He grabbed her neck and forced her to look up at him again. “Get on the horse!” he growled.
Her mouth was numbed with the coppery slick of blood, and her lips were too sore to move. So instead she shook her head, waiting with dread for the next attack.
Fletcher squeezed her neck and shoved her to the ground. A moment later, the wind was knocked out of her as he rammed his boot into her stomach. Norabel wheezed in pain, feeling her lungs tighten up. As she struggled to breathe, she could hear Iris screaming from the front window of her house. Please stop this! she begged her Albatross. Why are you letting this happen?
Another kick rammed into her stomach, and panic enveloped her as she realized that she couldn’t find any air. Her head swam and her vision started to go. Her hands were shaking from where they were grabbing onto the dirt in a last futile attempt to keep her there.
It took only a moment for Fletcher to realize that he could easily take her now. His arms wrapped around her middle, and Norabel couldn’t even gasp for breath anymore. She was being taken. She was helpless to do anything. What good is having a guardian if he can’t even stop this from happening?
Fletcher hoisted her up on the horse, and her head fell forward, dripping blood onto its leathery skin. She felt movement behind her, and a second later an arm snaked around her middle. Her lungs were still not letting air pass, and all she could do was struggle to breathe as Fletcher kicked the horse into a trot.
As they passed her neighborhood, a kind of hot dread washed over her skin, making her feel sick with fever. This was it; he was really taking her away. The realization made her feel even worse, and she told herself that she couldn’t think about it. She needed to breathe, and to do that, she needed to calm down. Through the haze in her mind, a thought crept its way into her head. Mason, it said. He’ll come. He’ll come and save you when you don’t show up at eleven. So there is no reason to worry. He’ll stop anything bad from happening.
A trickle of air escaped in through her lungs. Her chest ached as it heaved for more. Another stream of air came through, then another. Relief washed through her as she realized she had stopped the Jotham attack from escalating. However, it was of little consolation when Fletcher was still taking her away. If he tried to beat her again, the chances of another attack coming on were extremely high.
Her head dipped and bobbed as Fletcher pushed his horse through the village. Everything zoomed past her so fast that her eyes couldn’t grab ahold of anything. She figured she must have been going in and out of consciousness, for, before she knew it, the stronghold was in front of her.
Her heart started up again in fear, understanding that they weren’t far from their destination. She knew she should do something now, try and slip off the horse and run away because there was no possibility of escape once he got her inside. However, he was holding onto her too tightly, and her head was swimming too fast.
As they entered into the courtyard, heading towards the stables, Norabel looked out to the castle. There were two men nearby, standing in the shadows near a side door. For a moment, she thought about calling out to them for help, but she didn’t know if it would do any good. Then she realized with a start that one of the men was chief Auberon himself. Her eyes glazed over to the other man, and what she saw she didn’t quite believe. He looked just like the man she had seen at Ashlin’s cabin. But it couldn’t have been! Her eyes must be playing tricks.
Her head throbbed in pain, and she shut her eyes. As they came closer to the two men, she could hear slips of their conversation.
“Yes! Now!”
“I understand Brin. You should go.”
“Good luck.”
Fletcher turned the horse and brought them closer to the stables. Though her body was begging her to give into sleep, she struggled to hold on to consciousness. Opening her eyes, she tried to look around for anyone that might be willing to help her. In the distance, she thought she saw Emmett’s mop of messy blonde hair, but he was turned the other way, and she couldn’t be sure it was him. She tried to call to him, but all that came out was the gurgle of tacky blood in the back of her throat.
Arriving at the back of the stables, Fletcher hopped off and grabbed ahold of her. Her stomach lurched as she felt his hands dig into her middle as he slipped her off the side of the horse. When she felt her feet hit the ground, she tried to break away. She caught him off guard and was able to slip out of his hold for a second. She tried to yell out for help once more, but before she could get anything past her throat, her body was slammed into the side of the wooden stable wall.
Darkness quickly invaded her world, sending her off to sleep before she crumpled down to the floor in a defeated thud.
*
Mason stared out past his team to the night outside. They were all waiting in his living room, silently feeling the tension grow. The hour was growing late. Too late. They were supposed to have left by now. Yet as the minutes ticked by, Norabel was nowhere to be seen.
“You did tell her she was coming,” Archer asked, tapping his fingers impatiently on his lap.
“She promised me she would be here,” Mason said, tearing his eyes away from the window.
“I think something’s wrong,” Logan stated. “This isn’t like her.”
Ashlin walked up to Mason and put a soft hand on his shoulder. “Do you think she chickened out?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Are you kidding me?” Logan exclaimed. “Chickened out? After she broke into the castle twice before, which is more than I can say for any of us.” He shook his head and pointed his finger at the front door. “No, if Norabel says she’s gonna be somewhere, then she’s gonna be there!”
“So where is she now?” Archer challenged, getting up from his seat.
“In trouble!” he answered frantically.
“You don’t know that,” Mason pointed out.
“Mason,” Ashlin said, flicking her head towards the window. “We really need to get going.”
“Wait! Can we really go without her?” Archer questioned. “Isn’t she the one that knows where everything is?”
“Technically yes,” Ashlin admitted. “But I think I can manage by what she’s told me. And I think that it’s better we go without her now than to keep waiting.”
Mason nodded. “You’re probably right.”
“No, she’s not right!” Logan countered. “You’re not seeing this situation for what it is!”
“Well you better enlighten me quickly,” Mason said, “Cause we have to get going.”
He tried to make for the door, but Logan jumped ahead of him. “If you do this,” he said, pointing to the open street behind him, “then you will be abandoning her. You’ve got two choices, Mason. Either you try and muddle through with your plan without her, or you put off revolution for one night and choose to save your oldest friend.”
Mason stared at him, his hand absently fingering the hilt of the sword at his waist. Then, shaking his head, he announced rather quickly, “She should have been here. She’s not. So we’re leaving. And there’s an end to it.”
He pushed past his brother and out the door.
“You coming?” he asked, looking to Logan from the corner of his eye.
Logan glanced past his brother to the west, where Norabel’s house laid. He knew without a doubt that she was in trouble. He knew that they should be riding over there right now to try and save her. But, if he left, then their team would be down two people, and he would not only let his brother down, but he would leave the whole team open to imprisonment and hanging.
Silently apologizing to Norabel, he nodded to his brother, saying, “Yeah. I’m coming.”
Their Harbinger team silently crept through the village, moving like shadows drawn to the great stone beast in the center of it all. When they were finally within sight of it, they circled around until they could see the side wooden door that led into the stronghold’s kitchens.
“You think that
’s the one?” Archer whispered into Ashlin’s ear.
“This is where she said it’d be,” she pointed out, taking a step away from him. Looking to Mason, she waited for him to make the decision.
“Come on,” he said, waving them forward. “Let’s go.”
The four of them sprinted out from the shadows of the road, moving swiftly across the stone courtyard. When they all gathered in front of the door, Mason held his hand up, counting down from three to let them know when he was going to bust the door open. When the last of his fingers went down, he rammed his shoulder into the door. From within, they could hear the sound of metal clanking to the floor, and a moment later a chain followed. Mason tried the door again, and this time it opened.
He peeked inside to see a dark kitchen. No one appeared to be nearby. He turned back to wave the rest of them through. They closed the door behind them with a quiet thump. Turning to their left, they noticed the pantry hallway of food and the Pax flag that lied at the end. Following Norabel’s instructions, they brushed aside the flag, opened up the doorway that led into the stone wall, and filed inside the narrow tomb one by one. Mason lit a small torch to light the way, and they followed the passage until they reached a fork.
“Which way?” Mason asked, turning back to Ashlin.
Ashlin looked around him to where the stone passage branched up and to the left, and straight ahead.
“I don’t remember Norabel saying anything about it branching in two,” she whispered. “I guess we could always try the left…hope it brings us up to Auberon’s rooms.”
“Great!” Archer whispered furiously. “That’s just great. We’re gonna guess our way to the top. When we get out of here, I swear I’m gonna give that girl a piece of my mind!”
“Complaining isn’t helping,” Logan pointed out.
“You’re not helping,” he retorted sullenly.
“You both aren’t,” Ashlin cut in. “Now quiet, before someone hears us!”
Taking a sigh, Mason waved the torch to the passage on the left. “Alright,” he whispered. “We’re going up.”
Inching along sideways, they spiraled up the passageway, climbing higher and higher. Mason saw no sign of the stone door that led in through Auberon’s closet, but he kept forward, hoping that it was nearby. However, after a minute or so, the passageway stopped, leading to a dead end. Mason moved the torch along the wall, making sure that there was no place for his fingers to go through, and then turned back to the group.
“Either we missed it, or we went up the wrong spire,” he told them. “Because I think we’re at the top of this one now.”
“Okay! That is it!” Archer exclaimed. “I don’t care who sees; we need to get out of this tomb and see just where in this wretched castle we are!”
“He’s right,” Ashlin agreed. “We need to get our bearings before we go wandering around these tunnels again.”
“Alright. Hoods up everybody,” Mason announced, lifting up his own hood to cover his face in shadows.
Reaching for the metal torch mount at the top of the wall, Mason pulled down on it, revealing a few inches of light between the stones. Opening the door slowly, he poked his head around the Pax flag to see what lay ahead. There was a torch burning on the wall above his head, and he found himself on the top of a stairwell. At the bottom was a platform with two doors on either side of the circular stone walls, and the stairs curved down from there, leading to more rooms.
Seeing no one around, he stepped out, whispering for the others to follow.
“So, where are we?” Archer asked, twisting his head around in search for a window. However, with no way to look out, they still couldn’t tell where they were in relation to the rest of the castle.
“I guess there’s no chance they might have labelled this tower anywhere,” Archer joked.
Mason crouched down on the floor and took the pack from around his back. Opening it, he took out a small box with the time-delayed Snapper tube fitted on.
“Okay,” he said, looking up at his team. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna light this here, and then we’re going to take this stairwell down to the bottom floor. From there we can get our bearings, and then try to find the nearest entrance back into the tunnels.”
They nodded, and Logan took out a pouch of Snapper, holding it out to his brother from him to light the end of the slow-burning tube. Once Mason lit it, he quickly slung his bag over his shoulder and got up to his feet.
“Our one hour of time starts now,” he reminded them.
Moving quickly and quietly, they headed down the stairwell, holding their breaths as they passed each door. When they finally got to the bottom, they were faced with another fork in the road. They could either go left or right, yet there was no sign that told them what lied in either direction. No longer being inside the tunnels didn’t seem to do any more good, for they were just as lost outside than in.
“I say we go right,” Archer offered. “We went left the last time, and that didn’t take us where we wanted to go.”
“Fine,” Mason whispered, growing frustrated. “We’ll go right.”
He turned that direction, but had to quickly jump back behind the wall as a patrolling guard was walking down that way. Mason held his hand up, telling everyone to wait there. They could hear the sound of the guard’s footsteps as he walked closer towards them. Mason put his hand on the hilt of his sword, preparing to knock the guard out cold should he come around the corner. However, when he was no more than a few feet away, his footsteps stopped, and then started back down the hallway. Mason peeked from around the corner, watching as the guard disappeared down an intersecting corridor.
“Quick,” he whispered, dashing out past the wall and racing down the hallway. As they ran, they checked several doors, trying to find another passage that led upwards into another spire. They still had not found one when they heard the footsteps of the guard growing louder and louder.
“We need to hide,” Ashlin told him. “Find an unlocked door!”
Mason reached out for the door nearest to him but, giving it a jiggle, found it was locked. Ashlin raced ahead to next one, and immediately the door swung open when she tested it. It was dim inside, and without bothering to scout it out any, they all ran in, closing the door swiftly behind them just as the guard rounded the corner. They waited in silent darkness as they listened by the door, hoping they wouldn’t hear the sound of running footsteps. At first it was quiet, but then they heard the slow-measured click of boots coming down the hallway.
Mason pressed his ear to the door as he heard the guard passing by. However, instead of continuing on, the footsteps suddenly stopped. Mason quickly placed his hand on the doorknob so he would be able to feel if the man was trying to open the door. The knob remained still in his hands, and Mason stopped breathing so that he would be able to listen better to what was going on outside. Through the wood, he heard the faint sound of sniffing, almost like a dog scouting out a scent. Mason quietly took in a sniff as well and realized what the guard was smelling…fish!
Glancing to his side, he saw that Archer was right there next to him, trying to listen through the door as well. It was his fishy scent that the man was smelling!
Frantically waving his hand, he caught Archer’s attention and mouthed the word, “Go!”
Archer’s face twisted in confusion, wondering what Mason was doing.
“Get back!” he mouthed.
Finally Archer obeyed, backing up a few spaces and taking his fishy odors with him. Pressing his ear back to the door, Mason heard the sound of the guard walking away and turning down another hallway. He breathed out a silent sigh of relief and stepped away from the door.
Taking in his surroundings, he realized that it wasn’t a room they had entered into, but a poorly lit hallway. There was a door at the very end of the corridor, and only one torch had been lit near it. Upon closer inspection, he realized that there were other torches that lined the hall, but they had all been blown out sa
ve for the last one.
“What do ya think?” Archer asked, looking down the dark corridor to the light at the end. “Should we see what’s behind that door?”
“It might lead up,” Ashlin commented.
“Or it might lead us to a room full of men,” Mason added.
“What else are we gonna do?” Archer asked. “With that guard coming around outside our door every thirty seconds!”
“There’s less of a chance of getting caught if we go down this way,” Ashlin agreed. “Anyone we do run into will probably be asleep. Only the guards are up at this time of night.”
Mason looked up to the darkened torches and shook his head. He didn’t like the looks of it, but he didn’t have the luxury of taking another route. If only Norabel was here like she was supposed to be, he told himself. Then they wouldn’t be in this predicament. They were supposed to be efficiently moving through the castle, knowing every turn to make, not blindly stumbling along, hoping to eventually find the right place.
Drawing out his sword, he moved along the hallway to the door at the end. He tested it; it opened willingly in his hand. He inched it forward a crack. Behind the door was a circular room with a large wooden table at the center. He couldn’t be sure in the dark, but it looked like an old war room. Taking a step back, Mason looked up to the archway above the door. He grabbed the only lit torch from the wall and waved it over the stone inscription.
Do not tempt the beast, for the beast will answer. You do not live in war, but provoke it, and war will be your answer.
He turned back and saw Ashlin staring up at the words.
“This was the old war room,” she whispered, her eyes glazing over at the passage written in stone. “They’ll keep any items of importance in there.”
“If that’s true, then wouldn’t they guard it better?” Logan reasoned.
“I’d say it’s been guarded pretty well,” Archer scoffed. “It’s no wonder that guy was hanging around here so much.”
Chasing Shadows (Saving Galerance, Book 1) Page 24