Russo got them moving again. She led them across the plateau, angling toward the cliff. As they neared it, the footing under them steadily narrowed. It dwindled down to a path barely wide enough for two people, with a sheer drop along one side. Ahead, piles of windblown snow covered the icy trail. Above it, snowy cornices hung like frozen waves. Whatever lay at the end remained lost in the gloom.
Russo turned to them. “Are you sure you want to chance this? Before we lose the light entirely, I can find an outcropping we can stake our tents under. It’ll be cold but manageable.”
Laurent did not bother checking with the group. He freed his flashlight and clicked it on. “We should check it out. If we can’t get inside, we’ll camp out here somewhere.”
Russo shrugged and set off. “Va bene. Stay close, go slow, and watch your footing.”
One member of their party balked at this plan. Katch stopped at the trailhead and tested the air, chuffing softly into the wind.
“Maybe he smells one of those witches that his boss mentioned,” Archie said.
Russo noted the cat’s hesitation and patted her hip. “Venga, Katch, venga.”
With clear reluctance, the lynx followed his mistress onto the cliffside trail. Katch stayed low, taking cautious steps.
Sharyn wondered if they should all heed the feline’s keener senses. Still, as Laurent followed, she got pulled in his wake. Archie and Duncan came after, with their flashlights drawn to better illuminate the path.
They kept to a single file, keeping well clear of the drop. Ice and snow made every step treacherous. Worst of all, the winds came in unpredictable gusts. After ten yards, Sharyn’s legs trembled from the tension.
Then, out of the gloom, a hulking shadow appeared. It blocked the trail. As they drew closer, the path widened into an apron in front of it.
Sharyn gaped as the sight fully revealed itself.
No wonder it had been named the Castello.
The fortification had been constructed of large concrete blocks and smaller bricks, all of which climbed into a tower topped by a parapet. Clearly it was a bit of fanciful embellishment by the Axis forces, who had built this mountainside bunker. Frosted with ice, crowned by snow, this castle looked a part of the mountain, as if it had always been there.
Once Sharyn reached the wider apron, she noted the bunker’s arched entry had been sealed by a gate of iron bars, wrapped tight with chains and a lock. This close, the mystique of the place dimmed. Its façade was scarred and pocked by missing bricks. Its surface was heavily stained by splashes of graffiti, which spilled onto the neighboring cliff.
Sharyn felt a sinking in her gut, fearing Russo’s assessment of this place was likely correct. The bunker had been harshly abused. The possibility of finding anything inside seemed hopeless.
Still, Laurent dropped his pack, fished out his bolt cutter, and in short order broke free the chain. The gate itself—frozen, iced over, and corroded—proved more stubborn. Laurent and Archie shouldered into it, trying to force it.
While they struggled, Duncan drew Sharyn’s attention to the expansive view of the valley below. The storm had momentarily let up, clearing the skies of snow. Off in the distance, a scatter of lights glowed.
“I think that’s San Vito,” he said, his voice muffled by his scarf.
She nodded, remembering the helicopters she had spotted hours ago. “I hope Tag and Naomi are okay.”
“Right now, I wish I was down there with them.”
Sharyn hugged her arms around her chest, shivering against the cold. “And miss all this fun?”
Archie boomed out in triumph. “Take that, you bloody bugger!”
As she turned, the two men shoved the gate the rest of the way open, accompanied by a grinding complaint of its hinges.
With Archie’s face still masked over, she could only imagine his grin. He pointed toward the dark entry. “Who’s for storming the castle?”
As they gathered closer, a harsh wailing rose, coming from everywhere, rising quickly.
“Inside!” Russo warned.
As they stumbled forward, a burst of gale-force winds ripped over the mountaintop. Snow followed, pouring heavily, whipped into a blinding frenzy. A gust nearly tore Sharyn off her feet, but Duncan caught her. Together, they huddled low and dove for the entrance.
Once out of the blizzard and far enough inside, Sharyn shook snow from her body and pulled down her scarf. She turned and stared at the growing storm. “At least we should be safe in here.”
Another disagreed.
