“I am,” Dani acknowledged, in spite of the desperation clawing at her gut. Not only did it sound as if Torquil planned to kill them all tomorrow, but now the only person in the castle who might be even remotely considered an ally was preparing to leave.
Christiana pulled her close for a hug. “I will come for you,” she whispered, quickly stepping back. “My errand will likely keep me overnight, but I hope I’ll have the opportunity to see you both again before you leave for home.”
“I feel certain you’ll see more of yer new sister before she takes her leave of us.”
Startled, Dani jumped when Torquil spoke from directly behind her.
With what she hoped was a courteous dip of her head, she edged away from him and hurried down the hallway to the stairs, followed by Elesyria and their guards.
Torquil’s assurance to his sister still ringing in her ears only served to confirm her opinion of what he had planned for tomorrow.
But for now, she needed to clear her mind. She and her Faerie had some serious planning of their own to do.
Thirty-four
GRAB THE ROPEand tie it round you.”
Eyes squinted against the light pouring in through the opening above him, Malcolm grabbed for the line that dangled over his head.
“But no around yer throat. At least no yet,” one of his captors called down to the amusement of his fellow guard.
They wouldn’t be amused for long. Not once he got close enough to get his hands on them. He’d see to that.
He fitted the rope around his chest, looping it into a heavy knot he could support above the edge of the opening once they hauled him up.
As soon as the knot on his chest cleared the level of the opening, he struck.
The guards, braced to lift his weight, were left off-balance when his weight was no longer pulling against them. Malcolm grabbed the leg of the man nearest him and heaved him forward, pitching him headfirst, screaming, into the hole that had been his home for days.
The second fell, landing hard on his back, his feet kicking against the slick stone as he tried to scramble away.
Intent on the escaping guard, Malcolm hoisted himself up, transferring his weight to one knee in preparation to spring forward.
A move forestalled by the chill of cold metal pressed against the back of his neck.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk.”
He had no need to turn to verify who was behind him.
“Another move and my man takes yer head,” Torquil warned. “The Alfodr may have protected you from a sword to the heart, but I doubt even his mark upon yer chest will spare you from such as that.”
Malcolm doubted it as well.
“Allow him to stand, Ulfr,” Torquil ordered. “And walk him to the wall. You, fool, get up from the floor and put the prisoner in chains.”
Once again the irons were fastened around Malcolm’s wrists and his arms jerked above his head, stretching him to the limits of his height to ward off the pain.
“What now, brother?” Malcolm had grown tired of the waiting.
“An excellent question. One I’ve put many hours of thought into.” Torquil approached, his attention on the bauble he twisted around his finger. “My first thought was simply to abandon you to the oubliette.”
“And why didn’t you?”
“In light of new events, it seemed somehow lacking in creativity.”
Again Torquil twisted the trinket on his finger, a ring which was obviously too small for him. It barely fit past the first joint on his finger.
Malcolm stared at the jewel, a chill settling over his body even as recognition dawned.
