later as if she’d been there a thousand times before. Just like in her dream, the cottage was covered in vines and tangled in an overgrown mass of ivy and wisterias, making it almost camouflaged in the dense forest.
A garden full of lavender, rosemary, and other useful plants and pretty flowers complemented the vines. It looked like the garden had been maintained beautifully, but to Brenna’s knowledge, nobody had been out here in over ten years. Roses climbed the old walls and the mixed scent of blooming flowers gave Brenna a feeling of déjà vu.
She walked up the cobbled path to the tiny doorway and marveled at the sight of two wicker chairs, covered in cobwebs, sitting outside the door. Brenna didn’t dare to sit on the fragile chairs, fearing they would crumble with the slightest touch.
The doorway had also been home to many spiders. Brenna brushed webs away and tried the door handle. Locked. Remembering the old iron key that came in her letter telling her she had inherited the cottage; she dug her hand into her bag and searched for the key. She found it, inserted it into the lock. After a few strong twists the lock released and the door opened with a creak. Brenna made a mental note to bring some oil next time to fix the squeaky door.
A musty smell filled her nostrils as she made her way inside a dim room. She looked around and coughed. Dust covered everything inside the small cottage like a dirty brown blanket. Brenna carefully placed her things on the aged floor and walked across the wooden floorboards, narrowly avoiding a large black spider that scurried out in front of her feet. She stifled a scream and jumped up and down. “Gross, gross, gross!” She fluttered her hands in the air and took a deep breath.
Now shaking, she wiped dust from a small window. The room flooded with light, revealing old upturned furniture, and glass candle lamps blackened with age hanging from the ceiling.
From the window, she could see a tiny stable surrounded by a wooden fence. Turning away from the window, she noticed a large fireplace that had been built into the wall. The fireplace was full of debris from fires lit many years ago and had an iron grate above the coals with a black cauldron hanging above. Brenna smiled, imagining cold nights sitting around the balmy fire stirring hot soup in the big cauldron. She decided once she had cleaned up the cottage, she would have to stay here one night with Maggie and mix potions over the fireplace.
She walked towards the fireplace and shrieked as a huge black raven came charging out of the fireplace’s chimney and soared over her head. The huge bird flew into a wall, sending up a cloud of dust. The bird settled on the ground, twitching. Brenna approached it slowly and made a shushing sound. The bird let out a shy squawk and hobbled towards the fireplace and flew up the chimney.
Brenna’s racing heart settled as she relaxed her shoulders and took a deep breath. She scolded herself for being so jumpy. Then she brushed off the mass of dust that had managed to collect on her skirt and spotted a straw-filled bed in the corner. Straw burst out of the aging mattress and the bottom had collapsed. She put a hand out to feel the sturdiness of the bed when a faint whimpering invaded the room. She spun around; there was nobody there. The tipped over furniture was still lying in piles of dust and the only footprints on the dusty floor belonged to her.
“Hello?” Brenna’s voice was a tiny squeak in the weeping cottage.
She ducked down and looked under the dilapidated bed, frantically opened tall cupboards, checked under the table. The cupboards were filled with jars full of ancient-looking herbs and spices, trinkets and charms, but there was nothing to explain the crying ringing about in her ears.
The ghostlike crying stopped a few sobs later and Brenna decided to go outside to clear her head. She felt unsteady on her feet. This really was Hawthorn’s cottage from her dreams. Dazed, she decided to head back to the hotel.
Clutching her bag tightly under one arm and the box under the other, Brenna walked toward the trees and re-entered the thickness of the woods. Golden light filtered through the trees from above. She heard a swishing noise behind her and turned around, ready to face whoever had made the sound.