WAKENED (The Silvervane Chronicles Book 1)
Page 16
“What if the master sent her here to fetch his clothes or something he needs?” The girl protested loudly.
“It’s none of your concern. If the master wants something, he has the right to a telephone call. Until I hear from him myself, you are not to answer that door.”
“But why can’t we just ask her why she’s here?” The maid argued.
“I don’t want strangers poking around here without the master home,” the housekeeper said sternly. “Especially people like the Bryants.”
“But what if she isn’t one of them?”
“If you disobey my orders, you’ll be out on the street looking for a new job before the master even hears of it, do you understand?”
The maid nodded sullenly, leaving the room.
Aylie’s mouth fell open in shock. Had she really just heard what she thought she’d heard? What did the maid mean by, “one of them?” This was the second conversation she’d overheard today that made absolutely no sense. Her head was swimming now and she was no closer to getting that address than before. She forced herself to focus on what she had come here to do, pushing the conversation from her mind.
Clearly no one was going to let her in, so Aylie was going to have to come up with a different plan. The sitting room window was the only one low enough to climb through. She’d have to break the glass from the outside to attempt it, which would be pretty risky. She crawled out from under the window and took a step back, surveying the side of the Mansion. Even if she managed to break in somehow, she didn’t know her way around and was likely to get lost. She knew firsthand how maze-like this castle could be.
Suddenly she heard a door slam on the other side of the wall. She started to tip toe back toward the front of the Mansion, hoping to escape undetected. The sound of her name stopped her in her tracks.
“Aylie,” the maid whispered.
She spun around on her heal.
The maid motioned silently for her to come back and Aylie obliged, trying to avoid being seen from the many windows covering the face of the mansion. The housekeeper could be watching her from any one of those windows and she’d have no way of knowing. Was the butler in on this, too?
“Did Ryder send you?” The maid asked, talking so low Aylie could barely hear her.
Aylie nodded. “He needs an address from his father’s study…an uncle he thinks might be able to help him. He sent me here to get it.”
The maid looked nervous. “I’m not allowed in there while Mr. Payne is away. If I’m caught in that wing of the house I’ll be fired.”
“Can you find a way to get me inside, then?” Aylie whispered back.
The maid nodded. “If you come back tonight I can let you in.”
“I don’t know my way around…” Aylie hedged.
“I can draw you a map.”
Aylie smiled at her gratefully. “Thank you for helping me.”
“I’m Bridgett,” the girl said, returning the smile.
“Aylie Bryant.”
“I know. My mom and I used to buy eggs and butter from your ranch.”
“I remember now,” Aylie exclaimed. “That’s why you looked so familiar the first time I saw you here.”
Bridget looked at her curiously. “The master must trust you an awful lot to send you here by yourself.”
“I think he’s a little desperate to get out of that prison cell at this point,” Aylie replied modestly.
Bridgett smiled. “He respects you, I’ve seen it in his eyes. He’s never treated anyone the way that he treats you.”
Aylie thought she almost saw a hint of envy behind Bridgett’s innocent, brown eyes. She smiled awkwardly. “I guess that’s a good thing.”
“I hope so.” Bridgett glanced over her shoulder anxiously. “Be here after ten O’clock—that’s when the housekeeper goes to bed. Meet me at the door on the other side of the cellar,” she said, pointing to the one she’d come from.
Aylie groaned inwardly at the thought of having to walk all the way home and back again, but it was her only option. She thanked Bridgett and started for the ranch, hoping fervently that she would be able to get out of her house undetected again tonight. Sneaking out was starting to become a habit and she wasn’t proud of it. Maybe when she got Ryder out he could teach her how to transport.
It was well after ten o’clock when Aylie was finally able to sneak out of her house, and she still had a long walk ahead of her. She hoped Bridgett would wait up for her—otherwise the long journey would be wasted. She wished fervently there was another way to get the address from Ryder’s study. The moon had waned and was almost non-existent in the evening sky, leaving only tiny pinpricks of starlight to guide her through Silvervane forest. She’d brought a flashlight, but the tiny beam did little to illuminate her path. She swallowed her fear and forced herself to keep moving forward. She missed Ryder, now more than ever, as she followed the winding gravel road in the dark. What would he think if he knew she was out here in the middle of the night? Had he known the housekeeper would refuse to let her in?
Surely not. Ryder would be furious if he knew what she was doing right now. It warmed Aylie’s heart to think of how protective he’d become…not that it did her much good right now. She ignored the painful blisters on her feet and the weariness in her bones and forged ahead. Ryder had been right about one thing—there’s no way she had walked there the night she’d appeared outside his room. She could hardly make it through the woods with her eyes wide open and shoes on her feet. She stopped for a moment to catch her breath. She bent over, sliding her hands down to her knees. Thankfully some of the snow had melted over the past two days, or she would’ve been standing in it over her ankles right now. If there was one thing she hated more than anything else, it was being cold and wet at the same time.
Above the familiar rustling of trees swaying in the cold, night breeze, Aylie heard the sound of feet crunching through the snow not far behind her. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, as she looked around frantically to see who was trailing her. How long had she been followed unaware?
She started moving again, this time much faster than before. She hadn’t thought to bring a hunting knife or anything to defend herself with. She was so used to being safe with Ryder in the forest that she hadn’t been thinking clearly when she’d agreed to meet Bridgett in the middle of the night. She’d been more concerned with the possible dangers inside the mansion, rather than outside. She chided herself for being so foolish. She could almost picture Ryder’s reaction to this scenario and somehow it comforted her in a weird sort of way.
Aylie wanted to run, but she forced herself to maintain an even stride. If it were a wildcat of some sort, running would incite a chase, which she had to avoid if she was going to survive this little excursion in one piece. Perhaps her stalker would keep its distance if she just kept an even pace and maintained a calm presence. She still had so far to go it seemed a little hopeless, but she focused on the path in front of her, choosing her steps carefully to avoid twisting an ankle.
The darkness seemed to be closing in around her. Fear was becoming palpable. She imagined that she saw moving shadows all around her and her mind was beginning to fall for the delusions perpetuated by her terror. She could remain calm no longer. She took off down the road in a dead sprint. Suddenly, something was standing in the middle of the path ahead of her. She stopped in her tracks—it was the white lion from her dreams. His fur was even more luminous in real life than it had appeared to her in her sleep—a pure, glistening white.
Aylie rubbed her eyes, questioning her senses. “You’re the one who’s been appearing in my dreams,” she whispered aghast.
I Am.
Just as she’d been able to understand him in her dreams, she could hear the lion’s thoughts in her mind, loud and clear. She was so taken aback by his presence that her knees began to buckle. She tried to keep her lips from quivering. “Why are you here?”
To help you. He started walking toward her. With each calcul
ated step, Aylie’s lips began to tremble. She wasn’t afraid that he would harm her, but she felt something very similar to fear and didn’t know what to make of it. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him. It was as if her feet were glued to the earth. She didn’t know how she was ever going to make it to the Mansion at this rate. He reached the place where she was standing, his shining, blue eyes gazing into hers with unwavering intensity. Touch my forehead, he commanded.
Aylie didn’t even hesitate. Her hand shook as she reached forward, placing her fingers on his large, white forehead. The moment she touched him, she saw a montage of images flash before her minds’ eye. They moved too quickly for her to comprehend, but each image left an impression somewhere deep in her soul. She couldn’t explain what was happening, but before she knew it—she was standing in the center of Ryder’s study. She blinked, coming back to full consciousness, and looked around the room. She didn’t know how she’d gotten there, but she didn’t have time to worry about it now. She went straight over to the desk and searched for the piece of paper with uncle Alexander’s address. She found it beneath a pile of unopened mail and stuffed it into the pocket of her jeans.
She looked around for an exit and realized she had no idea how to get back to the cellar door Bridgett had told her to use. There were so many passages and stairways; it was like trying to find her way out of the world’s largest labyrinth. She thought about the lion and wished he were here to show her how to get out. She closed her eyes, trying to remember what
he’d told her in the dreams. Ruah. Her eyes flew open, as she suddenly remembered his name. Then the lion’s words came flooding back to her, ‘You can hear the sound of my voice with your spirit.’ Aylie closed her eyes again. “Ruah,” she whispered, feeling a little silly and unsure. “How do I get out of here?”
Instantly, the knob of the study door turned and Bridgett peaked in. “Aylie?” She whispered, wide-eyed. “How did you get in here? I was waiting for you by the cellar door just like we talked about.”
Aylie hurried over to her. “I’m so sorry…I got in another way, but now I’m not sure how to get back out.”
Bridgett motioned for Aylie to follow her. They crept through a long corridor that led them down three, steep flights of stairs. Aylie remembered how easily she’d nearly slipped and fallen the last time and walked as close to the wall as possible; Ryder wouldn’t be there to save her this time. They took another long passageway, crossed through a hall of some kind, and came out in the wine cellar.
“That’s the door,” Bridgett whispered, nodding with her head.
Aylie smiled gratefully, clasping her hand for a moment. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you,” she whispered back, slipping through the door as quietly as possible.
CHAPTER TWENTY
R yder lay back on his cot reading an old copy of Robinson Crusoe. He’d always been an avid reader and Daniel Defoe’s work was a classic. His cellmate had fallen asleep on the cot across from him out of sheer boredom. They weren’t given liberties in the dayroom for another two hours, so they had to make do with what they had in their cell for entertainment. He wished he had thought to ask Aylie to bring him some of the volumes from his father’s study, but that had been the last thing on his mind when she’d shown up at the jail unannounced.
He still couldn’t believe she’d brought her mom to see him, although she had claimed the visit was her mom’s idea. He’d gotten the feeling that Mrs. Bryant knew exactly what was going on between them, but she’d kept it to herself and had appealed to him as Aylie’s friend, which he appreciated. She didn’t look down on him for his family’s misfortune or fear his influence over her daughter. On the contrary, she seemed to be encouraging him to associate with Aylie, which puzzled him.
If Aylie’s parents had been secretly involved with Edryd’s Order, they would never have allowed their daughter to consort with him in any way. Rather, they would have kept her as far away from him as possible and would probably have finished him off themselves by now. He couldn’t tell from his brief interactions with Mrs. Bryant if she knew anything incriminating about his ancestry or not. He’d noted her reaction to the sword in his vault. It was a ritual sword that had belonged to his great grandfather Payne—the last of his family to serve the Order. The significance of the weapon would have been obvious only to someone who understood its origins. Perhaps she had simply been fascinated by it.
Ryder sighed. It had been almost a week since he’d seen Aylie and he wasn’t sure whether or not she’d been able to get his uncle’s address. On top of that, it was the day before Christmas Eve, so mail was likely to be slow even if she had been able to write. This wasn’t where he pictured himself spending the holidays, but at least there was someone on the outside who cared where he was.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps outside the cell. He glanced up from his book to see the Corrections Officer drop an envelope through the bars. It landed facedown on the dirty cement floor. Ryder eased himself off of his cot to see who the letter belonged to. To his astonishment, it was an expedited letter addressed to him and bore a postmark from the First United Kingdom. He ripped it open with his index finger, extracting a letter from his uncle.
Dear Ryder,
Your friend, Ms. Bryant, has notified me of your situation. She found my address and was able to trace my telephone number. I have contacted your attorney on your behalf and you should be released any day now. No need to worry about bail—I have taken care of it and look forward to seeing you very soon.
Yours Truly,
Uncle Alexander
Ryder let out a deep breath. It was only a matter of time before he would be released from this cold, lifeless jail cell. It was the most welcome news he’d received in almost a month and his heart swelled with gratitude—both to Aylie and his uncle. He wondered how she’d been able to track down his uncle’s phone number, but there would be time for questions later. He returned his attention to his book with a new enthusiasm, breezing through page after page until he was escorted to the dayroom. There were men playing cards, chess boards, a bookshelf covered in dust and dirty magazines, along with a few discarded books with tattered covers, like the one he’d borrowed. There were two small televisions hanging from the ceiling—one at each end of the long room. Around one screen, a large group of inmates crowded to watch basketball, while the news channel played on the other.
Ryder sauntered over to one of the unoccupied chessboards and sat down on a stool, glancing over at the television broadcasting breaking news. There was a report of an air raid over a foreign country, and two people were arguing back and forth about whether the strike had been ethical. Then the news anchor returned, turning the discussion toward local news. His report began with the story of a local business that had burned down during the night—investigators suspected arson. After that story had concluded, the news anchor introduced a second reporter filming from a remote location, queuing her to reveal the topic of the next segment. The reporter thanked him for the introduction and began describing an attempted robbery of the area’s most prestigious home, followed by the shocking news of yet another tragic murder connected with the robbery.
Ryder’s stomach lurched when he saw footage of the Mansion flash across the screen. The pictures of the murdered victim revealed only the top of Bridgett’s head and the tips of her toes sticking out from beneath a white sheet, as her lifeless body was carried away on a stretcher. They showed an old high school photo of the girl in her Silvervane Prep uniform, offering their condolences to her family and friends.
“Is Ryder Payne innocent?” A picture of Ryder in handcuffs flashed on the screen. “Could the real killer still be out there?” The reporter asked dramatically, looking into the camera for effect. Ryder’s attorney appeared in front of the camera next to make a statement. “Ryder Payne has been declared innocent of all charges at this time and will be released from Silvervane County Jail later this afternoon.”
“Lucky break,” one of the men spat, rolling his eyes.
“He couldn’t very well have murdered someone out there while he was in here, now could he?” Another inmate retorted in Ryder’s defense.
“Maybe he had someone on the outside working for him,” the first man said, squaring up to the second.
“Or maybe he’s innocent, like the lady said.”
A fight nearly broke out, but one of the guards intervened before it came to blows. He escorted Ryder out of the room and back to his cell, commanding him to get his things together. It would be safer for him to remain behind bars until his release, as some of the men would love nothing more than to send him home with a beating to remember them by. He followed the officer’s orders, though there was a part of him that wanted that group of thugs to cross him and get what they deserved.
It was the thought of seeing Aylie that kept him in check. The last thing he wanted to do was give the Corrections Officer a reason to delay his release. He did as he was told and waited impatiently, sitting on the edge of his cot. His mind was racing. How did Bridgett get mixed up in all of this? She had nothing to do with Edryd’s Order…at least, not that he was aware of. She was an innocent young girl with all of her life ahead of her. Anger welled up in him with every passing moment. It was one thing for the Order to come after his family, for they had defected and retaliation was a natural consequence. He seethed inwardly as he waited for his release.