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yanked open the door and
stepped back into the hallway, closing the door behind me. I looked
into the direction of the rickety staircase and, convincing myself
that I had probably done enough exploring for the day, I headed
back down the stairs and left the forbidden wing behind me. Maybe
that old cow Ms. Payne had done me a favour by forbidding me to go
up there.
    I reached the
bottom landing and once back in daylight, I blew out the candle.
How had I been so easily spooked after everything I had seen and
been through in the last year? After all, I was the dead one around
here. I was the ghost stalking the stairwells and passageways. What
did I have to be scared of? So, feeling embarrassed at myself, I
decided not to tell the others what I had found up in the forbidden
wing - especially not Potter - he really would take the piss and he
didn’t need too much encouragement to do that.
    So pushing the
thoughts of that dumb statue from my head, I went in search of
Kiera’s iPod. I needed to drown out my soundtrack - I needed to drown everything out.
     

Chapter Six
     
    Kiera
     
    As I crossed
the lawn in front of the manor, my boots left footprints in the
frost that covered the grass. Before I had died, I would have
expected to see plumes of breath escaping from my mouth and
disappearing up into the cold morning air, but that didn’t happen
now. Not since I had come back. It was like I was colder on the
inside than the icy cold wind that blew about me.
    Before entering
the woods, I looked back at the manor. It sat like a giant grey
shell, its walls ancient-looking and covered in ivory like greedy,
green-coloured hands. But as I looked back I noticed for the first
time that all of the tarpaulin had been removed. The last time I
had been at Hallowed Manor, the Forbidden Wing had been undergoing
extensive repairs. The windows were still boarded up but there had
been several skips surrounding that part of the manor, all of them
filled with rubble. As I turned away, I wondered if Potter had
removed them in an attempt to keep himself busy.
    Although most
of the trees had shed their leaves, there were still enough Fir and
Conifers to cast the woods into a gloomy darkness. I passed amongst
them, heading away from the manor in the direction that I had seen
Potter head in. I came across the group of weeping willows that
stood before me like a cluster of elderly people with curved backs.
From within them I could hear the sound of wood breaking. Gently, I
parted the branches of one of the willow trees and peered into the
tiny graveyard where the half-breeds had been buried over the years
when the Vampyrus had lived above ground. I hadn’t been back here
since watching Murphy carry the bodies of his two dead daughters to
this secluded place. With his back to me, I spied on Potter as he
broke two thick branches over his knee. Then, with a piece of
twine, he tied the two pieces of wood together to make a large
cross. Silently, he made his way towards the other graves. I
watched him as he skewered the bottom of the cross into the ground.
When he had fixed it securely, he stepped back from it and looked
at the cross. I knew who he was remembering and it filled me with
sadness.
    I pushed the
branches of the weeping willows aside and made my way quietly
towards him. As if hearing my approach, he looked over his shoulder
at me then back at the cross he had made. Without saying anything,
I stood next to him. Then taking Murphy’s crucifix and chain from
around my neck, I hung it over the cross that he had fixed into the
ground.
    “Murphy would
have wanted you to keep it,” Potter said without looking at me. “He
would have wanted you to be safe.”
    “Do I have to
worry about vampires now?” I asked him, my voice low as if I were
in a church.
    “Who knows what
dangers lay ahead,” he said, turning to look at me. His eyes were
dark and looked troubled.
    “What’s wrong,
Potter?” I asked him, reaching out and brushing his thick