Free The Autumn Castle by Kim Wilkins Page A

Then it darted up, into
     my face, like it wanted to steal my eyes. I screamed again, covering my face. When I looked, the crow had taken off out the
     window. That’s when I noticed it was open. May never slept with the window open. Her mother had a weird phobia about it.
    “Her parents burst in then, all panicked and angry with me for screaming. Then her mother said, ‘Where’s May?’ and I said
     I didn’t know, but there had been a crow in her bed.”
    “That was the day she disappeared?” Jude asked.
    Christine nodded. “Yep. The police arrived, like, nine minutes later. I’d been sent home, but the police came to speak to
     me. Dad had to translate everything for me, I was too upset to remember any German except ‘krähe’—crow.”
    “Did they figure out what the crow was doing there?”
    Christine gazed up at the window. It was firmly shut against the October drizzle. “No,” she said, “because they didn’t believe
     me. I was too little, I wasn’t a reliable witness. Everybody thought I’d made it up. At least, everybody except Mrs. Frith.”
     She pointed at the Friths’ house. “She turned up one day, about two weeks after May had gone missing. My parents were reluctant
     to let me talk to her. The poor woman was nearly insane with grief and anxiety. She smelled terrible, like she hadn’t bathed
     since it happened. She kept demanding to know . . .” She trailed off into a long silence.
    “What?”
    “It’s crazy, Jude.”
    “Go on.”
    “She kept demanding to know what the crow had said to me. It was terrifying and it sowed a seed in some dark corner of my
     mind.”
    “What it
said
to you?”
    “Yeah. Oh, Jude. If you knew what a relief it is to me to remember all this. It’s all been barricaded back there in my head,
     making me feel weird feelings and dream strange dreams. You know, I got spooked when I saw a crow the other day. I thought
     it had followed me home.” Finally she could laugh at herself. “God, I even told Mandy that it had followed me home.”
    Jude slipped an arm around her and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “Ah, don’t worry, nobody’s crazier than Mandy.”
    Christine sighed, gazing at her childhood home. “You know, I’d hardly even thought about Little May all this time.”
    “You’ve been on the other side of the world, you’ve been living your life. Being here in Berlin has made you remember things,
     that’s all.”
    “I guess you’re right. There are lots of memories for me here.” She imagined knocking on the door of her old home, and finding
     her parents inside, safe and happy and enjoying their retirement. The impossible thought brought fresh tears to her eyes.
     It was so damn unfair. She sank into Jude’s side and he pressed her against him.
    “What’s wrong, Christine?”
    “I miss them.”
    “I know.”
    “Sorry for being all emotional.”
    “It’s okay.” He stroked her hair. “It’s okay, you’re allowed to be emotional.”
    “You’re all I’ve got, Jude. Without you, I’d have nothing.”
    She felt his chest stiffen momentarily, as though he were clutching his breath against some burden, and then relax. “What’s
     wrong?” she asked, standing back.
    “Nothing’s wrong,” he said, looking puzzled. “Why do you ask?”
    “I thought . . .” Maybe she’d imagined that moment of caught breath, and everything it might have signified.
    “Look, we’re getting wet,” Jude said gently. “Do you mind if we go find a cafe somewhere?”
    “Sure. Okay, sure.” They headed back the way they had come through the misting drizzle. And even though her fingers were growing
     cold in the autumn chill, Christine tried not to clutch Jude’s hand too tightly.

    Mayfridh couldn’t remember being more frightened in her life. “You there, pack my warm cloak. And you, find that gold pin
     I wore on my birthday.” She heard her own voice shake as she ordered three servants about—she had forgotten their names, she