I scan the hall. Still nothing, but I need my hearing unimpeded. I tear off my hat and stuff it into my pants. My ears twitch free. Secrecy be damned.
Bowie joins me, carrying Cecily, her legs latched firmly around his waist, arms squeezing his neck. Both of them are crying. Bowie’s eyes are pinked over with blood tears.
“I need to get her out. We’ll have to come back for the others.”
I nod, and we’re off. Bowie runs at a pace he knows I can match, back the way we came.
As we leap over the fallen guards—still unconscious but with beating hearts—I hear the telltale stomp of boots. Moons, we’re so close.
Bowie whips around to face me. “Incoming! Straight ahead.”
“I know.” I listen, calculating. Maybe six men. I stand a fair chance. “You go. I’ll meet you at the stables.”
He balks. “No, Andras, I can’t leave you.”
“Take Cecily to safety and come back then. You’re fast enough.”
His hesitation pains me, but this way is safest for Cecily.
“Go!” I take his shoulders and urge him on. “I’ll be fine.”
With a wail of dismay, he vanishes.
I gulp.
Guards round the corner. “There’s one of them.”
“Take him down!”
With muscles coiled like springs and my throat tight, I fist the stolen dagger and prepare to fight for my life.
Chapter 25
Aburly man unsheathes his sword to attack first.
I’m not trained in this kind of fighting or in any kind really, but I’m stronger than they are and faster, with a wolf’s instinct for survival and skill at taking down prey.
I’ll just think of them as beavers.
Big, scary beavers.
With swords.
On second thought, maybe I should run.
My feet hit the stones before I can second-guess the decision. The guards will have to chase me, and that will give Bowie time to care for Cecily with less chance of me being skewered like roasted meat.
Racing through the castle corridors, I lead them away from the girls’ residences and toward the great hall. At least I think I do. It’s easy to get turned around in this labyrinth.
Footsteps pound at my heels, but I’m all right so far. And I can go faster than this if I have to. For now, these men must remain on my tail and out of Bowie’s way.
A guard yells for reinforcements, his powerful voice echoing off the walls. Their armor weighs the men down and creates a racket of noise in their wake. The whole castle must hear us. At least Bowie won’t have any trouble finding me when he returns.
I tug a heavy brass statue to crash down as I pass. It clangs to the ground, forcing the guards to dodge and weave around it. Next, a table, then a tall wooden display case. Glass shatters with a pleasing cacophony of smashing wreckage. Shards blanket the stones.
Ahead lies the enormous banquet room. I’ve gone the right way after all. Once there, a burst of speed should put me far enough in front to take one of the many passages from the hall before the guards round the corner to see which way I’ve gone. Then I’ll catch my breath and listen for Bowie.
It’s a good plan.
