My eyes darted to the chair and side table across from Catherine’s painting, the toad-shaped teapot sitting stone still on the same pile of books.
“Teapot!” I hissed, hurrying to kneel next to the table. I stared at its unblinking, porcelain eyes like it could somehow see me. “Baker! Do you know the way out of here?”
“Oh, it’s you again,” the toad said, its lid clinking as it came to life. “Didn’t I tell you before? There was no way out then and no way out now. Only if the Lord allows it. And he doesn’t make a habit of letting his pretty trophies go.”
“But what about Catherine?” My eyes flicked back to the painting. “She escaped, didn’t she? Tell me how?”
“How? Out the window once. Then the bars came up. Then again on a suit of armor’s sword.”
My blood turned cold in my veins. “You’re talking about death. Shekilledherself.”
“Each time he brought her back. Until he didn’t. She lost her mind wandering in circles, dearie. You’ll do the same.”
My jaw hardened at the frog’s words. “I’m not giving up. There has to be some way out.”
The teapot laughed. “At least mind your step. The old mistress once got crushed to death between the shifting halls.”
“Crushed to death?” I glanced at the hallway next to us, knowing the stone would shift and swallow the corridor beyond it soon. The walls seemed to shift most when I wasn’t watching.
“And watch out for the corrupted souls,” the candlestick beside the teapot added.
“Corrupted souls?”
“The dark magic in the air starts to corrupt souls after a time. It’s why most of us seek refuge around the castle. Can’t grow bones out of my eyeballs if I’m a ceramic pot.”
“Maybe you should cut your losses and ditch that pretty little body of yours,” the candlestick said. “Find something to hide in.”
“There’s nothing left for her to take. Except maybe a chamber pot in one of the spare rooms. The Lord might not be so keen to have you then.”
“There, problem solved!” a figurine of a fat gargoyle sitting on the buffet below Catherine’s portrait said.
The objects laughed together, their raspy chuckles echoing in the silent hall.
I rolled my eyes. These souls weren’t going to be any help. Groaning, I got to my feet and approached Catherine’s painting, my thoughts spinning out of control.
If I wanted to find the exit, did that mean I’d have to take one of the shifting hallways to get there?
My stomach churned.
If I was right, I’d be that much closer to escaping. But if I was wrong… I didn’t want to think about the alternative.
I stared down the hall, trying to guess how long it was. Could I make it in time before it shifted? The hall seemed to go on forever, but the stone walls shifted slowly.
I could make it. I hoped. It wasn’t like I had more than one shot. Worst case scenario, I’d die. Game over.
Then the Lord of Bones would come to revive me, like he had for Catherine.
A chill shot down my spine. I didn’t want to see him again. I hated him. And after that dream, I wouldn’t be able to make eye contact with him.
I drew a shaky breath. Dying was out of the question.
After what seemed like forever, seconds before I was ready to give up and take the stairs again, the rumble of stone against stone grumbled to life, breaking the silence. The left wall began to close in, making the long hallway narrower by the second, and I broke into a sprint without a second thought.
I pumped my legs as fast as they’d go, darting down the narrowing hallway. The walls got closer and closer together while the hallway felt like it was stretching on even longer.
My stomach bottomed out. Had I miscalculated the distance? Fuck. Fuck.Fuck!
Blood pounded in my ears as the hallway grew narrower. The stone walls were now inches from me on either side. Jesus Christ, what kind of Indiana Jones nightmare bullshit was this?
