Whispering Tower

by Katie Clark

  The torch’s flames couldn’t hide the color draining from her face.

  Her gaze darted between them as if trying to agree with what he’d said. “You’re right. I know, you’re right.”

  His stomach cramped up, and he hated himself. “Never mind. We’ll try. We’ll make it fast, see if there’s anything we can do. Then we’ll go.”

  She bit her bottom lip. “Are you sure?”

  Yes, he was one thousand percent sure. He nodded.

  A small smile broke across her lips. “Thank you,” she said softly.

  Soft. It described the person he’d seen since they’d been stranded here. How had he missed it over the last few years?

  Seth stayed quiet during their debate, but he helped Skye as soon as she was ready to go up. Once she’d reached the top, Philip turned to Seth.

  “Who next?”

  Seth looked toward Philip. “You should go first, and quickly. We will leave the torch here. The fire will only draw attention in the city.”

  “Right.” Philip grabbed the ladder, but before he could start climbing, Seth stopped him with a hand on his arm.

  “You must never forget the way you feel here in this land.”

  Philip frowned. “What?”

  Seth didn’t let go. “Your friend has a good heart. She deserves much. Do not forget that.” Seth kept Philip’s eye, not letting his gaze wander until Philip pried his own glance away.

  Weird.

  He climbed quickly, meeting Skye in an old shed that led to a darkened alley above. They’d been in the tunnel for a long time.

  “What took you so long?” she hissed. “Someone already passed by, and I had to hide behind garbage.”

  “Sorry. Seth wanted to leave the torch behind.” And give him advice on his love life, apparently. Funny that dudes did that back in the ancient days, too.

  Seth joined them a moment later, and they closed the opening to the tunnel then left the shed. The alley was small, squished between two rows of tents. They must be near the marketplace.

  Seth’s father had been right. The festivities were louder than ever. Skye was in danger, and they needed to find their way out, fast. “Which way to Saul’s?” Philip asked Seth.

  Seth glanced up and down the alley and then looked above them. “Go right.”

  Philip took the lead, jogging through the dusty street until he came to the corner.

  Skye pressed against him, trying to see what was going on.

  “It’s the festival,” he said only loud enough for Seth to hear.

  Seth frowned. “We will have to go through the crowds. Saul’s home is three streets over, I believe. If we get separated in the masses, just keep moving forward.”

  “Right.” Philip took a step toward the main street, but froze. A ladder climbed the side of the building across the alley. An idea formed. “What if we jump roofs?”

  “Jump roofs? In these things?” Skye held the skirt of her robe out around her.

  He’d done it once, he could do it again. “It’s the best way to keep from being seen.”

  “Not necessarily,” Seth said. “Saul is looking for you. He most likely has watchmen posted.”

  Philip wasn’t willing to give up on his idea that easily. “I’ll climb up and see what I can see.”

  Seth’s eyebrows pulled together as though he was a dad who was unhappy with his son’s life choices. Whatever. Philip didn’t answer to him.

  Climbing as fast as he could in the brown robes, he worked his way to the top and looked around. It was dark on top of the two-story building, but the stars burned overhead, lighting up the night. There was no one on his own rooftop, and none on the handful he could see around him. Lights danced from below the buildings as noise from the streets filled the air.

  They would be safer up here than in the crowd, and if worst came to worst they could climb down before any guards caught them.

  He leaned over the rooftop but couldn’t make out Seth or Skye.

  With a sigh, he climbed back down to give them his opinion. His feet hit the dust, and he turned to search for them. No Skye, no Seth.

  Adrenaline pulsed through him, and he sucked in an angry breath. Seth set him up. Tricked him and lied to him. And Philip hadn’t caught on? Wouldn’t Dad be proud now?

  Philip ran around the corner, looking both ways, but Seth and Skye were gone, lost in a crowd, and Philip had no idea which way they’d gone.

  No, that wasn’t true. Seth said Saul’s house was three or four blocks straight ahead. If Seth had kidnapped Skye, he’d take her to Saul. If they weren’t at the villa, they’d be at the tower. Philip ran straight ahead, plowing toward the next street.

  He stopped and turned, looking across the city and toward the tower that rose and could be seen clearly, even in the dark. His mind reeled as he kept moving. He shoved his way through the crowd. If Seth was taking her to the tower, they might sacrifice her before he could get there. But what if they weren’t taking her there right away?

  He ground his teeth and continued running, determined to do whatever it took to save her.

  26

  Skye struggled against the rag stuffed in her mouth and the burlap sack that had been wrapped around her face. The sack smelled worse than Ezekiel’s stable, and she willed herself to not throw up. Her arms were tied behind her back, and she stumbled behind a guard who dragged her along.

  “Move it.” This voice came from behind her, so there had to be two guards.

  He shoved her from behind, but she caught herself before falling flat on her face. If she could speak around the rag in her mouth she would chew him out. Not that yelling would get her anywhere. She had a feeling these guys were for real. Trembles coursed through her. This wasn’t some movie on TV. These guys had really kidnapped her, put a bag over her head, and were intent on hurting her. What on earth was she supposed to do about that? She grunted loudly, trying to get their attention.

  No answer.

  She wanted to ask about Seth and Philip, but she was afraid to bring them up. If either of them had gotten away, she didn’t want the guards going after them.

  The trembling moved into the pit of her stomach, twisting and turning until she wanted to puke again. How had this happened? One second she’d been staring up the ladder, debating going after Philip, and the next she’d had a bag over her head and was being dragged along a dusty alley. Had she been knocked out? Her head didn’t hurt, but she didn’t remember the bag being put over her head, or being taken.

  The voice barking at her wasn’t recognizable, but she hadn’t exactly gotten to know any of Saul’s guards.

  God, help me, she begged. She stumbled through the streets until her captors jerked her to a halt.

  “Wait here.”

  Thankful for the rest, she gathered her bearings. She’d obviously been found by Saul. Maybe he’d known about the tunnel and had been watching it, or maybe someone was a traitor and had led them to her.

  It had to be Seth if that were the case.

  They must be moving through alleys because the crowds weren’t so loud here, and no one had been pressing around her as if they were moving in the open streets. If she could just see, she’d be able to tell where they were taking her. She’d be able to see if they were taking her to the tower.

  Cursed burlap sack!

  Metal grated against metal, and she jerked to attention. A gate opening?

  “Bring her inside,” a woman said.

  Skye recognized Lilla’s voice immediately. A heavy floral scent washed over Skye, and she knew where they’d taken her. Lilla’s garden.

  Calm spread through her. She could take Lilla. The woman had evil in her eyes, but she was smaller than Skye. Of course, if the guards were around they wouldn’t let Skye near Lilla.

  “Take her downstairs,” Lilla said.

  Downstairs?

  Skye broke out in a cold sweat as the guard shoved her forward. They were taking her downstairs—to a dungeon? They stepped out of the stic
ky night air and into the drier air of the villa.

  The guard stopped her. “We’re going downstairs. Don’t try anything foolish.”

  She wanted to snap at him but couldn’t with the rag in her mouth. Still, hadn’t she cooperated this far?

  The guard grunted, lifted the bag from her head and ripped the rag from her mouth.

  Skye sucked in a deep, clean breath.

  The guard gave her another slight push, so she took a tentative step forward. A staircase leading into darkness lay before her. She had to go down there?

  He shoved her again, and she started down. The further she descended, the colder the air turned. Chills raced up her arms, but with her arms tied behind her back she couldn’t even ward off the cold.

  She walked deeper into the dungeon, and dim light danced across the dank walls, spilling from two torches, one on either side of the small room. The underground space was empty other than Skye and her captor.

  “Are you leaving me here?” she asked. Her voice warbled on the last word, and she swallowed hard.

  “Mistress Lilla will do with you what she will.”

  Lilla.

  Chills broke out across Skye’s neck and back now.

  The guard dragged her to a chain on the wall. Both ends of the chain held a handcuff, and he locked her into them. The chains were too far above the ground for her to sit, so she was forced to stand.

  Tears burned her eyes, and she blinked the moisture away. This couldn’t be happening. Being stuck in a dark, cold dungeon was real. Being taken hostage then trapped with a bag over her head was real.

  Would she be dead by morning? Sacrificed on an altar to the gods?

  Heavenly Father, please help me out of here. I’ll make up with Mom. I’ll take Leah and Rachel’s advice. I’ll make things right.

  Her bargaining didn’t feel quite right, but she was desperate. No more thoughts of staying in Sumer—no more pity parties about Mom working too much or not wanting her.

  The guard stepped away from her and took up a position at the bottom of the stairs. At least he wasn’t leaving her by herself in the dungeon. She wasn’t sure she could take that.

  Minutes ticked by. Her adrenaline drained, and she realized it was late. She was tired. If she could just lie down—but she couldn’t. Her outstretched arms kept her hanging from the wall. Groaning, she adjusted herself. “Can’t I lie down?” she asked. “If I’m to die in some type of sacrifice, shouldn’t I at least be given a night’s comfort?”

  The guard didn’t look at her, but after a second, he stepped away from his post and moved to adjust her chains.

  She fell to the ground in a heap, relief washing over her. She moved quickly, curling into a fetal position and begging for sleep to come.

  When she brought her hands to cushion her head, her fingers squished in something cold and wet. Skye gasped and jumped away, but in the dark, she couldn’t make out whatever she’d touched. She propped herself against the wall instead. It would be a long night.

  ~*~

  Philip darted between people, not bothering to stop when he knocked a woman sideways. She shouted at him, but he kept going. Skye could only be a few paces ahead of him. He had been on and off the roof in a minute flat. Whoever had taken her didn’t have time to make it far.

  He scanned the heads of people in front of him, but he didn’t see anyone resembling her.

  As he maneuvered closer, he picked up on his location. He’d taken this same route two nights before from Saul’s to the marketplace where he’d met Abdul. If he went left he’d be at the tower, but he was almost to Saul’s villa now.

  He turned a corner and Saul’s home stood in front of him. Bypassing the front door, Philip scooted through the crowd and made his way to the back. If he could climb up the ladder on the nearby building and leap across as he’d done a few days ago, he’d have a better view and a better shot at figuring out how to get inside and find Skye.

  Two guards stood at the alley behind Saul’s villa, just as they’d been the last time he was there. Philip found the ladder on the same building as before. He gripped the rough wood and hauled himself up.

  If he had chosen wrong and Skye wasn’t here, it meant they’d taken her directly to the tower. He’d never make it to her in time.

  He shoved the thought away and finished his climb to the top. The crowded streets were muddled from above. They were a wave of confusion, with torches dotting the crooked alleys, outlining the people in eerie shadows like some kind of Halloween rave.

  He looked to his left, toward the tower. The streets grew dimmer the closer to the dark tower his gaze moved. No one was there yet.

  He was on the right track. Skye had to be somewhere inside Saul’s.

  Moving to the edge of the roof, he made sure the coast was clear before leaping over. He landed with a grunt and then moved quickly to the far ledge before doing it again. After one last leap, he faced the back of Saul’s villa.

  Skye’s room from two nights ago was dark. Philip glanced up and down the alley below him, but the guards hadn’t noticed him. That was good.

  But if Skye’s room was dark it meant they weren’t keeping her there. Wherever they’d taken her, it wasn’t to the room of a celebrated goddess.

  Philip could try leaping into Skye’s old room like last time. Saul wouldn’t waste guards at her door if no one remained inside to protect. After getting in, it would be as simple as moving through the house until he figured out where they were keeping her.

  But running through Saul’s house would be like finding a needle in a haystack. He needed a better plan, something more focused and specialized—like Dad, when going in for a big business move.

  Where would Saul keep someone who he wanted to be sure wouldn’t escape?

  Some kind of cell or locked area? A dungeon?

  It was his best idea, unless he got inside and saw a bunch of guards standing watch over any certain area.

  Philip squatted and evaluated the distance between the roof he was on and Skye’s old room. He’d been lucky to make this jump the first time. What were the chances of him plummeting to his death? He didn’t have time to overthink it. He needed to get inside and look for a basement.

  Without checking for the guards again, he leapt across the open air and slammed into the window ledge. The metal bars smacked his face and rocked his brain, but he managed to grab hold.

  Scrambling, he got a foothold, pulled himself to an upright position, and slipped inside the room. He paused, breathing hard and waiting for the guards’ shouts to begin. When everything stayed quiet, he peeked out the window. The guards stood watch in the alley, not looking at him in the window or seeming suspicious.

  The coast was clear.

  He moved to the door, but stopped before moving out. He needed to make sure no one was outside in the hallway. He shook the doors slightly and then waited to see if anyone came to check out the noise.

  No one.

  He stepped out and looked both ways. The hallway was empty. The talking and clattering from downstairs told him the party was still on, but his gaze moved to the room where he’d changed clothes.

  Leah had brought him the robes similar to the ones he now wore. She’d never used the main staircase, always coming from different hallways. That meant there were different ways to get downstairs—ways that would keep him hidden.

  He took a right and followed the long, dark corridor. By the time he reached the back staircase, the din from downstairs had faded. He followed the descending staircase. If he came out in the kitchen, he might be in trouble.

  At the bottom, he found another dim area. To his left, an arched doorway led outside, but to his right there was a hallway that led further into the house. He turned right and followed the hallway. He kept close to the wall, watching for nooks and crannies he could hide in if necessary.

  Small archways led to various storage rooms, and he made note of them.

  Light spilled from an archway ahead, and bustling and c
langing came from inside. After a second, he smelled the warm scent of bread.

  He was near the kitchen. Getting past without being seen shouldn’t be too hard as long as he walked as though he knew what he was doing and belonged there, just as he’d done at Ezekiel’s house when he’d been looking for Skye.

  Straightening his shoulders, he marched passed like a man with purpose. No one stopped him or even seemed to notice him.

  A few feet past the kitchen was another archway, but inside the archway was another door. Two guards stood in front of it.

  Philip forced himself to keep moving without slowing down or staring. As soon as he found another empty room, he slipped inside and shut the door. Guards would only be posted to protect something. If Philip had to guess, it was either Skye or the girl they were sacrificing in her place. Maybe both. He had to figure out how to get those guards away. The door was probably locked, so he needed to get the keys.

  Then get inside.

  Then get back out.

  All without being caught.

  Too bad he didn’t have Ezekiel to help him out again.

  He groaned. “God, if You’re up there, we could use a little help.” He swallowed hard, thinking of Skye being locked in some ancient dungeon. She meant more to him than he could describe. She always had, even when he’d listened to his friends make fun of her. It had always torn him up inside. He’d just been too big of a coward to stop them.

  He wouldn’t be like that anymore—too afraid to offend anyone just in case they could help him get further later. This wasn’t the business world, and high school didn’t have to be like that, either.

  Skye was a beautiful person, and he wanted to keep her in his life.

  Getting out of here was the first step.

  27

  Skye faded in and out of sleep as she shivered in the dungeon. She wasn’t tired, exactly, but the darkness played on her mind, making her feel wearier than she really was.

  The guard sat on a stool at the base of a stone staircase, whittling a piece of wood in the dim light of his torch.

  The staircase where he sat was different from the stairs she’d been brought down. Her mind was foggy in the cold darkness, but if she was thinking straight, she had been brought into the dungeon through a staircase on the opposite end of the room.