I follow?
Shaky-limbed from the enforced stillness, I stumbled out from the draperies. Black and glossy as spilled ink, the wood carvings around the fireplace were a rich jumble of fruits and trailing vines. When I peered closely, I could see the tracings of separate panels, but I had no idea which one hid the passageway, or how to open it.
Apples, pears, grapes. Heart racing, I pushed and pulled at each carved fruit. Nothing moved.
“Why should I remove my coat?” Giles shouted from the hall. “I’ve not so much as touched one of those poxy books!”
How close he sounded! I looked over my shoulder and saw that the library door was still ajar. At any moment, someone could walk in and see me.
Panic made me hit the next bunch of apples hard. A stem slid to one side, and a panel swung open, revealing a narrow staircase that led down into the dark.
Another bellow went up in the hallway. There was no time to think. I hopped through the panel and pulled it shut behind me.
Alone in darkness, I stood at the top of the stairs. It was too late to go back and get a candle. All I could do now was to try to get out—and not cross paths with the thief who had led me here.
The thief . . . where was he? In this blackness he could be standing five feet away, and I would not know it.
I held my breath and listened. Nothing.
Still, it took me some moments to gather my courage and start down the stairs by feel alone, sliding my worn leather shoes to the edge of each step, then bracing myself for the drop: edge and drop, edge and drop, a score of times and more. The walls, so close together, helped me keep my balance, but when a many-legged creature whisked over my hand, I had to bite back a cry.
What was that?
Whatever it was, it was gone as soon as it had come. But from the murmurs and rustlings around me, I had the sinking feeling there might be worse to come.
Edge and drop.
What if I can’t find my way out?
Edge and drop.
What if I’m trapped here forever?
Edge and drop—until I was brought up short against a solid wall.
I ran my hands along it. No, not quite solid. For over on the right, there were hinges. Opposite them, I located a lever.
Before trying it, I listened out. Distant rumbling, and nothing more. I eased the door open, only to find a dimly lit brick wall a few feet in front of me. A new smell came through the door, made up of sweet hay and dung and sweat and something else I couldn’t quite remember. I sniffed the air again, and it came to me: horses. A smell I had almost forgotten in my years on the island.
When I edged around the brick wall, I found myself in a shadowy stable full of carriages and carts and hay. At the entranceway,where great doors opened onto the night, a donkey stood waiting, hitched to a two-wheeled cart.
I crept forward and crouched by the doors. Lit only by torches that cast dim pools of light, the stable yard was quiet, except for the guards at the gate some distance away, who were talking among themselves.
Knowing that I could not pass by them unnoticed, I eyed the donkey and cart again. Presumably someone had readied them for a journey—and surely that journey must involve passing through the gates. Moreover, there were several barrels and boxes inside the cart, half buried in straw. Enough straw, indeed, that it could cover a person entirely. Provided she were daring enough to try.
I looked back at the guards, who were still talking. Could I leap into the cart without being seen?
Heart pounding, I hoisted myself over the cart edge and ducked down. No guards came running, and the donkey’s only reaction was to flick his ears. I sent grateful thoughts his way and burrowed down into the straw.
And none too soon. Only a few minutes after I had settled myself, the cart rumbled beneath me. I was on the move.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE DONKEY CART
As the cart bumped and rattled its way through the cobbled stable yard, I braced myself against the barrels. When the cart thumped to a