“Where?” she croaked but her throat was raw, and it hurt to talk.
“They left. You scared them pretty good.” Evie chuckled, then she turned serious. “How did you…”
“I heard Bridget in my head,” she said then, her voice stronger than before. “She told me to use the blood magic.”
“You sliced your hand with the stone,” she said, her voice full of awe. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“I don’t remember much after that.”
“When you hit the ground, your hand glowed bright white,” Evie said. “You pounded the floor. The walls and ground shook so violently, the men scurried from the cell as though the devil himself chased them. One called you a witch.”
A natural response to seeing something so unusual. Magic did not exist here. Or shouldn’t. But the little piece of stone in her hand was evidence.
“Bruce will be back. Chlo, he has my stone.”
Chloe frowned. She had forgotten Bruce forced Evie to hand over her piece of the keystone. Now they had to figure out a way to get it back. As she glanced around the dungeon, she saw hairline cracks in the stone walls.
“We need to bandage your hand,” Evie said.
The sound of ripping caught her attention. She turned to see her sister ripping a strip of cloth from her shift.
“You don’t want an infection.”
She made a motion for her hand. Chloe obliged. Evie plucked the keystone out of her hand and dropped it in herpocket, then used the strip of cloth to wrap around her cut. She tied it off.
“I think there’s a way out of here.” She eyed the cracks in the wall.
“How? They’ll never let us go after that show of magic. Bruce will want to keep you under lock and key until he can make you use that keystone for him.”
“I’ll never do that.” The fierce words exploded through her.
Feeling stronger, she stomped over to the three-legged stool and picked it up. She wasn’t sure it would work, but she was willing to try. She swung the stool as hard as she could at the wall. A loud crack sounded. One of the legs broke off.
“What are you doing?” Evie asked.
“Finding a way out.”
Chloe swung the stool again. This time when she hit the wall, the mortar crumbled a little, and pieces of stone rained down. She looked at Evie, triumph pounding through her. It was going to work. Evie glanced around the dungeon looking for something to use.
“Not the chamber pot!” Chloe said. “That’s gross.”
She flung the stool at the wall over and over. Until there were more shards of mortar and stone raining down. Until there was a larger crack. Until the wall gave way and there was a small opening.
Cool, dank air whooshed through it. Evie gasped. Chloe moved closer to peer through the crack. There was a chamber beyond.
No. Not a chamber. A passageway. Odd place for a passageway.
She glanced down at her bandaged hand. Blood seeped through the material.
“I know what I have to do,” she whispered. “Give me the stone, Evie.”
“What? No. Why?”
She spun to face her sister. “Give it to me and I’ll show you.”
As Evie pulled the stone from her pocket, Chloe untied the knot. Her hand still oozed.
She wasn’t sure if she could recreate the magic, but she was going to try. The lines were still glowing. Her blood was still smeared across it. She clenched it tightly in her hand, closed her eyes and let the magic of the stone push through her. It shot up her arm, to her shoulder, across her chest and down her other arm. Then flooded the rest of her body.
