Lyra had no idea why they were running toward the Hollow.
That thought hit her halfway down the road.
Someone—or something—had been following them through the woods.
They had received a note telling them to take Lyra back to the Hollow before nightfall.
And now, like idiots, they were doing exactly that.
"Wait!" Lyra shouted.
Rowan stopped several steps ahead.
Clara nearly ran into him.
"What now?" he demanded.
Lyra bent over, trying to catch her breath.
"We need to think."
Rowan stared at her.
"Think?"
"Yes."
"Something is following us."
"And we're running toward the place every strange thing in this village seems connected to."
Clara looked nervously toward the trees.
"She's right."
Rowan ran a hand through his hair.
"The Hollow is safer."
Lyra looked up.
"How do you know that?"
He didn't answer immediately.
That was answer enough.
Lyra straightened.
"Rowan."
"I just know."
"That's not good enough anymore."
The bell rang again.
All three of them went quiet.
This time, it sounded closer.
The sound rolled across the road and through the trees.
One.
Two.
Three.
Clara's face went pale.
"That's not coming from the village."
Lyra looked toward the Hollow.
The estate stood in the distance, partly hidden behind the trees.
She couldn't see the bell.
In fact, she had never noticed one before.
"Does the Hollow have a bell?" she asked.
Clara shook her head.
"Not that I know of."
Rowan's jaw tightened.
"We need to move."
"You're doing it again," Lyra said.
"What?"
"Acting like you know something."
His expression hardened.
"Maybe I do."
Clara looked between them.
"Could we have this argument somewhere that isn't surrounded by creepy woods?"
Lyra almost laughed.
Almost.
Then something moved behind them.
They all turned.
A figure stood at the edge of the trees.
It was too dark beneath the branches to see clearly.
But this time, it wasn't disappearing.
It was standing there.
Watching them.
Lyra's mouth went dry.
"Who is that?"
Nobody answered.
The figure took one step forward.
Rowan moved in front of Lyra.
She immediately grabbed his arm.
"Don't."
"What?"
"Don't pretend you're protecting me when you won't tell me anything."
"Lyra, this isn't the time."
"Then when is the time?"
The figure moved again.
Closer.
Clara whispered, "Guys..."
Lyra stared at Rowan.
He looked terrified.
Not nervous.
Not suspicious.
Terrified.
That frightened her more than anything else.
"Who is it?" she asked quietly.
Rowan looked toward the figure.
"I don't know."
Lyra searched his face.
For once, she believed him.
The bell rang again.
The figure stopped.
Everything stopped.
Even the wind.
Then the figure turned around.
And walked back into the woods.
Clara let out a shaky breath.
"That's it?"
Lyra looked at her.
"You wanted it to stay?"
"No!"
Rowan was already walking.
"Come on."
This time, Lyra didn't argue.
---
They reached the Hollow just as the first drops of rain began to fall.
Mrs. Harrow was waiting at the front door.
Lyra stopped.
The woman looked furious.
"Where have you been?"
Clara stepped forward.
"We went to see my mother."
Mrs. Harrow's face changed.
For a second, she looked genuinely afraid.
"You did what?"
Lyra folded her arms.
"Apparently, that's a problem."
"Where is she?"
"She's gone."
Mrs. Harrow's eyes moved to Clara.
"Gone?"
"We found her cottage empty."
The housekeeper's attention snapped to Lyra.
"What did you find?"
Lyra hesitated.
Rowan spoke.
"A photograph."
Lyra turned toward him.
She hadn't told him everything.
Mrs. Harrow went completely still.
"Show me."
Lyra slowly removed the photograph from her bag.
The moment Mrs. Harrow saw it, her face drained of color.
She took it from Lyra with shaking hands.
"No."
"What?" Lyra asked.
Mrs. Harrow turned the photograph over.
Her eyes moved across the back.
Then she whispered something.
Lyra couldn't hear it.
"What does it say?"
Mrs. Harrow looked at her.
"You shouldn't have brought this back."
"Everyone keeps saying things like that!"
Lyra's voice echoed through the entrance hall.
Nobody spoke.
She took a breath.
"Who is in the photograph?"
Mrs. Harrow looked down at it.
Then at Rowan.
Lyra noticed.
Rowan looked away.
Her stomach tightened.
"Why are you looking at him?"
Mrs. Harrow didn't answer.
"Mrs. Harrow."
The older woman handed the photograph back.
"You need to go upstairs."
Lyra laughed.
"No."
"Miss Lyra—"
"No."
For the first time, Mrs. Harrow looked genuinely caught off guard.
Lyra stepped closer.
"I'm tired of being treated like a child in my own house. Clara's mother knew my name. She knew I would come here. Someone followed us through the woods. There's a boy named Elias whose name everyone is terrified to say, and apparently Rowan knows things he's been hiding from me."
Rowan looked at her.
"Lyra—"
"Don't."
She held up a hand.
The bell rang.
Everyone froze.
It wasn't outside anymore.
The sound came from inside the Hollow.
One loud ring.
Then another.
Clara grabbed Lyra's sleeve.
"Where is it coming from?"
Nobody moved.
Then, slowly, Mrs. Harrow turned toward the staircase.
Her face had gone completely white.
"No," she whispered.
A third ring echoed through the house.
Tom appeared from the hallway.
He was breathing heavily.
"Mrs. Harrow."
She looked at him.
Tom's eyes moved toward the stairs.
"The west wing."
Lyra's heart began to pound.
Mrs. Harrow immediately turned to Lyra.
"Go to your room. Lock the door."
"What's happening?"
"Now!"
Lyra stared at her.
She had never heard Mrs. Harrow shout before.
Clara looked terrified.
Rowan took a step backward.
But Lyra's eyes remained fixed on the staircase.
The west wing.
The place she had been warned about.
The place connected to Elias.
And somewhere upstairs—
the bell rang again.
Lyra started toward the stairs.
"LYRA!"
She didn't stop.
Because beneath the sound of the bell, she had heard something else.
A voice.
A boy's voice.
Calling her name.
And this time...
it sounded afraid.