Forevermore Read Online Free Page A

and she turns and struts to the dining room.
    Did Elizabeth MacAllister, who might be close to a hundred, just threaten me?
    “Lost, miss?”
    I jump at this new voice. A young maid stands near me, looking at me with wide, questioning eyes.
    “Ah, no,” I respond. “Just headed to the dining room. Thanks, though.”
    The maid gives a nod, and I cross the great hall. When I push through the swinging oak doors, everyone is seated. Waiting.
    Great . I slip into my seat. As we eat, Niall and Mom discuss their plans for their day — taking care of things around the house — and Elizabeth is silent. Stone-faced. I make short work of the eggs, sausage, and toast, then announce that I’m stepping outside to go explore the grounds. Mom and Niall wave to me, and I’m relieved to escape Elizabeth’s withering gaze.
    The minute my feet crunch against the gravel outside, I startle the peacocks, and their high-pitched screeching pierces the air. The sound rattles me clear to my bones. The birds peer angrily at me from the treetops, and I quickly change my course. Who knows if they’ll charge and peck me to death? I head across the big stretch of grass — the courtyard — until I reach another path that leads to the old rectory I saw from my window.
    I button up my coat, and slip in my iPod earbuds, cranking up the volume on an Emilie Autumn song. The cold air makes my breath puff out like white smoke. Behind me, Glenmorrag Castle looms. I can picture the gruesome little gargoyles watching me as I walk.
    Soon, the rectory comes into view, and my heart quickens. What clearly used to be a grand arched entrance is now a yawning black mouth, the old gray stone swallowedup by vines and vines of gnarled, twisted ivy. I think it looks sort of beautiful. I’ve always loved ivy — not least of all because it’s my name.
    It’s not until I duck inside and glance up that I notice the roof isn’t really a roof at all. The wood has rotted away, and the entwined ivy has formed a lattice covering. Hazy light and mist filters in between the vines.
    “Hello?” I say aloud, and instantly admire the acoustics in the old building. I can’t wait to bring my strings in here. I turn off the music on my iPod, and I try the echo out once more. “Helloooo …”
    “ Leave here at once!”
    My heart stops. It’s that voice from last night. The one I heard as I was falling asleep. I’m sure of it. Adrenaline races through my body, and I look in every dark, shadowy corner but find nothing. Just me, standing in a cavernous, musty rectory more than two centuries old.
    Then the ivy moves.
    Slowly, the aged boughs begin to untwine and stretch toward me, like long, knobby witch’s fingers. I’m certain it must just be a play of the dim light.
    Until one lifts a piece of my hair.
    I scream.
    “ Leave this place or you shall die!” the voice says. It’s real.
    I run straight out of the rectory, and nearly collide with another body. I look up, gasping. I realize how hard I’m trembling.
    I see a tall gardener in scruffy brown clothes and boots. Crystal-blue eyes set in a weathered face look curiously at me. His hat sits crooked on his head. He’s holding a small shovel, and he has a pair of old gloves stuffed in his pockets.
    “What’s the hurry, lass?” he asks in a gruff voice.
    “In there,” I say, catching my breath. “Vines.”
    Bending his head toward the rectory, he looks inside, and shifts his weight.
    “Aye, there’s a heap of them in there. Watch yourself. You dunna know what sort of dangers you might encounter at Glenmorrag.”
    And with that, he turns and disappears around the building, his large rubber boots crunching the dead leaves as he goes.
    I turn and look behind me, into the rectory. The ivy vines are back as they were, tightly woven and clinging to the beamless rafters. My heart is pounding, and I’m really starting to think I’ve lost my mind. The gardener’s voicehad been too old and deep to be the voice I’d