Chapter 5: A Path of Shadows

The air in the study felt heavier now, as if the shadows themselves had crept closer, drawn by the weight of Evelyn's new knowledge. She sat slumped in the old chair, staring at the ledger Lucian had retrieved, its cracked leather cover resting ominously on the desk. Her mind churned with fragments of memories, the images from the ring flashing unbidden in her head. Each one left her more unsettled than the last.

Lucian stood across the room, his eyes scanning the pages of the book with an intensity that made her chest tighten. He hadn't spoken since they returned from the vault, but the lines of tension in his posture said enough. Whatever he was finding in the ledger, it wasn't good.

Finally, he straightened, closing the book with a dull thud. The sound seemed to echo in the confined space, making Evelyn flinch. She watched as he turned to face her, his expression grim.

"It's worse than I thought," he said.

"Worse how?" Evelyn asked, her voice trembling despite her attempt to sound steady. "What does it say?"

Lucian hesitated, his eyes flicking toward the book as though it might spring to life and attack him. "The ledger… it's a record of every soul tied to this manor. Every deal made, every life lost. It's all here." He gestured to the closed book. "But there's more. The Keeper's name is here too. The one who orchestrated the curse. And, Evelyn… it's someone connected to you."

She felt the blood drain from her face. "Connected to me? How?"

Lucian hesitated again, his expression pained. "It's your aunt. Eliza Carrington."

Evelyn's breath caught. "That's impossible. She died years ago. When I was a kid."

"Did she?" Lucian countered, his voice low but pointed. "Or is that just what they wanted you to believe?"

Her mind reeled. Memories of her aunt flickered through her thoughts—faint and fragmented, like glimpses through a foggy window. She remembered Eliza as a mysterious figure, always distant and secretive, but undeniably charismatic. The idea that she could still be alive, let alone behind something as horrific as this curse, was unthinkable.

"No," Evelyn said firmly, shaking her head. "It doesn't make sense. Why would she do this? Why would she involve me?"

Lucian sighed, leaning against the desk. "Because she needed you. The ritual required someone pure of heart. Someone who would act out of love, not selfishness. That's why she manipulated you. She used your desperation to save me."

Evelyn's stomach churned. "So what do we do now?"

"We find her," Lucian said. His voice was calm, but his eyes burned with a determination that sent a shiver down Evelyn's spine. "She's still tied to this manor. She has to be. If we can confront her, we might be able to force her to tell us how to break the curse."

"And if she doesn't?" Evelyn asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lucian's jaw tightened. "Then we make her."

The west wing was colder than the rest of the manor, the chill sinking into Evelyn's bones as she and Lucian made their way through its dimly lit corridors. The air here felt heavier, charged with an energy that made her skin crawl. Every creak of the floorboards underfoot, every flicker of the shadows on the walls, set her nerves on edge.

Lucian moved ahead of her, his steps slow and deliberate. He carried a small lantern they had found in the study, its flickering light casting eerie shapes on the walls. Evelyn followed closely, her hands clenched into fists at her sides to stop them from shaking.

"What exactly are we looking for?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"There's a chamber at the end of this wing," Lucian replied without looking back. "It's where she performed the ritual. If she's still tied to this place, that's where we'll find her."

Evelyn nodded, though her stomach twisted at the thought. The idea of confronting her aunt—assuming she really was alive—was terrifying. But she pushed the fear aside, focusing instead on the faint warmth of Lucian's presence ahead of her.

The hallway stretched on, each step feeling heavier than the last. The shadows seemed to grow thicker the farther they went, pressing in around them like living things. Evelyn swore she could hear whispers, faint and fleeting, just beyond the edge of her hearing.

"Lucian," she said softly, her voice trembling. "Do you hear that?"

He stopped, glancing back at her. "Hear what?"

"The whispers," she said. "It's like… like someone's talking, but I can't make out the words."

Lucian's expression darkened. "Ignore it," he said. "They're trying to distract you. To scare you."

"Well, it's working," Evelyn muttered under her breath.

They continued on, the whispers growing louder as they approached a large wooden door at the end of the hallway. The door was carved with intricate symbols, similar to the ones they had seen in the vault. But these symbols seemed darker somehow, more ominous. Evelyn felt a wave of nausea as she stared at them, the shapes seeming to twist and writhe under her gaze.

"This is it," Lucian said, his voice low. He placed his hand on the door, muttering something under his breath. The symbols flared brightly for a moment before fading, and the door creaked open.

The chamber beyond was vast and circular, its walls lined with shelves filled with dusty tomes and strange artifacts. In the center of the room was a large stone altar, its surface stained dark with something Evelyn didn't want to think about. The air was thick with the smell of earth and decay, and the faint glow of candles cast long, flickering shadows across the room.

Evelyn's breath caught as she stepped inside. The air felt alive, buzzing with an energy that made her skin prickle. She turned to Lucian, her heart pounding. "What now?"

Before he could answer, a voice echoed through the chamber, cold and sharp as a blade.

"So, you've come at last."

Evelyn froze, her eyes darting toward the source of the voice. A figure emerged from the shadows at the far end of the room, draped in a dark cloak that seemed to shimmer in the candlelight. As the figure stepped closer, Evelyn's breath caught in her throat.

It was her aunt.

"Eliza," Lucian said, his voice hard. "We know what you've done. It's over."

Eliza laughed, the sound chilling and hollow. "Over? My dear boy, it's far from over. If anything, it's just beginning."

Evelyn felt a surge of anger, cutting through her fear. "Why?" she demanded, her voice shaking. "Why did you do this? Why did you use me?"

Eliza turned to her, a cruel smile twisting her lips. "Because you were the perfect pawn," she said. "So full of love, so desperate to save him. You never even questioned it. You gave me exactly what I needed."

Evelyn's hands clenched into fists. "You used me to curse this place. To trap all these souls."

"To save our family," Eliza corrected, her voice cold. "You think the Carrington name holds power by accident? Everything we have, everything we are, is because of this manor. Because of the curse."

Lucian stepped forward, his body tense. "It ends now," he said. "You're going to tell us how to break it."

Eliza's smile widened. "And why would I do that?"

Evelyn felt a surge of defiance, her fear melting away. She stepped forward, her voice steady despite the trembling in her limbs. "Because if you don't, we'll destroy everything you've built. This house, this curse—everything. You won't have anything left."

For a moment, Eliza's expression faltered. But then her smile returned, colder and sharper than before. "You're welcome to try," she said. "But be warned: the price of freedom is higher than you can imagine."

The room seemed to darken, the shadows closing in around them. Evelyn's heart raced as she prepared for whatever came next. Whatever the cost, she knew one thing: she wasn't going to let her aunt win.