We’re in the homestretch now. Let’s see what the House has in store for Aurora this week and what The Insecure Writers’ Support Group has in the way of a question for November.
(If you’re interested in the previous installments of this story, here are the links; First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth.)
Aurora looked up at the sound of pounding feet on the cellar stairs. She blinked at the sudden brightness. John Garth stood with a blazing torch over his head, his eyes scanning the dim interior until he found her. “Aurora.” He rushed across the room.
“Stay back!” the house screamed.
“Leave,” Aurora said, her voice barely a whisper. “This house always has its way.”
“Not today.” He struck at the machine with his torch. The metal and wires curled like singed tentacles, recoiling from the flames. Sparks skittered along the floor, igniting tiny fires. Ripping Aurora’s cuffs open, he used their sharp edges to hack at the wall that held her captive. The stones cracked, and he yanked her free. “Today, I have my way.”
The room compressed then expanded, hurling the doctor from Aurora. “No. You will never have your way here!” The house shrieked.
Aurora struggled to stand, but she collapsed to the floor. Blood from the wound at her side had seeped into her gown and feathered cape. Drop by drop her life spattered onto the floor. The regular pat, pat, pat came to her from a distance.
“Open your eyes, Aurora.” John Garth’s cooling breath blew across her forehead, and the burning in her body eased. “We can escape him.”
When she looked up, his intense eyes stared down at her. “First, I’m stopping the bleeding.” He quickly set to ripping the hem of her gown. Gently he slipped the fabric around her waist and bound the wound.
“I’ve endangered you,” she said, holding his hand. “I should not have done that.”
“No, you have not. I waited until you chose to free yourself from this place, and then I came. My being here was of my choosing. You are not alone anymore. We can fight this thing, Aurora. And we can win.”
The voice she’d heard in the ballroom was back, and this time, she recognized it as the one she’d always imagined should her gryphon speak to her.
He ran his hand down her bruised arms and leaned close. Her pain eased, her head cleared, and she pulled herself to her feet.
Tremors shot up the walls and across the floor. An overhead support crashed down and struck the doctor across the back. He fell forward onto the stone floor and lay still.
“So nice of you to come, doctor. I will enjoy watching your metamorphosis as much as hers.”
“No!” Aurora stuck out with fists that connected with nothing but air. With unexpected strength, she cast the heavy wood beam from John Garth’s back, then kneeling, pulled him to his feet. All of the small fires scattering along the floor came together in a rush and roared to life around them. Flames shot up the walls, blocking the stairs.
“It’s impossible to escape me,” the house raged.
“Everything is possible now.” She grasped John Garth’s hand. With a nod of agreement, they leapt over the flames and up the stairs. The door at the top slammed in front of them, shuddering the walls.
“You are trapped!” the house screamed.
Aurora looked back into the inferno. “No. It is you who are trapped. Trapped and damned,”
Together, they hurled themselves at the door. Once. Twice. The third time it shattered, and the servants, who huddled in the hallway, fell back in terror, then recovered quickly. Maid Mannerly and Livy flung buckets of water down into the cellar. Cook and Mr. Weebly came from the kitchen with two more.
“Let it burn,” Aurora shouted. “Let this devil die.”
The doctor sought her gaze and held it. “Are you certain this is what you want? We can still stop the fire from spreading to the upper floors.”
“I’m very certain.”
“Then so be it.”
They ran outside with the heat intensifying at their backs and gazed, transfixed, at Havenwood House being swept up in flames. Cook patted her forehead with the handkerchief she always kept tucked in her bosom. Livy, her chin quivering, swiped her eyes. Mr. Webbly wrapped one arm around Miss Mannerly’s shoulders.
“Come,” Aurora said, “We need to distance ourselves from this pyre.”
They made their way down to where the gryphon had always stood guard over the terraced lavender garden, but now that place was empty.
“No!” She turned in a frantic circle, searching. He could not be gone. He had to be near. The house could not have destroyed her one true friend.
“Aurora.” John Garth took her hand. “All is well. Don’t be afraid.
Looking up into his sharp-featured but beautiful face, she recognized what she’d missed until this moment. He drew her close so her head was pressed to his chest, and the sound of his heart took her back to when she was a child and her gryphon comforted her. Like a conquered phantom, the fear that had possessed her since she could remember vanished.
Along with the others, she returned her attention to the house. Even from this distance, they couldn’t escape the brutal sounds of exploding glass. When flames licked out of the windows, and agonized screams shook the air, they shrank back from the house in its death throes.
The night sky became like dawn when the roof ignited and Havenwood House crumbled into ashes. This moment was payment for the women who had suffered in that joyless house and died before their time. This was the end of that wretched curse handed down from generation to generation.
Her feathered cloak flared out in a rush of wind. John Garth tightened his arm around her shoulder, and she felt the power of the two of them together.
“I’ve wanted to be with you all my life,” she whispered.
“You have always been with me, Aurora, and you always will be.”
The End
Ahhh. Was that sweet or what? So there you have it! What did you think? Did the ending work? I wrote it two different ways but chose this one that was grounded in a touch more reality.
And now for the First Wednesday Question from…
The awesome co-hosts for the November 6 posting of the IWSG are Diedre Knight, Lisa Buie Collard , Kim Lajevardi, and JQ Rose!
Every month, we announce a question that members can answer in their IWSG post. These questions may prompt you to share advice, insight, a personal experience or story. Include your answer to the question in your IWSG post or let it inspire your post if you are struggling with something to say.
Remember, the question is optional!
November 6 question - What creative activity do you engage in when you're not writing?
For one, I read. I think that’s creative. I also love to redesign my garden. It’s so rewarding to make changes in one season and see the results in the next. I do a lot of experimenting in the kitchen. I might start with a recipe, but then I get carried away with, “What if I added…?” Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t. Cooking is a lot like writing in that way.
Quote of the Month: “A creative life is an amplified life. It's a bigger life, a happier life, an expanded life, and a hell of a lot more interesting life” – Elizabeth Gilbert
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