The Shadow in the Glass by JJA Harwood (any book recommendations txt) 📕

blood on your bedsheets the day after Mrs Cleary was discovered, and heard you come home in the middle of the night on the day Mr Pembroke was murdered. I’m surprised at you, Miss Hartley. I would’ve thought you, of all people, should know better than to underestimate a servant.’

Her head swam. A red dress flashed past; a sharp splash of blood on the ballroom floor. She flinched at the sight of it. The black-eyed woman reappeared, closer now, her smile even wider.

If you want something, my dear, you must ask for it.

Eleanor was so close now. She had money, she would be married, she could make a difference in the world. She was on the brink of leaving her past behind her and here he was, trying to drag her back towards it.

‘I never killed those people!’

She couldn’t let him do it.

‘Liar,’ he spat, ‘I know what you did. You drowned the maid—’

She wouldn’t let him take everything that mattered from her.

‘You cut Mrs Cleary’s throat—’

Time for the final wish.

‘And you slaughtered Mr Pembroke in his—’

‘I wish to be beyond the reach of law!’

There was a brief moment of stillness. Then, Eleanor’s feet tangled together, she staggered backwards and tore herself away. She gathered up her skirts and ran into the courtyard, shaking.

Eleanor sat on the edge of a fountain with her head in her hands. The taste of champagne had soured in her mouth. The courtyard was empty, but she still felt as if she was being watched.

She’d made the final wish.

The shadows shifted. Eleanor looked up into the triumphant face of the black-eyed woman. Panic rose like bile at the back of her throat.

‘So,’ Eleanor said, with a calm she did not feel, ‘this is it, then.’

The black-eyed woman smiled – had she always had so many long, thin teeth? – and the shadows curled around her. ‘Yes. It is.’

‘There must be something else you want. Here.’ Eleanor fumbled with the necklace at her throat. ‘Take this.’

A long, shadowy tendril lashed out. Eleanor jumped back, dropping the necklace.

‘Do you think your soul can be bought with a few baubles?’

‘My house, then. My clothes. My—’

The black-eyed woman held up a hand. The words died on Eleanor’s lips. Her tongue sat on the floor of her mouth, a useless slab of meat.

‘Your soul is worth far less, child. There is nothing you have done that I have not seen, no thought which was not laid bare before me. I know you better than you know yourself, and you are deeply disappointing.’

She advanced. Her shadow blossomed behind her, now squat, now clawed, now writhing.

‘Did you really think you would not make the last wish? Oh, my dear. Countless others tried before you, and none succeeded. A truly good person is a rare and glittering thing – and you, dear girl, are by no means saintly.’

She laid her fingers on Eleanor’s temple. They were so cold she flinched.

‘So many excuses,’ the woman continued. ‘I believe that’s all there is to you. You were poor, you were lonely, you were in love. So many people were cruel to you, weren’t they, my dear? Excuses will not wipe the blood from your hands.’

The black-eyed woman leant forward. Her shadow spread across the courtyard behind her.

‘But it is not love you crave, nor wealth, nor all your pretty dresses. It is power. Destruction. To hold a human being’s life in your hands – and then squeeze. How many times did you imagine throwing something at your vile guardian’s head? Did you ever picture how it would break his skin, and send the blood running down his cheeks? I know you did. I gave you the greatest gift you will ever receive, my dear. The power to make all your dreams come true. Even the ones you buried.’

Eleanor opened her mouth. She wanted to scream, to beg, to plead, but no sound came out. The black-eyed woman’s fingertips bored into her temple, and Eleanor was sure that if she kept pushing, her skull would crack.

‘Such a shame you don’t remember. Do you know, my dear, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you so – well, happy is not quite the word. Fulfilled. You had such purpose.’

Eleanor shook her head, hard. She couldn’t mean – no. It couldn’t be true, it couldn’t. Her cheeks were wet with tears. The black-eyed woman sighed.

‘Still crying, after all I have done for you?’

Eleanor found her voice. ‘You can’t take my soul. You haven’t granted my final wish.’

‘Is that all?’ The black-eyed woman raised her hand, her unnaturally long fingers ready to snap. ‘That is easily remedied.’

‘Wait!’

‘It’s far too late for that, my dear. You have made your wish. You cannot take it back.’

‘There must be something,’ Eleanor pleaded. ‘You like making bargains, don’t you? Make another. I’ll do it. Whatever it is, I’ll do it!’

The black-eyed woman considered her, hand still raised. Then, she lowered it. ‘Very well. I am not unreasonable. You thought that you could outwit me; I think that we have both acknowledged that as an impossibility. But perhaps you can outrun me.’

The black-eyed woman took her arm and led her to another part of the courtyard. From that angle, Eleanor could see the barriers around the partially excavated churchyard.

‘Did you see that charming churchyard as you came in, dear?’

Eleanor nodded, her heart pounding.

‘Well, let’s have a little race, shall we? If you can get to holy ground before the final stroke of midnight I shall release you from our bargain.’

Eleanor started towards it. The black-eyed woman’s hand clamped around her arm, cold as stone.

‘Not so fast, dearest. It would be too easy if you were to start now. No, our race will begin in the ballroom, at the moment the clock strikes twelve. If you can reach holy ground before the last bell tolls, then I will forfeit any claim I have on you and leave you in peace.’

Eleanor found her voice. ‘And if I fail?’

The black-eyed woman smiled again. This time, Eleanor saw her