A Turn of Tides
Page 47
After thirty seconds of trying, it was clear that it wasn’t going to open.
My eyes shot toward the only other exit to this small chamber—the dark room Hagatha had exited from.
Leaping down from the stairs, I raced into the room and slammed the door shut behind me just before the ghoul smashed against it.
This door was fragile enough as it was from Hagatha’s earlier assault.
I wasn’t sure how much longer it would remain standing at this rate.
If it lasted a couple of minutes, I’d be lucky.
If what I’d heard about ghouls was true, Hagatha should have been able to just glide right through the door.
Hell, just escape this dungeon entirely.
I could only assume the witches had cast some sort of spell on this prison that prevented her from travelling through solid structures.
I tore off my shirt and, bunching it up, attempted to stem the blood flow as I kept fighting against the ghoul’s attempt to push open the door.
Then I cast my eyes around the room.
It wasn’t much different than the one I’d just been trapped in—small and dark.
Except in this room, there were several skeletons scattered about the floor—those of humans, perhaps even witches, by the looks of it.
As one of the door hinges broke off entirely, I was beginning to believe that losing my arm might have been in vain.
But then a voice drifted down from upstairs.
A male voice.
“How are you doing down there, Hagatha?” It was the warlock who’d stayed behind.
He must have heard all this commotion—more than I was sure he’d been expecting to hear.
“Almost finished?” The ghoul let out a bizarre screech.
“Is something wrong?” the warlock replied.
“Get back in your room and I’ll come down.” The ghoul shrieked again, then fell silent.
The banging stopped.
“Are you back in your room?” The ghoul let out a quieter sound in response and I sensed the creature backing away from the door.
I dared open it slightly and peer through the crack.
She was hovering in a dark corner of the room, just at the side of the stairs, yet not directly in view of the hatch.
What is she doing? A theory formed in my mind about what could be going through this creature’s head, and although it seemed crazy, it filled me with too much hope for me to be able to resist playing along.
“Hagatha?” the warlock called again.
“You know what happens when you refuse to respond.” I banged the door, as if closing it.
That seemed to give the warlock the confidence he needed.
The hatch clicked open and his footsteps began to descend the staircase.
As soon as I heard him yell, I opened the door again.
The ghoul had flown at him and, before he could even aim a curse at her, she tore through his palms with her nails, apparently rendering him as helpless as a human.
She dragged him to a corner of the room where she began ravaging him, just as she’d done to Patricia.
Perhaps she prefers witch meat to vampire meat.
I stared up at the open hatch and lunged for it like a drowning man glimpsing land.
Flying up the stairs, I grabbed hold of a ledge and hauled myself up before bolting the hatch shut behind me.
Doing all this with one hand was so strange.
It still hadn’t fully registered in my brain that I’d lost an arm.
Breathing heavily, I cast my eyes around, trying to make sense of my surroundings.
I was in a narrow rectangular room with white walls and black granite floors.
It was empty, except for a couple of chairs a few feet away from the hatch and one door a few feet away.
I hurried over to it and was about to attempt to open it when my eyes fell on a long dark cloak hanging over a chair.
If I wanted to have any chance of blending in, I’d need to cover myself up.
I fastened the cloak around me and pulled the hood over my head so it covered as much of my face as possible, and gripped the door handle.
It wasn’t locked, to my relief.
I stepped out to find myself in a dim, narrow corridor.
I wasn’t sure which way to turn.
I took a right first.
I found myself in a maze of passages, and all I could do was guess which one I should take.
Finally, when I reached what I’d thought was a dead end, I discovered a narrow set of winding stairs leading upward.
I climbed them and, on reaching the top, I emerged in a corner of a grand hall.
There was a wide set of double doors about fifty feet away and ornate pillars connected the white marble floors to the high, gem-studded ceiling.
Could this be… the palace? I looked around cautiously.
Only once I was sure that there was nobody in sight did I venture out of the doorway into the hall.
Moonlight streamed through the massive window panes.
It was late.
Hopefully I wouldn’t bump into anyone.
I hurried toward one of the windows and peered out into the night.
The building was surrounded by lush gardens.
My heart leapt as I spotted in the distance the same gates we’d attempted to enter earlier, where Patricia and I had been taken by the guards.
Yes, this is the palace.
As I turned around to face the hall again, my jaw dropped in horror.
I was leaving a trail of blood across the pristine floors.
But there was no time to cover my tracks.
Now, my only hope was finding Mona in time before someone tracked me down.
I sniffed the air, trying to detect any trace of her in the atmosphere.
My eyes shot toward the only other exit to this small chamber—the dark room Hagatha had exited from.
Leaping down from the stairs, I raced into the room and slammed the door shut behind me just before the ghoul smashed against it.
This door was fragile enough as it was from Hagatha’s earlier assault.
I wasn’t sure how much longer it would remain standing at this rate.
If it lasted a couple of minutes, I’d be lucky.
If what I’d heard about ghouls was true, Hagatha should have been able to just glide right through the door.
Hell, just escape this dungeon entirely.
I could only assume the witches had cast some sort of spell on this prison that prevented her from travelling through solid structures.
I tore off my shirt and, bunching it up, attempted to stem the blood flow as I kept fighting against the ghoul’s attempt to push open the door.
Then I cast my eyes around the room.
It wasn’t much different than the one I’d just been trapped in—small and dark.
Except in this room, there were several skeletons scattered about the floor—those of humans, perhaps even witches, by the looks of it.
As one of the door hinges broke off entirely, I was beginning to believe that losing my arm might have been in vain.
But then a voice drifted down from upstairs.
A male voice.
“How are you doing down there, Hagatha?” It was the warlock who’d stayed behind.
He must have heard all this commotion—more than I was sure he’d been expecting to hear.
“Almost finished?” The ghoul let out a bizarre screech.
“Is something wrong?” the warlock replied.
“Get back in your room and I’ll come down.” The ghoul shrieked again, then fell silent.
The banging stopped.
“Are you back in your room?” The ghoul let out a quieter sound in response and I sensed the creature backing away from the door.
I dared open it slightly and peer through the crack.
She was hovering in a dark corner of the room, just at the side of the stairs, yet not directly in view of the hatch.
What is she doing? A theory formed in my mind about what could be going through this creature’s head, and although it seemed crazy, it filled me with too much hope for me to be able to resist playing along.
“Hagatha?” the warlock called again.
“You know what happens when you refuse to respond.” I banged the door, as if closing it.
That seemed to give the warlock the confidence he needed.
The hatch clicked open and his footsteps began to descend the staircase.
As soon as I heard him yell, I opened the door again.
The ghoul had flown at him and, before he could even aim a curse at her, she tore through his palms with her nails, apparently rendering him as helpless as a human.
She dragged him to a corner of the room where she began ravaging him, just as she’d done to Patricia.
Perhaps she prefers witch meat to vampire meat.
I stared up at the open hatch and lunged for it like a drowning man glimpsing land.
Flying up the stairs, I grabbed hold of a ledge and hauled myself up before bolting the hatch shut behind me.
Doing all this with one hand was so strange.
It still hadn’t fully registered in my brain that I’d lost an arm.
Breathing heavily, I cast my eyes around, trying to make sense of my surroundings.
I was in a narrow rectangular room with white walls and black granite floors.
It was empty, except for a couple of chairs a few feet away from the hatch and one door a few feet away.
I hurried over to it and was about to attempt to open it when my eyes fell on a long dark cloak hanging over a chair.
If I wanted to have any chance of blending in, I’d need to cover myself up.
I fastened the cloak around me and pulled the hood over my head so it covered as much of my face as possible, and gripped the door handle.
It wasn’t locked, to my relief.
I stepped out to find myself in a dim, narrow corridor.
I wasn’t sure which way to turn.
I took a right first.
I found myself in a maze of passages, and all I could do was guess which one I should take.
Finally, when I reached what I’d thought was a dead end, I discovered a narrow set of winding stairs leading upward.
I climbed them and, on reaching the top, I emerged in a corner of a grand hall.
There was a wide set of double doors about fifty feet away and ornate pillars connected the white marble floors to the high, gem-studded ceiling.
Could this be… the palace? I looked around cautiously.
Only once I was sure that there was nobody in sight did I venture out of the doorway into the hall.
Moonlight streamed through the massive window panes.
It was late.
Hopefully I wouldn’t bump into anyone.
I hurried toward one of the windows and peered out into the night.
The building was surrounded by lush gardens.
My heart leapt as I spotted in the distance the same gates we’d attempted to enter earlier, where Patricia and I had been taken by the guards.
Yes, this is the palace.
As I turned around to face the hall again, my jaw dropped in horror.
I was leaving a trail of blood across the pristine floors.
But there was no time to cover my tracks.
Now, my only hope was finding Mona in time before someone tracked me down.
I sniffed the air, trying to detect any trace of her in the atmosphere.
