Read Online Whisper of Souls: A Prophecy of the Sisters Novella by Michelle Zink - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Michelle Zink
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difficult. If you love me, simply smile and say good night and retire to your chamber as if this were any other night.”
Ginny hesitated, her eyes filling with tears. She finally nodded. “Good night, Addy.”
Adelaide smiled. “Good night, Ginny. I will see you soon.”
She squeezed her sister’s hand and turned, ascending the stairs.
Adelaide had water brought to her chamber for a bath. She added the last of her lavender oil, undressing and lowering herself into the steaming copper tub in front of the firebox. Leaning her head back and closing her eyes, she attempted to empty her mind.
The water was hot. It worked to loosen the knots in her neck and shoulders. The scent of lavender rose to fill her nose, and she breathed a sigh of contentment and sunk deeper into the bath, letting her mind drift.
She was floating through darkness, her worldly cares no longer a burden, no longer a thought. The air around her was soft and warm. It glided sensuously across her skin, enveloped her in a cocoon of pleasure and release. She allowed herself to let go, to release every vestige of worry. Something called her forward, a warm presence prompting her to stay. She continued drifting, the world of Thomas and the children and the prophecy growing further and further away.
Here, it seemed, everything would be all right.
Then, all at once, it was difficult to breathe. The air that had been close and comforting was now heavy and liquid, difficult to inhale. She gasped as she tried to get enough oxygen. Thrashing, her limbs hit against something hard and unforgiving, and when she opened her eyes, she saw the ceiling through a warped layer of water three inches above her head.
She grabbed on to the sides of the tub, pulling herself out of the bath, sputtering and coughing, instinctually trying to eliminate the water from her body. She began to shiver. Standing took great effort, and she grabbed the blanket from atop the chair, almost falling to the floor as she tried to step out of the copper bathtub. When at last she was free of the water, she lay on the floor, wrapped in the blanket, shaking from fear and shock. Her hair was splayed around her in wet ropes, water pooling under and around her naked body.
She had been traveling. Had been called to the Plane by Samael under the guise of escape.
Under the guise of relief.
He had used her own exhaustion, her own growing apathy, and she had nearly succumbed.
Rising from the floor, still clutching the blanket, she forced herself to a standing position, bracing herself against the chair while she got her footing. Then, remembering her promise to her husband, she crossed the room to the wardrobe.
She pulled out her most beautiful nightdress and dressing gown, purchased for her by Thomas on his last trip to Ireland. It had never been worn.
Adelaide dried off and pulled the dressing gown over her head, allowing the ivory silk to drape across her body. The gown was fine indeed, trimmed in green satin and delicate Irish lace.
She touched a hand to it, regretful that she had not worn it sooner. That she had not cherished every possible moment with Thomas when she was still coherent enough to savor it.
She shook her head, banishing the thought.
She made her way to the looking glass and brushed her hair. Then she reached into the top drawer of the bureau and pulled out the medallion. She fastened it around her wrist in a vain attempt to take it with her, to keep it from her daughter, though deep down, she knew there was no point.
The medallion would find its Gate, as it always had. As it always would.
Still, she would try.
There was one more thing that must be done before she went to Thomas, and she sat down at the writing table and picked up the quill.
My Dearest Lia…
She was already in Thomas’s bed when he entered his chamber. Despite her earlier promise, his eyes lit with surprise when he saw her. That her presence in his chamber should be so unexpected made
Ginny hesitated, her eyes filling with tears. She finally nodded. “Good night, Addy.”
Adelaide smiled. “Good night, Ginny. I will see you soon.”
She squeezed her sister’s hand and turned, ascending the stairs.
Adelaide had water brought to her chamber for a bath. She added the last of her lavender oil, undressing and lowering herself into the steaming copper tub in front of the firebox. Leaning her head back and closing her eyes, she attempted to empty her mind.
The water was hot. It worked to loosen the knots in her neck and shoulders. The scent of lavender rose to fill her nose, and she breathed a sigh of contentment and sunk deeper into the bath, letting her mind drift.
She was floating through darkness, her worldly cares no longer a burden, no longer a thought. The air around her was soft and warm. It glided sensuously across her skin, enveloped her in a cocoon of pleasure and release. She allowed herself to let go, to release every vestige of worry. Something called her forward, a warm presence prompting her to stay. She continued drifting, the world of Thomas and the children and the prophecy growing further and further away.
Here, it seemed, everything would be all right.
Then, all at once, it was difficult to breathe. The air that had been close and comforting was now heavy and liquid, difficult to inhale. She gasped as she tried to get enough oxygen. Thrashing, her limbs hit against something hard and unforgiving, and when she opened her eyes, she saw the ceiling through a warped layer of water three inches above her head.
She grabbed on to the sides of the tub, pulling herself out of the bath, sputtering and coughing, instinctually trying to eliminate the water from her body. She began to shiver. Standing took great effort, and she grabbed the blanket from atop the chair, almost falling to the floor as she tried to step out of the copper bathtub. When at last she was free of the water, she lay on the floor, wrapped in the blanket, shaking from fear and shock. Her hair was splayed around her in wet ropes, water pooling under and around her naked body.
She had been traveling. Had been called to the Plane by Samael under the guise of escape.
Under the guise of relief.
He had used her own exhaustion, her own growing apathy, and she had nearly succumbed.
Rising from the floor, still clutching the blanket, she forced herself to a standing position, bracing herself against the chair while she got her footing. Then, remembering her promise to her husband, she crossed the room to the wardrobe.
She pulled out her most beautiful nightdress and dressing gown, purchased for her by Thomas on his last trip to Ireland. It had never been worn.
Adelaide dried off and pulled the dressing gown over her head, allowing the ivory silk to drape across her body. The gown was fine indeed, trimmed in green satin and delicate Irish lace.
She touched a hand to it, regretful that she had not worn it sooner. That she had not cherished every possible moment with Thomas when she was still coherent enough to savor it.
She shook her head, banishing the thought.
She made her way to the looking glass and brushed her hair. Then she reached into the top drawer of the bureau and pulled out the medallion. She fastened it around her wrist in a vain attempt to take it with her, to keep it from her daughter, though deep down, she knew there was no point.
The medallion would find its Gate, as it always had. As it always would.
Still, she would try.
There was one more thing that must be done before she went to Thomas, and she sat down at the writing table and picked up the quill.
My Dearest Lia…
She was already in Thomas’s bed when he entered his chamber. Despite her earlier promise, his eyes lit with surprise when he saw her. That her presence in his chamber should be so unexpected made
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