it around as I stood, disoriented, flexing my fingers. My knees and wrists hurt from the fall. Could you feel pain if you were dead? The wind whipped my hair up and made my teeth chatter; I shielded my eyes, looking at the snow that stretched for miles and miles. My father was gone. The basement was gone.

"What the hell?" I said to no one, my voice shaking as I stumbled back, hugging myself. "Where the hell am I?"

Just ahead, a dark shape hid under the layers of snow. When I squinted, I could make out a towering wrought-iron archway that connected an expansive iron fence, almost completely hidden by the snow. The rusting, scrolling letters looked like they were floating as I read them from behind:

A L L E R D A L E H A L L

What is Allerdale Hall? And more importantly, why am I on the inside? The answer to the first question was easily answered when I turned around: red clay path led up a gently sloping hill like a bloodline from the archway to an immense house at the top. Although the word house was inadequate-chateaux? Manor? As the snow came down heavier, the massive black estate seemed to churn in and out of existence, towers and spires stabbing the metal-colored sky. The place looked like it hadn't received visitors in a hundred years. There were no boarded windows or chained doors. No electric fences, no trespassing signs-it was utterly unnecessary, because everything about the house emitted darkness. No one in their right mind would wander into that place.

The wind's whistles momentarily silenced and I could hear ringing in my ears. The gun's explosion. I wrapped my arms tighter around my torso as the memories bombarded me: my father had tried to kill me. My father had tried to kill me. Panic attacked my insides. What if he was here, too? Where is Tabitha?

"What the hell?" I screamed into the blistering cold, and the big house seemed bigger somehow, its spires sharper, and the light burning in its windows seemed so warm. Tears fell, hot against my frigid face. Of course, Tabitha isn't here. This has to be hell. Tabitha would be somewhere made of vanilla frosting and rainbow rivers in valleys of sequins. Not here. Not on a frozen mountain with a house made of death. I screamed again but then abruptly shut up, suddenly feeling exposed. What if he was here, too? Hide, Sadie. You need to hide. The wind picked up, stinging my legs. I moved around, pacing. Rubbing my hands together.

Faster and faster.

The sun was going down. I looked back at the house, black against the smoky sky. The light in the windows beckoned.

No.

No. No. No.

Everything about the place felt wrong. It was the kind of place you ran from, not to. Unless you're dying of exposure.

"Shit," I said, my feet crunching on the red clay path. There were footprints-tiny footprints overlapping with a second, crooked, slender set. I focused on the footprints instead of looking directly at the house, but I could feel its ominous shadow getting closer and closer. My fingertips went numb by the time I reached the front door. Going inside wasn't even a question.