Chapter 39 #2
For a dark, twisted moment, I hated Tabitha Crowther with my very essence. She, a mere servant, had inspired this entire House, every single family member, and every single servant, to fight for her freedom. And who had I inspired? No one.
I startled, swaying off balance. Sage nudged the back of my knee once more, letting out a low growl to remind me we had no time to loiter.
We darted from the Crowthers’ gallery and ran down servants’ secret passageways and shadowy hallways furnished in various eras, one with Tudor paneling, another with Corinthian columns bracing the ceiling.
We slipped to hide behind Renaissance tapestries or shrank behind bushy shrubs flanking amphora wine jars when we heard distant sounds from nearby soldiers until, at last, we reached the end of a narrow hallway that led to the main entrance of the barracks.
I peered stealthily around the corner.
The entryway opened into a large chamber with little inside but a few chairs and battle-scarred flooring.
Several corridors and a staircase fed into the space.
The barracks weren’t long, narrow buildings in a typical mortal military fashion that housed a collection of guards or servants; they were inside the Keep in an area I guessed had once been the Servants’ Quarters.
Boots stomped across the chamber as several soldiers burst out of the barracks, nets slung over their shoulders. The nets crackled with magic, smoky light pulsing through the knotted fibers. Their leader barked orders, and the group vanished down the corridor opposite the entrance.
Only one guard remained outside the barracks.
Young, nervous, pacing in the flickering shadows as the failing lights fizzed overhead.
Her fingers anxiously kneaded the hilt of her sword as she became distracted by the noises drifting from the far end of the chamber, where a staircase spiraled down from above.
She had the air of a cadet still in training.
I nearly rubbed my hands together. Excellent.
I just needed to slip past her and get inside.
Though once in the barracks, I had no idea what I’d find. There was no plan, only to hide as best I could while searching its belly for the armory. With the brunnie rampaging through the Keep, I prayed the weapons hold had been left open for quick access.
Retreating from the hallway corner, I crouched beside Sage. Worry coiled tightly about my bones as I begged him, “Be safe. Don’t let them catch you.”
He quietly huffed, tipping his nose up as if to say I’d offended him.
His raspy tongue swiped my cheek. “Ew,” I mouthed, stifling a laugh and scratching beneath his chin.
“As soon as you lead her away, head straight to the tower, and don’t come out.
” Angling my head toward the corner of the hallway junction, I rose to my feet and whispered, “Good luck, puppy.”
Sage silently trotted back from where we’d come to give himself a run-up to gain speed.
I froze as an unexpected burst of voices jarred through the air. It sounded as if those yelling at one another were at the top of the spiral staircase.
The godsdamned Crowthers!
I covertly peered around the corner to see the guard hurrying to the foot of the stairs. There came a volley of shouting between the brothers. Caidan bellowed, “Godsdammit, it got through!”
“We need to lock down the levels to trap it!” Kenton shouted.
“That’s going to take forever,” Caidan said.
“Do it!” Kenton’s voice roared down the spiral staircase. “Lock down the barracks!”
Panic broke out beneath my skin.
Shit, shit, shit.
“Yes, sir!” came the reply from the guard on duty.
The brothers moved on. Their cursing and shouted orders faded swiftly.
I didn’t know what to do. I’d hoped the brunnie would draw them far from the barracks, not leave the godsdamned place locked down. Spinning on my heel, I urged my wraith-wolf forward with a flustered hand. “Hurry, Sage, hurry!”
I heard a terrifying noise. A loud click, and then a grinding.
Sage whipped around. Muscles bunched. Then he launched, swift and sure.
A blur of speed.
A ripple of porcupine quills.
He shot past me, clawing around the corner.
I peered around the hallway’s edge just in time to see him streak across the vestibule and past the guard, loosing a high-pitched yowl that made my ears ring. He moved so fast he looked like a whirlwind of chaos, just like the brunnie in the training pit.
The guard let out a startled cry. “It’s heading toward the garage!” She jittered in place, unsure what to do. Cursing low, she drew her sword and sprinted after Sage as he vanished down a corridor.
I stared in horror as a dark shadow cast long over the scuffed floor right in front of the entrance to the barracks. The shadow was moving, and the grinding noise grew louder and louder.
Thanks to Sage, the area was cleared. The black hood of my shawl fell from my head, its long ends flapping behind me as I skidded around the corner and hurtled into the barracks entrance.
A wide corridor stretched ahead, lined with a few doors and ending at a junction that opened to what looked like a mess hall.
But fifteen yards in front of me, two gigantic adamere doors were sliding inward to seal the barracks shut.
No, no, noooo!
I hurled myself forward with everything I had.
The rasp of stone on stone hollowed out my ears as the doors drew closer together.
The gap narrowed—
Narrowed—
Adrenaline burned through my veins.
I pushed myself faster, faster.
The opening shrank to a slender slice of space with just enough to throw myself through before the doors met.
Boots thumped. A foul stench washed over me.
I was there—
Right there—
Running through the narrowing gap.
The fabric of my dress brushed the sliding stone.
And then I felt him.
A heartbeat of warning before cruel hands clamped around my upper arms and yanked me back.
My feet kicked wildly.
A screech tore from my throat only to be cut short when a hand slapped over my mouth. An arm banded my middle, dragging me up against a solid chest. Warm lips pressed to my ear, and the soft “Shoosh,” stirred the loose tendrils at my temple before Jett murmured, “Hello, Wychthorn.”