Dread stabbed through Gray as he watched Karma go limp. Had the dog succumbed to some sort of poison? Shadow and light danced across the animal’s still body. Gray couldn’t tell if Karma breathed or not.
A rustling movement from the secret passage drew Gray’s attention back across the room. He would have to tend to the dog later. It was now up to him to protect his lady love from whoever dared to enter the room.
A cloaked form shuffled into the half-light. Gray rolled the knife in his hand, gripping the handle tighter. He strained to recognize the intruder, but the darkness, paired with the hooded black cloak, hid the demon’s identity.
The nose-burning scent of fresh pitch alerted Gray just as the hooded figure swung a wooden bucket out from under the cloak. He jumped from behind the bed just as Karma sprang to life and lunged across the room.
A shrill screech split the darkness. The wide-bottomed bucket of pitch hit the floor, wobbled, and splashed the noxious contents, but didn’t tip over.
“Now!” Trulie cried as she popped upright in bed. She freed herself from the tangled sheets and hopped to the floor.
Karma attacked. The enraged dog’s snarling sent chills through Gray’s bones. The animal sounded like a primal beast tearing into its prey.
The cloaked figured screamed again, kicking and flailing against the beast’s gnashing teeth. “Leave me, demon,” a voice cried out as Karma yanked away the cloak and several layers of wadded-up clothing.
Beala kicked and scrabbled away from the dog. She held her bloodied arm tight against her torso as she dragged herself through the closing crack of the moving wall.
Beala? Gray stared in disbelief as the maid disappeared into the inky darkness and the wall slid shut.
“Stay here,” he ordered as Trulie came up behind him.
“I will not,” she snapped while nudging him forward. “I promise to stay behind you but I’m not staying here.”
A frustrated growl tore free of his throat. The stubborn woman would be the death of him. “If ye dinna stay out of harm’s way, I swear I will flog yer bare arse in front of the entire clan. Do ye understand?”
She agreed with a solemn nod.
Gray triggered the hidden release for the passage and the panel of the stone wall slid open. He grabbed a torch from its bracket and held it high as he led Trulie and Karma into the damp tunnel. “She could take several paths,” he said as they came to a narrow turn that split into three different passages.
“Karma can track her,” Trulie whispered. She patted Gray’s side in the narrow confines of the tunnel. “Scooch over and let him up front. We can follow him.”
Gray squeezed to one side against the damp, slimy wall. “Aye. Motion the lad forward. His senses will serve here much better than ours.”
Karma wiggled past, then paused in front of the three tunnels with his head lowered. His snuffling snorts echoed through the winding chambers. He exploded with a violent sneeze, then dropped his head again. Suddenly, he swung toward the passage farthest to the left, slowly tilted his head to one side, then dove into the corridor.
Gray held the torch high, hunching forward to keep his head from hitting the dripping ceiling. His shoulders scraped the sides of the tunnel as they slid deeper into the bowels of the maze. He hated the narrow confines. A man could scarcely draw a breath. “I will snap that woman’s neck with my bare hands whenever we find her.”
“No,” Trulie said. “If you kill her, how will we find out what her deal is?”
She had a tight hold on the back of his plaid and he took comfort in her tiny fists pressed against the small of his back. Their slight pressure somehow calmed him. “What the hell do ye mean what herdealis?”
She patted his back. “You know ... her story. Why she is doing what she does.”
Gray grunted. He didn’t give a damn what the woman’s story was. She could tell it to the Earl of Hell when she arrived at the fiery gate.
A panicked scream echoed up ahead, followed by Karma’s deep, threatening bark.
The stench of stale urine and human excrement hit Gray full in the face as he pushed into the room. Bile rose to the back of his throat and burned. He shielded his face with his arm and turned to Trulie. “Stay back. The air reeks.”
She coughed and gagged behind him; his warning came too late.
“Call yer demon off,” Beala cried as she crouched beside a low-slung cot crafted out of knotted limbs and a stretched hide.
“Karma, that’ll do,” Gray said. He kept his crooked arm over his nose and mouth. ’Twas a wonder the dog had not turned tail and run for want of fresh air.
Karma eased back a few steps, a warning still clicking deep in his throat.
Gray raised the torch higher and shuddered at what it revealed.
