It's the next morning when Taylor sees Rory's ghost sulking in the kitchen, tears wet on his cheeks and Audrey's name a weak plea. She thinks he left her for Brad Pitt, but Taylor's not going to be the one to tell her that her husband's dead. She ignores him and grabs some lunch meat out of the refrigerator before going to the living room, plopping down on the couch near Dominic. The actor is tall and broad through the shoulders, sharing no common features with Mattie other than his skin tone. He's funny though and he doesn't mind her watching Harry Potter on repeat.
"Shouldn't you be eating something healthier for breakfast?"
"Shouldn't you stop harassing my aunt for ratings?"
"Give me some of that." He takes a slice of ham from her, stuffing his mouth so he doesn't have to answer any questions. Taylor lets him for now but watching people squirm has become something of a pastime for her. What's better than having total control over someone? Nothing.
Well, it's second to gummy worms.
Nico comes into the room a few minutes later, stealing some of the lunch meat before heading outside. It's not really surprising, he's used to having a full caseload, something to keep his brain busy, and there's none of that out here in the boonies. Taylor's just happy they have Netflix out here.
She and Dominic are halfway through Prisoner of Azkaban when the screaming starts, Taylor dashing up the stairs before her mind catches up with her. Screaming in general is usually a bad thing, but the blood-curdling scream of her aunt in this place means attempted murder.
"Aunt Shel!" Dominic sprints past her and into the bedroom, an accented woman beginning to yell soon afterwards. What greets Taylor is like a punch to the gut, her aunt covered in gushing blood and an older woman wielding a cleaver. "Aunt Shel…." She feels sick, the room seeming to spin around her as her knees give out.
"Where the fuck did she go? Taylor!" Her head snaps up, one hand covering her mouth and teeth clenched shut to keep her breakfast down. "Where'd Agnes go? Did you see her?" She shakes her head, looking from where Shelby is sobbing on the floor to the large shards of glass that are scattered around like ice.
"I don't- I don't know. The Butcher—"
"That wasn't the Butcher. Go downstairs and tell someone we need some help up here."
"Help! Mattie! Dad!" Audrey's the one that comes running, shooing Taylor out of the room when she sees what's happened. That's fine with her, she'd much rather freak out in the hallway where it's mercifully blood-free.
"What's going on," Matt asks, bounding up the stairs two at a time.
"Someone stabbed Shel. They got her really bad, Mattie." He peeks inside and then he's yelling down the hall for someone to call an ambulance. "What're we gonna do? We're gonna die. They're gonna kill us. We're gonna—" Matt shakes her once, hard enough for her teeth to snap together.
"We're gonna be just fine, baby. Why don't you head downstairs and visit with Edward while I help Shelby? I'm sure he's missed being annoyed even if he won't admit it." She nods, sniffling, and latches onto the idea like it's a lifebuoy and she's drowning. Edward's waiting for her at the foot of the stairs, ready to guide her away from panicking voices and down into the basement.
"She's really hurt."
"I know," Edward says, settling her down on the cot Matt's claimed. "But it wasn't the dead that hurt her. It seems the Chens are still wary after that stunt you pulled the last time you were here."
"I don't think I can do that again. God, I feel so weak and shaky."
"Yes, that's because you were having a panic attack. I used to get them all the time, it's nothing to worry about. My artwork used to calm me down." A crease appears between his brows and then he's off like a shot, digging through old boxes of junk until he pulls out a familiar book of poetry. "Here, read this to me."
She flips through the book until she finds one of her favorites, the last passage reminding her of this place. It used to be a palace, still is in a way, but it's rotting away and filling with the dead.
"And travelers, now, within that valley, through the red-litten windows see vast forms that move fantastically to a discordant melody," she reads. "While, like a ghastly rapid river, through the pale door a hideous throng rush out forever, and laugh—but smile no more."
"I love that one. The best by far, though, is Eldorado."
"Gaily bedight, a gallant knight, in sunshine and in shadow, had journeyed long, singing a song, in search of Eldorado."
"Alright, I get it. You've had this book nearly memorized since you were six. There's no need to gloat." She beams up at him, the tremors easing little by little until she can breathe again, chest no longer so tight. "Recite that one for me. It's been so long since I've heard another's voice and I have a feeling that you'll no longer butcher it."
"Gaily bedight, a gallant knight, in sunshine and in shadow, had journeyed long, singing a song, in search of Eldorado. But he grew old—this knight so bold—and o'er his heart a shadow—fell as he found no spot of ground that looked like Eldorado. And, as his strength failed him at length, he met a pilgrim shadow—'Shadow,' said he, 'Where can it be—this land of Eldorado?'"
"'Over the Mountains of the Moon, down the Valley of the Shadow, Ride, boldly ride,' the shade replied,—'If you seek for Eldorado!'"
They trade the book back and forth for the better part of an hour, each of them taking turns on reciting and giggling when one of them trips up. Her guardian spirit was made for dramatic readings like this, making grand gestures with his hands and acting out parts. It keeps Taylor wholly distracted until Nico pokes his head through the doorway.
"Princess, you down there?"
"Yeah," she calls up to him, standing up and walking into the light.
"We're coming down to use the tunnels, so tell Edward not to freak out." She turns to look at her friend, biting back a worried frown at the way he flickers in and out of view. She has a word for that expression now, he's anxious.
"I guarantee nothing." Nico scowls but gestures for some of the others to come down and following after them. "What are you guys doing?"
"Going to find Sidney and drag his ass back here," Monet grouses, helping Nico shoulder aside the old frame in front of the tunnel door. Audrey and Lee are the ones to pry it open before heading inside.
"Is Aunt Shel okay?"
"She will be. We're gonna get her some help."
"Just go upstairs and stay where Matt can see you," Nico says. "I'll be gone and hour, two at the most." She's ready to argue, but his expression translates into do what I said or no Cutthroat Kitchen for a month and she doesn't need that kind of stress in her life. She trudges up the stairs and into the dining room, Dominic leaning against the table and staring into a glass of booze.
"I thought you weren't supposed to drink that stuff until five."
"Shit happens," he remarks, knocking it back and setting the glass on the table. "You okay?"
"Yeah, Edward helped me."
"Right, the dead guy." She tilts her head to the side, trying to get a read on him. It used to be easy for her, grasping at peoples' thoughts and plucking them like flowers to see what was going on in their heads. Now Taylor's lucky to pick up their moods. It's fading, just like everything else, and all she can get is a vague idea.
"Are you guys ever gonna get out of the Nile?"
"Denial, kid. And I'm not denying anything except for the fact that you were brainwashed into thinking what your family told you to."
"Try and say that when the Butcher kicks you down the stairs because you had the nerve to stand up to her." She glances down at her left arm, running her fingers over her wrist where Eve usually sits. It's weird not to have the snake there when she's out of school. "How's Aunt Shelby?"
"She'll be fine once we get an ambulance out here. Audrey was able to slow the bleeding with a tourniquet." Taylor's attention turns to the window, the sun sinking lower and lower into the sky. "Tell me about Edward."
"What?"
"He's the dude that built this place, right? I think I need to know about him."
"I know you're trying to distract me."
"I'll give you ten bucks if you start talking and stay out from under Matt's feet."
"Done." She sits at the table and begins to ramble, spouting out all the information she can remember. She tells him about Edward's first two nights in the house, about the lost colony that should never have been here, and about the dead psychic that likes to hang out in the downstairs bathroom. She tells him everything, and by the time she's run out of words the quarter moon is high in the sky and her dad hasn't come back.
Taylor's not entirely sure when it happened, but she fell asleep at some point and a nightmare smeared with red and grey woke her up screaming. "Mattie," she shrieks, chest heaving as she tries to scramble out of her bed. "Mattie, no! Uncle Matt!" Edward's next to her in an instant, cold hands pushing on her shoulders until she's stopped flailing.
"There's nothing you can do to help your uncle," he says, a touch of sadness in his voice. "It's already done."
"But…. But I have to—"
"What you have to do is survive. The mob will be here within the hour and there's still twenty-four hours to go before they retreat into the woods for the next year." She sucks in a deep breath and digs her fingernails into her scalp, the pain helping her to focus. "I will watch over your uncle now, as much as I hate the thought, and I'll not let him be forced into the Butcher's service."
"He already belongs to the witch of the wood. It's too late."
"Scáthac is powerful, but I'm stubborn. There's a reason I've been able to hold out for so long. And to think my family's priest thought such a thing would never help me."
There are footsteps on the stairs and then going into the room across the way, Shelby's hitching sobs making Taylor's chest sting all the more. The strings around her heart, the ones she thought were just imaginary last year, have all been pulled taunt, one of them hanging in tatters instead of whole.
She pushes her hair off her face and slides off the bed, grabbing Eve as she goes. The adder isn't too pleased with the arrangement, but calms when she's settled over Taylor's neck. The pair cross the landing to the bedroom, finding Dominic standing in the doorway of the connected bathroom.
"Hey, kiddo," he says, doing his best to keep his voice steady. "What's up? Were you having a nightmare?"
"No."
"You were screaming."
"I screamed because Shelby killed my uncle with a crowbar." She moves over to the bed and curls up in the center of it, glaring ahead of her at the wall. The sick writhing in her belly is slowly being clouded over by anger, a cold-burning rage that makes her want to hurt someone.
"How did you—?"
"Because I was shown it by my cousin. He doesn't hide anything from me." A sudden flare of light outside draws Dominic to the window, a pinched expression making him look ugly for the first time since he showed up. "What?"
"Agnes is outside with a fucking torch and gas cans." Taylor goes to stand next to him and Shelby joins them after a moment, watching as Agnes screams up at the house in Gaelic. She looks nothing like the real Butcher, Taylor realizes that now, but it's the Blood Moon and there's a chance that Thomasin will make her grand entrance soon. "Why is she filming herself?"
"Because she's nuts."
"Now, who the fuck are those people?" He points at the line of colonist making their way towards the house, torches bright in their hands as they form a semi-circle around Agnes. "Are they extras? Is this some stunt that Sidney's pulling to scare us?"
"Nope."
"How the fuck are we gonna stop them from getting inside?"
"We're not," Shelby deadpans. Below them, the crowd parts to reveal the real horror that has Agnes kneeling in reverence. The Butcher stands tall over the old woman's hunched form and doesn't even hesitate to drive her cleaver down into Agnes's head, the handle coming to a jarring stop halfway through her skull.
"Jesus fuck! What the fuck was that?" He drops to the floor, cell phone leveled towards Shelby when she slides down to join him.
"You know what that was. You've already filmed this scene."
"That was fake! I didn't sign on for real murders!"
"They're starting the bon fire," Taylor informs them, watching as the colonists space out in front of the house. They're like toy soldiers, carefully arranged by a child's hand to block anyone from leaving. Taylor can leave, though, she can go through the tunnel and walk the six miles back to town.
"W-what about that tunnel? The one under the house that the others left through?"
"Fine, but you'd better not get on Edward's bad side. He's cranky tonight."
The poems Taylor reads are The Haunted Palace and Eldorado by Edgar Allan Poe.