She smelledit before she saw it. The pungent, acrid smell of something burning. Black smoke billowed to the sky. Birdie quickened her steps until she ran the last stretch into the castle courtyard. Stunned, she stared at the fire and smoke emerging from the windows of their schoolroom.
“Heaven help us, the castle is burning,” Higgins gasped as he stumbled down the stairs from the main hall.
She rushed forward without thinking, but Higgins caught her by the arm.
“What are you doing, woman?”
“What if someone is inside?” Birdie shouted. She shook off Higgins’s hand and ran to the entrance.
“It is too late for anyone who is inside,” Higgins said.
“Higgins, get help, call the duke, fetch the men from the village, we need water—” Birdie cut herself off as she spied a moving shape inside the burning room. “There’s someone inside!”
What if it was one of the children? Horror overwhelmed her. She rushed forward, and without thinking, hurtled into the burning building. Smoke burned in her eyes; she teared up and could see nothing at all. She fell back, choking and coughing.
“Is anyone there?” she shouted. The desks and chairs were burning. With sudden clarity, she realised that someone must have thrown them in a heap in the middle of the room and set them on fire. The fire now licked at the wooden beams on the roof. With alarm, she realised the entire structure would collapse soon. She coughed and choked, and called out again, “Anyone? Is anyone here?”
From the farthest corner of the room, she heard a weak “Miss!” She edged around the burning pile.
There. Again. “Miss!”
“Tommy!”
The child huddled in a corner, his head on his knees. Birdie stumbled toward him and pulled him to her.
“Keep your head down,” Birdie gasped, “and hold on tight to me.” A cloud of black smoke engulfed them. Both coughed. She could no longer see where the door was. They would have to get up and run for it anyhow.
At that moment, the beam cracked and crashed on the floor.
They were trapped.
So this is how she was going to die. With someone else’s child in her arms, trapped in a burning room. She didn’t see her life flash by, but oddly enough, heard her friend Lucy’s voice, sweet and clear: “Remember this: things never are what they appear to be. You just have to have the courage to see things differently.”
Her friend, cheeky as she was, had a point. Birdie lifted her head with determination. She would not stay there and die just like that. Not without a fight. She saw that, even though the beam blocked the path, there was a little space on the other side––but not if they waited for long.
“Come. We have to go. Now.” She grabbed Tommy and pushed him to the floor. “On your front. Crawl. Keep your head as low as possible. You can do this, Tommy!”
They crawled around the other side of the burning pile. The second beam cracked––it would come crashing down on them if they did not hurry. Birdie pushed Tommy along on the floor. They were almost there.
Almost.
The beam tilted downward.
Then a pair of muscular arms grabbed her and pulled her out.
Birdie clung to Gabriel,tears running down her cheeks.
“Birdie!” Gabriel picked her up, carried her to the stairs, and set her down. He wiped her face gently with trembling fingers. “Are you hurt?” His voice cracked. His fingers roved over her body to check whether she was all right.
“I am fine, Gabriel. The boy? Where is he?” she gasped.
Little Tommy was in his mother’s arms. Birdie was unsure when Eilidh had appeared, but she clung to her son, rocking him back and forth.
“Eilidh! Is Tommy hurt?”
The woman looked up with a wet face. “He is fine, Yer Grace. He is fine. Thanks to God. And to ye, Yer Grace.”
Birdie felt the tension seep out of her body, and she collapsed against Gabriel.
