MARIONETTE: A Supernatural Horror (Dark Carousel Book 3) by Anya Allyn

Author:Anya Allyn [Allyn, Anya]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-02-10T00:00:00+00:00

17. NIGHT OF THE CHANGE

Something—someone—moved below me. A balcony with tapered columns looked skeletal in the dark light. A figure sat on the edge of the balcony wall. He drank from a bottle, the breeze shifting his white shirt about his body.

He turned his face sharply upward, as though he sensed me. “Cassie!”

It was Zach’s voice. I didn’t answer.

“Jump down here,” he commanded me.

I shook my head. The jump was not far—about eight feet—but the balcony was to the left of me. If I missed, I’d be sent tumbling hundreds of feet down the cliff.

“It’s okay. Just do it. You can’t stay there.” He reached over the side of the balcony, extending his hand. His voice was slightly slurred.

Any movement I made was going to rock this stone block that I was crouched on. Even trying to head back could make it fall. If the castle moved again while I stayed here, I would lose my balance completely.

My head swam as I readied myself to jump. The tablets Dr. Verena had given me made everything seem to zoom away.

The night sky tipped over me as I sprang from the block. I had the sensation that I was both falling and that I was tumbling on the hard stone floor of the balcony. I didn’t know which sensation was my true fate until I felt Zach’s hands under my shoulders, helping me to my feet.

I breathed deeply, my heart racing. Bending over the balcony wall, I let the salty ocean wind rush into my lungs. I wanted every bit of that tainted dungeon air out of me.

“Are you okay?” he asked, still holding me.

I nodded, catching my breath.

Zach pulled me close. “Come dance with me, Cassie, like you did that night on Whitehaven beach.”

“Are you crazy?” My voice was low, almost a whisper.

His eyes were slightly unfocused, as though he’d been sitting here drinking for quite a while. He smelled of red wine and the ocean. “I just want you. If wanting you makes me crazy, then so be it.”

“You’re drunk.” I moved away from him.

“So are you. And you were so drunk at the dinner table the first night you came here, I had to carry you to bed.” He held up his bottle of red wine, taking a swig from it. “Let’s get more drunk, together.”

“That was you who carried me out of there?” I folded my arms in tight. My body felt sore from the tumble along the stone floor, but mostly numb. “I’m not drunk.”

He peered at me. “Well, you don’t look like yourself.” He straightened, seeming to sober up a little. “Hey, what were you doing there in the dungeons? That’s . . . not a place you want to be.”

“The castle moved its floors and walls. And I ended up down there.” I eyed him in confusion. “How is the castle shifting about? How’s that even possible?”

He stared downward. “Almost all of the internal walls and floors can move. When I was a kid, I used to wander for hours during the time of the désorienter, as it’s called.

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