The tapping outside had stopped, but it did not feel gone. Instead, the room seemed to thrum in quiet anticipation, as if the air itself was aware of the intruders who dared breathe within Direford's walls.
Alex shifted the lantern slightly, casting pale, wavering light across the old woman's small room. Shadows clung to every corner, thick and heavy, and he could feel the weight of them pressing just behind his eyes.
"Do you think it's gone?" Liam whispered, almost afraid to move.
"No," the old woman said without looking up. "It never goes. It waits. Always waits."
Jordan leaned back against the wall, knees pulled to his chest. "Great. So, 'never gone,' got it. That's comforting. How long do we sit here, hoping he doesn't, you know, kill us all?"
Alex ignored the sarcasm. He was focused on a different sensation, something crawling beneath his skin like electricity. It was subtle at first, almost easy to dismiss, but as he concentrated, the feeling grew—warm, pulsing, as if his own blood was vibrating with energy.
"Do you… feel that?" he asked quietly, nudging Tara.
She froze and pressed a hand to her chest. "Yes… it's… strange. Like something is stirring. Something inside me."
Liam frowned. "You guys are not scaring me with spooky electricity. Stop. I—wait… I feel it too."
Jordan's eyes widened as he tapped his temple nervously. "Okay, now I'm freaked. Something's… happening."
The old woman's gnarled hands tightened around the edge of the table. "It is… the Veil," she whispered. "Not all who pass into this land are empty. Some… carry more than fear. Some awaken what was dormant. You are touched by it now."
"Touched by what?" Alex asked.
"The Veil," she repeated. "It flows into you, because the living who do not belong… who should not be here… sometimes gain. Sometimes it grants… power."
Tara swallowed. "Power? Like magic?"
"Not like spells," the woman said carefully. "Not yet. But… energy. Strength. Insight. The Veil tests, and it awakens. You must be careful. For every gift it gives, there is a price."
Alex flexed his hands, and the strange warmth deepened. When he tried to focus, he could feel the edges of the room differently—as if the shadows themselves were slightly malleable, as if he could sense them. The sensation thrilled him and terrified him at the same time.
Liam's voice was hoarse. "I… I feel it in my chest. Like… like I could run forever. Or lift… something huge. I… don't know what's happening."
Jordan leaned closer to the wall, fingers splayed. "I can hear it. Not… literally, but like a pulse. A heartbeat in the walls, the floor, even the air."
The old woman's eyes, pale as ash, flickered with concern. "Do not try to use it. Not yet. The Veil is patient, but it does not forgive recklessness. It tests, and it learns through your fear and greed."
Alex's hand tightened around the lantern. The pulse he felt seemed to sync with its light. He could almost see faint lines of energy arcing from the glowing bulb into the floorboards beneath them.
"What… what should we do?" Tara asked. Her voice trembled as she instinctively pressed her hands over her eyes, then lowered them slowly. "Do we embrace it? Resist it?"
"Neither," the woman said. "For now… you observe. You let it stir. Let it awaken what it will. But never act hastily. Not in this village. Not tonight."
The group settled uneasily on the floor, each of them wrapped in the brittle blankets. The lantern's glow pulsed faintly with the rhythm of their collective heartbeat. And as the minutes passed, the strange power continued to grow—subtle at first, then undeniable.
Alex could feel it pooling in his limbs, a strange strength behind every muscle. When he moved a finger, he could sense even the tiniest tremor in the floorboards. Tara's hands tingled, as if her touch could manipulate the air around her. Liam felt an almost electric energy in his veins, like adrenaline multiplied a hundred times. Jordan, though terrified, could sense the motions of the shadows themselves—subtle shifts in the corners of the room, faint footprints in the dust, as if the house whispered secrets only he could detect.
And then, as if the Veil itself had decided the demonstration was enough, a sudden knock came from above—sharp, deliberate, echoing across the roofboards like the strike of a hammer on iron.
The group froze. The lantern flickered violently.
"Not… him?" Liam stammered.
The old woman's face hardened. "Perhaps not. Yet. But someone… something… watches. It knows the living are here."
Jordan whispered, "I'm done with watching. Can we just—can we run, now?"
Alex shook his head. "No. We need to understand. We can't keep running blindly. Not if the Veil is… giving us this."
Tara's fingers brushed the floor instinctively, and she froze. A faint shimmer ran beneath her hand, like heat waves over pavement. "Do you see that?" she asked. "I… I think the Veil is showing me something."
Alex leaned in, and for a fleeting moment, he too felt it—tiny threads of energy weaving beneath the floorboards, pulsing with anticipation, connecting the room to something larger, something beyond sight. The energy was alive, and it was waiting to respond to them.
The old woman's lips parted in a whisper. "The Veil awakens the touched. But not all who are awakened survive the night. Only those who understand its rhythm, its hunger… only they endure."
The sound of movement above the roof intensified. Something shuffled across the shingles, light and careful but deliberate. The group's hearts pounded in unison with the pulsing lantern.
Alex swallowed. "We have to be ready. We have this… gift now. Whatever it is. But it's tied to this place. It's tied to him."
The old woman's expression softened slightly. "Then listen. Watch. Learn. And above all—stay alive until dawn. Only then may you begin to wield what stirs within you."
The tapping above paused. Silence stretched like a taut wire. Then the roof groaned under a faint weight, and the pulse of power in their veins grew sharper—warmer, stronger, as if the Veil was testing them directly.
Jordan whispered under his breath, "I don't know if I like this. I don't even understand this."
Alex pressed his hand to his chest, feeling the pulse of the energy like a heartbeat of its own. "None of us do," he admitted. "But we have to learn. Or we don't survive."
Tara looked at the old woman. "Can we… trust you?"
The woman's eyes, sunken and pale, glimmered. "Trust is fragile in Direford. But for tonight… yes. I will keep you hidden. And I will teach you, a little, before he comes."
A faint creak echoed from above, followed by a low, almost satisfied thrum through the walls. The air seemed to ripple with anticipation, and for the first time, Alex understood what the woman meant: the Veil was alive, sentient, and aware of them.
And in that realization, a dark, electric thrill ran through each of them.
The night was far from over.
And by dawn, they would begin to discover what power the Veil had gifted them—and what it would demand in return.