The walk back from the high tower had been entirely too quiet. Mostly because my brain had completely stopped working.
When we finally pushed the front door open and walked into the house, the main room was totally still. The fire in the hearth had burned down to glowing red coals, casting long, lazy shadows across the floor. On the big rug by the warmth, Pearl and Des were already fast asleep. Des was snoring softly, curled up with his coat bunched under his head like a pillow, while Pearl was wrapped in three different blankets, completely dead to the world.
At least they aren't awake to look at me with those smug, knowing grins. I let out a tiny breath of relief.
Now, standing by my bedroom door just up the stairs, the silence felt heavy. The noise from the festival downstairs had finally died out completely. There was nothing left but the smell of old smoke and cold air.
