Chapter 59
CAN FINK KEEP A SECRET AND REVENGE OF THE TULA
Millie thrashed like a fish on a line, a goose in a net, a fox with its paw in a trap.
A minute of such exertion proved to be her limit, and then the rational part of her brain shoved back against the outrage and mild panic. The longer she hung there, the sooner her arms would grow numb. She had no way to sever the rope from the hook, so she had to attack this problem piecemeal.
Millie tippy-tapped on her toes until she spun a full circle to assess her surroundings.
She was in the darkest corner of the kitchen.
It would be coolest over here, so at least she wasn’t at risk of overheating.
Yet. The corner could also provide leverage—something she would’ve known nothing about had it not been for Duncan’s lessons on physics.
The pirate aspirant twirled until she faced the seam of the corner. Barefoot, she swung back on her hook. When its pendulous arc brought her close to the walls, she tightened her arms and leaned back.
Her toes seized the rough-hewn stones, but her grip was perilous.
At any moment, she could slip or her arms would fail, and then her chances of getting free would plummet exponentially from the wasted energy.
Gritting her teeth, Millie angled her body until her knees were as bent as she could manage without her feet slipping.
Her toes held the stones surprisingly well, and she made a mental note to thank Jax and Sir Roger for their training.
Millie cast an anxious glance to the exposed beam from which her hook was suspended. Six inches above her. She needed twelve to get to the top of the beam. With an explosive kick, she jumped and reached for the beam. And caught it.
She wasted no time. She swung her legs up and hooked her heels around the beam, then set to wiggling the rope free of the hook with one hand.
The dratted hook was barbed, so her rope hadn’t slipped free when she’d caught the beam.
It had caught in the rope’s fibers, and she strained to tug, yank, and otherwise manhandle it free.
At last the hook admitted defeat, and Millie dropped to the ground.
She was still bound and her wrists hurt, but she was free from one of her problems. Sucking in a deep, satisfied breath, she sauntered over to the sink for a glass of water.
Refreshed, Millie took a seat by the window to get a look at this wretched knot.
It was in the Constrictor Class, so it would continue to tighten the more she struggled.
Already her skin was red and stinging as the coarse fibers bit into her skin like fire ants.
Of course she could just cut herself free with the serrated bread knife, but then what would she learn? Not a darn thing, and certainly not how to inflict this knot upon Bradley when he least expected it.
After a few minutes of inspection and some gentle probing, Millie wiggled herself free. Then she adjusted her hair, brushed the dust from her clothes, got another glass of water, and slunk out into the stairwell to exact her revenge on the napping apprentice.
He’d locked his door, which she deftly picked yet again, but he’d added the extra security of propping the chair under the door handle.
That stumped her for a moment or two, but she managed to create a crack large enough for her fingers to slip through and shift the chair just enough that the handle could swing again.
She wasn’t fast enough to catch the chair before it fell, landing against the floor with a crash. Millie froze, as if seizing all motor functions would render her invisible, but the apprentice didn’t rouse. Didn’t even grunt in his sleep.
Stealing into his room, Millie slitted her eyes against the glare of the late afternoon sun.
Bradley hadn’t closed the shutters, and buttery light warmed the stones and slid across tan skin.
A flush crept up her cheeks, but only for a moment.
She was here on the business of revenge, not the business of shamelessly ogling a very fine man with abs like oranges and arms nearly as thick around as her thighs and a span of shoulders that could block out the sun.
The ferret was curled up in the valley of Bradley’s bare chest, the apprentice’s breath ruffling his black fur.
Millie held a finger to her lips as Fink lifted his head from his paws.
Mercifully, the ferret stayed quiet, didn’t even uncoil, though he watched her with those dark eyes as she stole over to the bed.
Upon the nightstand was Bradley’s mug of chamomile tea, half drunk, and droplets of tea beaded upon the polished wood.
Frowning, Millie swiped those droplets away so they wouldn’t ruin the finish.
It wasn’t like Bradley to be so careless, but maybe he was that tired.
She’d noticed the hollows deepening under his eyes as he threw every ounce of energy into the Tianzi Toad Treasure Hunt.
The sleeping apprentice still didn’t stir, not once, as Millie hovered by the bedside edge. A pang of empathy gave her pause. He truly was bone tired.
He also truly deserved this.
“Don’t rat me out,” she whispered to the ferret when her task was complete.
Fink huffed, insulted she would associate him with such a wretched creature. He used to be a prize ratter before his previous owner had lost him in a game of cards to Jaxson Sloop. Not that anyone had ever asked him. Not that he could tell anyone even if he wanted to.
Millie slipped out of the room, shut the door behind her, and practically skipped down the stairs to the dungeon.
The evening was already approaching, but dinner wouldn’t be for several hours yet with Bradley dead to the world.
She had plenty of time to finish her afternoon lessons with Duncan and Jax.
She couldn’t wait to tell them of her own little adventure.