The Watcher in the Shadows by Carlos Ruiz Zafón and Lucia Graves

Author:Carlos Ruiz Zafón and Lucia Graves
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780316044769
Publisher: Little, Brown and Company
Published: 2013-04-18T16:00:00+00:00

The sound of a tiny pebble hitting the windowpane interrupted her reading. Irene closed the book and peered outside. Ismael was waiting for her. As she put on a thick cardigan, the moon slid behind the clouds.

Irene looked at her mother from the top of the stairs. Once again, Simone had fallen asleep in her favorite armchair, facing the French windows that overlooked the bay. A book lay in her lap and her reading glasses had slipped down until they were poised on the end of her nose. From a wooden radio in the corner of the room came the alarming strains of a detective drama. Irene tiptoed past the sleeping Simone, slipping into the kitchen and then out into the backyard. The entire operation took only fifteen seconds.

Ismael was waiting for her outside, wearing a short leather jacket, his work trousers, and a pair of boots that looked as if they’d been all the way to war and back. The night breeze brought a chill up from the bay and sent ripples through the swaying shadows of the forest.

Irene buttoned up her cardigan and nodded in response to Ismael’s silent query. Without saying a word, the two set off along the path that cut through the trees. The rustling of the leaves in the wind muffled the distant murmur of the waves breaking against the cliffs. Irene followed Ismael through the scrub. The face of the moon could be seen only in glimpses through the tangle of clouds riding high over the bay. Halfway there, Irene gripped Ismael’s hand and didn’t let go of it until the profile of Cravenmoore rose in front of them.

At a sign from Ismael, the two stopped and hid behind a large tree that had been mortally wounded by a bolt of lightning. For a few seconds, the moon broke through the curtain of clouds, its light sweeping across the façade of Cravenmoore. Then the fleeting vision sank into darkness again, and a rectangle of golden light appeared on the ground floor of the mansion. The silhouette of Lazarus Jann could be seen standing on the threshold of the main doorway. The toymaker closed the door behind him, then walked down the steps toward the path that ran along the edge of the woodland.

“It’s Lazarus. Every night he goes for a walk in the forest,” whispered Irene.

Ismael nodded, his eyes glued to the figure of the toymaker, who was walking toward the woods, and toward them. Irene gave Ismael a panicked look. The boy let out a sigh and looked anxiously around him. They could hear the sound of Lazarus’s footsteps approaching. Ismael grabbed Irene’s arm and pushed her inside the dead tree trunk.

“Quickly!” he whispered.

Inside, the trunk smelled strongly of damp and rot. Irene felt an unpleasant tingling in her stomach. Two meters above them, she noticed a line of tiny luminous points. Eyes. She was about to scream when Ismael clamped his hand over her mouth and held it firmly shut.

“They’re only bats, for heaven’s sake! Don’t move!” he hissed as Lazarus passed by.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.