She stopped, watching the friendly waver of the light.
Then she looked down at the mask in her hand.
Who said that Lyssa was gone? For that matter, what of the person the red hunter had been, or perhaps been based on? It was made of mud and worms and filth. Maybe the actual person hadn’t been turned into that thing. Maybe they were used as a model of some sort.
If that was the case, the answers were inside the manor. Maybe in one of the locked rooms she couldn’t get into, or…down the stairs, to that heavy wooden door she couldn’t budge.
In the dark, Celia smiled. Now who was holding out hope? She was grasping at straws, sure, but if there was any chance at all that Lyssa was still alive, then she had to try. Celia couldn’t dash the hope of the girl’s parents while still thinking that maybe, just maybe, there was a way.
“All right then,” she muttered to herself, and turned away from the beckoning light of home.
♦ ♦ ♦
The manor was completely dark, the door firmly shut once again. There was no sign of movement, although the aura of menace that she felt looking at it was still there.
“No tricks this time,” she said, and started forward.
It occurred to her as she marched toward the large house that she was going in again unarmed. If there were still Hunters in there, she’d face them with nothing but her fists. But she didn’t believe any were present, or they would have come out with the red one. All the others had left Dunfield, and she didn’t expect them to be back before dawn at the earliest. She had plenty of time.
Climbing the steps quickly, she didn’t stop when she reached the door. Instead, she reared back and kicked forward as hard as she could. The door held for the briefest of instants, then sprang open, slamming into the wall behind. Inside, was that same dark room as before, made even more ominous by the dim light of the night.
Looking up, Celia could see no light leaking out of any of the boarded-up windows. Inside, she’d be in pitch blackness, and at the mercy of whatever could see better than her. Unarmed was one thing, blind was quite another.
She walked back down the steps and up the street, searching for some sign of light from another building. Finally, she saw a glimmer from behind heavy drawn curtains. She banged on the door and waited. Inside, she heard the furtive noise of someone trying to be quiet, but not succeeding very well.
“Hello? Please, open your door. I mean no harm.”
There was the scurry of movement and the curtain in the window twitched slightly.
“I just need a light. Please, can you help me?”
The door rattled when she knocked again, and Celia knew she could easily kick it in. But she had no desire to terrorize the people within. She merely wanted a way to see once she was inside the manor.
After a moment, there was still no answer. Celia sighed and moved away from the door. Further down the street she could see the glow of another occupied house, but what was the point? The people of Dunfield were too beat down to trust her.
Nothing for it then. She’d have to chance it and hope her memory of the layout of the place was strong. Squaring her shoulders, she turned back to the manor.
Behind her, there was the creak of a door opening.
“Are you really going in there again?” a voice asked.
Celia turned back. A young woman watched her warily from the barely opened door. She was ready to slam it shut again at the first sign of trouble.
“Yes,” Celia answered, but moved no closer. “I think I might know where those things come from.”
The woman stared at her, then slowly opened the door a little further, enough to pass out an oil lamp, already lit. Behind her a small girl watched with huge eyes.
“I don’t have much,” the woman said, “but take this.”
Celia cautiously reached forward, not wanting to move too fast and spook her. She took the lantern and looked back at the woman. She recognized her from somewhere. After a moment, it occurred to her that this was the same woman she had helped at the vendor’s cart several days ago. It seemed like a lifetime.
“Thank you,” she said.
The woman nodded, her eyes flickering to the mask in Celia’s other hand. “Thank you. For everything. I hope you’re right. And…be careful.”
She smiled shyly before shutting the door. A moment later the light behind the curtains went out. The woman may have been grateful for past help and was willing to part with an oil lamp but wanted no further part in what Celia was doing.
Still, now she had light to see by.
She returned to the manor, climbed the steps and crossed the open threshold before she could think too much about it.
The room was the same as last time. Blank, with nothing but a door across from the entrance. Celia strode across the room and opened it, finding it unlocked this time. Whatever force or entity was in charge was letting her further in.
Holding the oil lamp high, she saw that the three doors lining the hallway were now open as well. She shivered, waiting for something to emerge, but all was silence.
Slowly, she moved down the hallway, staying close to the wall. Behind her, the door to the front room stayed open, as did the main entry door. Still, nothing moved.
All of the rooms were like the front room. Empty, but for a window, boarded up, with
