Whoever had gone through her pockets might have missed thezauber, but they hadn’t missed anything else. She didn’t have a single tool on her person. Nothing she could use to cut the rope or help wriggle out of it. She shifted her weight slightly again, trying to feel what was behind her. Sometimes wooden crates had loose metal nails, or something else she might be able to use to work the knots loose. Nothing. She pressed her lips together and tried to think. Now she’d been right way up and still for a few moments, her head was a little clearer. The heat that she’d gotten from Findo had chased the worst of the chill away, but she couldn’t feel her toes, and the cold air was digging into her skin through the t-shirt. She had to move now, before she got too cold and muddle-headed to do anything. If only she had somethingshe could use. If not a knife, then some other skill. Perhaps the investigators had a course in escaping from captivity? She must ask Girard. It wasn’t going to help her now, though.
All she had were her own resources and thezauber, already stretching itself trying to heal her.
But her own resources included the magic that Emmet Lowery had been trying to teach her how to use. She remembered her first lesson with him, in the small library at Cotovatre’s house.Magic is, at its most basic and essential core, the application of one’s will.
The application of will.The words rolled around Hallie’s head. She was sure there was a profound thought in there, and an answer, but the pain in her skull and the creeping cold made it difficult to think. If only she could get free of the rope, she’d be able to move, to warm up, perhaps even get a pain patch.
Rope.
She stared down at the ties around her ankles.The application of will.
She’d done magic before without having a fancy spell or any book learning to apply it. When she’d really needed it, magic had saved her more than once. And she needed it now.
She kept staring at the rope. And nothing happened.
Perhaps she was over-thinking it. She wriggled her toes, relieved to see that they were still working even if she couldn’t feel them. She imagined the rope wriggling the way her toes had done, sliding free and releasing her from the restraint.
To her shock, the rope did what she’d imagined. Both the ties at her wrists and at her ankles slid away, leaving her free.
Now, if she could just hide herself, that would be ideal. The instructions that thezauberhad given her to hide the children came back to her. She tried to apply them, the odd push and pull, in her mind. Her body warmed and magic flowed through her, but she couldn’t tell if it was working. No time to waste, though.She needed to escape before Findo or Jonah glanced her way again.
She was up on her feet before she thought to check where Findo and Jonah were, or whether they were still arguing. She didn’t stop or check behind her, heading away from the sea, towards the piles of crates. That was the only hiding place she could get to fast, get her bearings and work out what to do next.
The restraints on her ankles must have been tighter than she’d realised as she could barely walk for the first few steps, hobbling horribly until her feet remembered what they were for and she was able to pick up the pace. And she discovered one advantage of not being able to feel her feet was that she didn’t feel the roughness of the wooden walkway or the stone floor, just the numb strike of each step against the ground.
Just as she reached the first pile of crates, a shout rose behind her. Jonah had noticed her absence. She should have known he’d be paying attention, no matter how caught up with Findo he’d seemed.
She flung herself forward, into the shadows behind the crate, and landed hard. More shouts rose, and she was able to pick out Findo and Jonah’s angry voices, with Findo blaming Jonah for not making sure the ropes were tight and Jonah telling Findo it was his fault. She heard some inaudible stammering from Brock, who was most likely also getting the blame. Jonah then started shouting at everyone else to get looking for her.
The space behind the crates wasn’t going to keep her safe for any length of time, Hallie knew. Even Brock would be able to find her. Jonah, Findo and the others were all focused on the dock and the water to either side, perhaps thinking she’d just rolled over the edge into the sea. She realised that no one had seen her move. Her attempt at magic must have worked. She wanted to shout in triumph, biting her lip to hold in the sound. She could celebrate when she was out of danger. She glancedpast the crates at the dark water and shivered. Despite living in a coastal city, she’d never learned to swim. The idea of going into the water made her shiver again. So that wasn’t an option. She could try getting in the lift and seeing if she could take it up to the house. But then she’d be in a space full of Jonah’s men, still unarmed. She needed to find some way of defending herself. Get some weapons. And then, if she could, get away. Get help. Find Girard. Her chest constricted with worry. Girard. He should have been here long before now.
She was close to the open door of the lift now. It was tempting. So tempting. Particularly when the searchers headed for the other end of the dock, farther away from her. She tried drawing on her magic again, the push and pull. Nothing but a hollow sensation. She was drained. She’d have to risk being seen. She gathered herself into a crouch and then, not giving herself time to think, sprinted for the open lift.
She had never operated one before, but this one seemed easy. There were two buttons on the inside - one green, one red. She dragged the door shut, wincing at the loud noise it made, and then thumped the green button. With a creak and a groan, the lift started moving up.
She huddled on the floor of the lift, peering down as the ground disappeared, hearing more angry shouts of discovery and seeing Findo’s face, bearing a furious scowl, before the lift rose further and he disappeared from view. Over the creaking of the metal cage of the lift she could hear more shouting and pounding, like someone or more than one person running up stairs.
Stairs. She’d forgotten about the stairs. Jonah had sent men up those rickety wooden steps. She had to assume that they went all the way up to the house, like the lift shaft. She wondered how fast the men could run compared to the speed of the lift, and what she would find waiting for her at the top.
Chapter twenty-three
Theliftcagecreakedand rattled as if a hard knock would split it apart. The sounds of running feet on stairs faded, but Hallie wasn’t sure if that was because the men had slowed down or if the sound wasn’t carrying through the solid rock that surrounded the lift. Despite the apparently slow ascent, she thought the lift was still faster than a man could run up stairs, particularly a human. And even though Findo had been able to almost outpace her on a flat foot chase in low city, he might struggle on so many stairs. He was built for strength and power rather than speed. Or so she hoped. She didn’t want to reach the top and find him waiting for her. Looking up, there was a faint light in a rectangular shape, growing stronger as the lift continue to rise. The corridor outside the lift had been lit, she remembered, and hoped that the clean rectangular shape meant that there was no one waiting for her.
It would be better to be prepared than hopeful, though, and she looked around for something she could use as a weapon.Nothing. The metal body of the lift cage was in one piece and even though it was rusting in places and the door needed oil, there were no loose parts that she could pull off and use. She was going to have to rely on her own resources and whatever she might be able to find in the house above.
So she did a few gentle stretches and moved her feet and toes as best she could, feeling the first prickle of discomfort which let her know that feeling was starting to return. That was a small piece of good news, at least.
Then the cage was almost at the top. She could see the empty opening. No armed men waiting for her. Another bit of good news. She put her hand over the red button. Not pressing it yet, but ready to stop the lift before it crashed into the ceiling.
When the cage floor was just coming up to the floor level of the house, she pressed the button and the lift creaked then came to a halt, the metal cage quivering around her. She pulled open the door, wincing again at the noise it made, and hurled herself out of the lift, ready to take on whoever might be waiting in the corridor for her.
There was no one there. Relief and surprise made her light-headed for a moment. There was also only one way for her to go, as the lift door formed the end of a corridor, so she headed that way. The last thing she wanted was to be trapped at a dead-end. As she moved, she recognised the bare floorboards as the ones she’d seen not that long ago when she’d been dangling from Findo Trask’s shoulder. The walls here were bare stone, and looked as if they’d never been plastered or otherwise finished. Which made her wonder just who had installed the lift. She couldn’t imagine that anyhochlenwould be happy to use the creaking cage, or venture through the unfinished corridor to get to it. Unless it had just been intended for servants’ use. That made sense.
Aware that she was distracting herself with irrelevant matters, Hallie took a long breath and focused. Jonah and Findo might not have been waiting for her, but she was far from being safe. There were at least a dozen armed men around the house and grounds, none of whom would just let her go without a fight. She might have taken Jonah by surprise with her escape, but he would regroup quickly, and the thugs around the house were used to obeying his orders. She needed to move. Get out of here.
The corridor she was walking along had a few doors opening off to either side and then what looked like an external door ahead of her. She latched on to the promise of getting outside. Even without the rest of her stuff, in particular her boots, she still preferred the idea of being out of the house and in the forest to being stuck in the building with Jonah’s men.
As she approached the outer door, she caught the hint of movement on the other side. Biting back a curse, she ducked into the nearest doorway, finding that she’d brought herself back to the storeroom where she’d woken up. At least she wasn’t tied up this time, and her head was hurting a lot less. The lantern on the barrel had been turned off, so no one should be able to see her, pressed against the wall.
