The Thief and the Skull

~Seven - Skeletons~

A jarring thud ripped Amber from the sanctuary of sleep. The sudden and deep violence of it nearly threw her from the bed, but she regained her balance. Her eyes remained heavy, sleep clinging to her like a stubborn vine. Just as sleep beckoned, a louder thud shook the room.

“What on earth?” she groaned, throwing back the comforter in exasperation.

The light above flickered on, revealing the familiar, unwelcome sight of her surroundings: the west wing room—her gilded cage.

But something had roused her, and she needed answers. Her head groggy, she made her way to the heavy wooden door and pressed her ear against it. She tried the handle, but as expected, it remained locked. There was something happening on the other side. She could hear a distinct shuffling sound, like someone dragging something heavy.

Her mind conjured an image of Lord Ordin, dragging a chair to her doorway and settling in for a silent vigil, ensuring she could never escape. He had been distrusting of her since her arrival, so such a scenario wouldn’t surprise her in the least.

“Lord Ordin,” she called out, deliberately emphasising the “Lord” to antagonise him. He seemed incapable of understanding sarcasm, so she needed to try a more direct approach.

Silence followed, only the unsettling shuffle continued.

“Look, I know you’re there,” she sighed, tapping impatiently on the thick oak door.

Again, silence.

Frustration bubbling up, she slammed her hand against the door. “Look, I’m not going anywhere, so you might as well leave!”

Still no response.

“Arh!” she growled, thumping the door with both hands this time. “You’re so… so… so insufferable! I told you I didn’t steal the crown from you… or anyone in this land. I never stole…” She stopped short, the lie catching in her throat. She had stolen. She did steal the crown… from the Regal Eagle Museum, not from here. Although the distinction felt flimsy, even to her.

The silence stretched, thick and heavy, and the shuffling sounds had faded.

“Arh,” she shouted again, channelling all her frustration into a final, desperate act. She gathered her strength, took a few steps back, and charged at the door, slamming her shoulder against the unforgiving wood.

There was a distinct click. She stumbled back, rubbing the throbbing ache in her shoulder, and realised with disbelief, the door was unlocked.

“Finally,” she breathed, running a hand across her forehead.

She held her breath, waiting to see if anyone would appear. Maybe Olive had returned, or perhaps Lord Ordin had finally seen the error of his ways. But that felt impossible.

After a tense moment, she cautiously turned the handle and pulled the door open. Nothing and no one greeted her. Besides the flickering light above, all she saw were the cold, gleaming brass statues that lined the hallway.

“Hello?” Amber whispered, her voice swallowed by the oppressive silence.

The room was empty, but all the lights were on, revealing someone had been there. Whether it was Ordin or Olive, she couldn’t be sure. With silent steps, fortified with a need to fulfill her curiosity, she stepped out of the room.

Across from her, the brass bear-antelope hybrid stared down at her with what she imagined were accusing eyes.

She stared back at the monstrous creation and raised a finger to her lips. “Shh…”

Just as she had expected, the beast remained a silent, metallic sentinel, still guarding its silent secrets. Each step down the corridor made her heart tremble with the resonating terror. The ever-watchful eyes of each statue—a horse-deer hybrid with a lion’s tail, a penguin type beast with wings more suited to a pray mantis, stayed with her.

Where was everyone? Surely, a lord like Ordin would have servants. It was clear he cared for his sister, and he seemed too self-important to handle the upkeep of this grand mansion himself. And what about Trip? He appeared decisive. Where was he?

Amber continued her silent walk as the cold stone floor chilled her feet.

A sudden thud shattered the silence, sending a jolt of fear through her chest, a familiar dread reminiscent of her heisting days. She pressed herself against the wall, seeking refuge in the shadows, her face uncomfortably close to a portrait of a stern-faced man with a scrutinizing gaze.

She held her breath as a strange shadow scooted past her peripheral.

What is that? She edged around the corner to find a room that seemed to be this world’s example of a rumpus room. A plush couch sat in the middle, and in the light above it, she could tell it was made from fur, a dark fur, almost wolf fur. Before the couch was a fireplace. Small embers sizzled where there had been flames earlier.

What time was it? Was it still night or day, blackened out by closed shutters?

The shuffling sounds returned, and Amber froze. It was close now.

Something white, but not exactly white—a kind of ivory object—flickered in a corner.

What is that? She peered closer, her heart in her throat.

The figure turned, and an ethereal skeletal face met hers. Its empty eye sockets, black pits of swirling darkness, searching but not seeing. There was an odd scent in the air that seemed to permeate from it, some kind of musk and sulphur, making her nose scrunch in disgust. It was a skeleton, not white, but almost transparent and seemingly colourless, stripped bare, and void of any humanity.

What the! Fear consumed her, every inch of her screaming to run. Amber couldn’t breathe! This was a dream. It had to be. This entire adventure was nothing more than a nightmare!

The skeletal figure turned back towards the corner, attempting to pass through the wall, as if oblivious to its solid presence, as if it couldn’t see anything. The familiar thump followed.

Amber backed away, shaking. She spun around, her heart pounding in her chest, and fled back down the hallway. At that moment, she wished she had never met Oakley Weathersby and taken the job.

Her heartbeat echoed in her ears as she hurried to her room, fumbled with the door handle, and slammed the door shut behind her. The image seared into her mind. A skeleton. Alive! Roaming the halls of Ordin’s mansion. Had she truly seen it, or was her mind playing tricks on her? A scream was trapped in her throat, a fear unlike anything she had ever known gripping her.

“Does Ordin know there’s a skeleton in his mansion?” she wondered as she fell against the door, trembling.

She had never wanted it to see daylight as desperately as she did now.

“I’m dreaming… I’m dreaming!” She chanted as she rocked.

Lucile, Amber needed Lucile, she needed to fix her and get away… find her way back to the Whispering Woods and look for a way into her word.

Like a child scared of the bogeyman, she scrambled into bed and buried herself under the comforter.

Where were Cricket and Goose? Were they okay? Did they know of the creature that roamed the Earth mansion halls? Did Ordin and Olive know? Was that what they were worried about? Was that why Goose and Cricket had run?

Amber forced her eyes closed, hoping that it would bring her back to reality, but when she opened them again, she was still under the thick comforter in the Lord of Earth’s mansion. She continued to force her eyes closed, hoping above hope to wake up, but nothing changed. “Wake up, wake up, wake up! I didn’t see what I think I saw… I couldn’t have!”

Another thump, this time against her door, made her sit upright, clutching the comforter to her chest. Sweat trickled down the side of her face, mingling with tears that there was no fighting back.

“Amber?” Olive’s sweet voice called through the door. Her voice had returned to its natural calmness, and Amber had never been so thankful. “Are you awake?”

“Olive!” Amber screamed as she threw the comforter back and ran for the door. She had to save her from the skeleton—before it came after her, after both of them.

“Amber?” Olive said, her voice laced with confusion. “Is everything alright? You don’t sound alright.”

“Olive, run… It’s not safe!” Amber cried, throwing open the door and bursting through it, desperate to protect the girl, to protect herself.

But it wasn’t Olive she collided into, but a very solid, very masculine chest. Catching herself, she peered up to see Ordin’s dark eyes.

She bounced back and realised Olive stood beside Ordin, with shock on her face. It was the same look that was no doubt mirrored in Amber’s own.

Amber’s eyes darted between Ordin and Olive, wide with bewildered urgency. “Didn’t you see it? Why are you just standing there? We need to do… something!”

With a deep scowl, Ordin focused his gaze on her. There was a sign of exhaustion in his eyes where there had been an accusation yesterday. “What are you talking about?” he asked sharply.

Amber back peddled, her eyes wide and gestured down the corridor, only to see a stream of morning light filtering through open windows, windows she didn’t even know were there. They cast a dancing light over the bronze beasts, revealing more of their strange anatomy.

“There was a t-thing…” Amber stuttered, backing further into the room. “A skeleton thing in the room with the couch… near the fireplace!”

The siblings looked at each other was exasperation, before turning back to her.

“There’s nothing like that here, Amber,” Olive said, tilting her head in a kind of pity glance. “You must have had a nightmare,”

“This was no nightmare,” Amber defended, her voice rising. “I wish it was!”

Ordin stepped in and grabbed the doorhandle, twisting it and testing it. “This was locked…” he met her bewildered gaze. “How did you open it?”

“How did I open it?” Her surprise overshadowed her annoyance. “Shouldn’t you be more concerned with that thing in your mansion? What about your people? What if this thing kills people…?”

With a pensive look, Ordin stood back, crossing his arm over his masculine chest. “What did I tell you, Olive? Thieves have a tendency to lie.”

“I’m not a liar!” Amber roared, her frustration beyond what she could handle.

A slight smirk tugged at the corner of Ordin’s lips. “But you admit you’re a thief?”

“I never said that!” Amber argued, frustrated.

“You didn’t have to…” he added, puffing out his chest.

“Arh!” Amber growled, throwing her hands up in defeat. She grabbed Olive’s hands, this time feeling the warmth and normalcy of her touch, and stepped past Ordin, tugging Olive along with her. “If you don’t believe me, then I will have to show you.”

Behind her, Amber could swear she heard Ordin laugh, but she brushed it off, determined to prove herself.

“I think it was a dream,” Olive said as Amber released her hand. “I’ve had terrible nightmares, and sometimes I wake up and think they’re real.”

Amber stopped at the painting she had become too personal with before the creature had appeared and peered around the corner into the rumpus room. There was the room, but this time it was open and bright, the early morning sun a welcomed sight.

“This wasn’t a dream,” Amber defended, turning back to Olive. “I could swear I saw a skeleton, alive, standing in the corner!”

Olive offered a sceptical chuckle. “Oh, Amber, you really are curious… Skeletons can’t be alive.”

Her heart still hammering against her ribs, Amber stormed into the room, determined to find proof of what she had seen. She was not crazy. It was not a dream. The skeletal figure had been as real as the stone walls surrounding her. She reached the corner, pressing her hand against the cool surface, searching for any irregularity, any imperfection that might betray the creature’s presence. It had collided with the wall with considerable force.

Olive appeared at her side, her brow furrowed with concern. “What are you looking for?”

“A sign,” Amber retorted, “Proof that I wasn’t lying… that I’m not a liar!”

With a gentle touch, Olive placed her hand over Amber’s, making Amber face her. “If it counts, I don’t think you’re a liar… about anything you’ve said since you arrived.”

Amber let out a deflated breath, the tension draining from her shoulders. It seemed there was no definitive proof, no tangible evidence to support her claim. Maybe Olive was right. Maybe it had been a vivid, terrifying nightmare, conjured from the deep-seated fear of being locked away, of not having Lucile beside her. The isolation, the shadows, the strangeness of the mansion—perhaps they had conspired to create a phantom in the corner of her mind.

With a sigh, Amber stepped away from the corner. “Maybe, you’re right… I must have been a nightmare.”

Olive’s concern receded, and a radiant smile brightened her face. “Well, now that we have that sorted, we should get you dressed for breakfast.”

“Then can I see my motorbike?” She asked, her voice tinged with an urgency that belied her attempt at composure.

“You mean Lucile?” Olive asked sweetly.

“Yes,” Amber nodded, rubbing a hand over her arm to soothe the lingering shivers. “It’s all I want to do… please?”

Olive turned on her heels, and the fawn dress she wore swished around her. She peered back at Amber. “Well, come on curious girl, I have the perfect outfit waiting for you…”