A Cold Legacy

“Hensley?” I called, loud as I dared. “Hensley, wait for us!”

 

 

At the bottom of the stairs, I stumbled into a sudden brick wall that marked the end of the passageway. No call answered mine.

 

“Blast, we’ve lost him,” I said.

 

A squeak came from the darkness, though whether it was a child or rat or rusty hinge, I wasn’t sure. My heart leaped at the sound. I felt the wall until my fingers grazed a narrow opening, too low and narrow for Montgomery’s wide shoulders.

 

“You can make it if you lie on your stomach,” Montgomery said. “Leave me here. I have the rifle. You heard Hensley—the Beast doesn’t know about the passages.”

 

I shook my head fiercely. “I don’t want to leave you.”

 

“You must.”

 

I kissed him, trying to convey my love, ignoring what the Beast had said about the secret he was keeping. Then I crawled through the passageway on hands and knees. More sounds came from someplace ahead of me, a sort of scratching that stilled my breath. Was this one of mad Lord Ballentyne’s traps? I couldn’t turn around now, even if I wanted to. I crawled faster, desperate to fill my lungs with air. At last I reached a small door at the end. My hand searched for a handle, a knob, but there was nothing but the smooth end to the tunnel. I pounded on it. Shoved it with my shoulder. Called for someone to help me get out.

 

Suddenly the door was flung open. Light stung my eyes. Strong hands pulled me from the damp tunnel. I coughed for air, blinked furiously as a frigid cold bit into my skin.

 

I recoiled, fearing the Beast, but no yellow eyes met mine. Beneath me was a familiar stone floor, bodies wrapped in white sheets stretched out on benches, a cross in the wall: I was in the cellar chapel. Holding on to me was a girl with dark hair and eyes as blue as my own.

 

“Lucy!” Relief flooded me. Behind her stood Elizabeth and McKenna and all the servant girls huddled together for warmth, and Balthazar pacing near the door.

 

“Juliet!” Lucy said. “Balthazar told us what happened. We feared the Beast had gotten you.”

 

“I thought he’d gotten you! He practically told me he slaughtered you all!” I hugged her close.

 

“He was toying with you,” Lucy said, holding me tight. “He locked us down here this morning after he’d frightened us all he could and grew bored. Where’s Montgomery?”

 

“Safe, for now. He’s in the passageways, but he was shot. He’ll need medical attention soon.” I looked around the room, frowning. “Where’s Hensley?”

 

A deep wrinkle creased Elizabeth’s forehead. “You saw him? He’s been missing this entire time. Just before the Beast awoke, I’d denied him a second helping of pudding and he flew into a rage and vanished.” She tugged on her sleeves, and I saw angry blue welts there. My heart leaped to my throat—suffocating rats was bad enough, but he even hurt Elizabeth?

 

“He helped Montgomery and me escape the Beast, but then he vanished.”

 

Elizabeth nodded. “Good. He’ll be safer than any of us. You should go back into the walls as well, Juliet. The Beast will no doubt come down to check on us soon, and he can’t find you here.”

 

“If I may, miss,” Balthazar said to me, knitting his hands together, “I believe I know how you might throw him off. If you can convince him you’ve left the manor for the moors, he’ll leave the house and you can pass safely through the passageways and perhaps help these ladies and girls get out as well.”

 

Elizabeth considered this. “That’s not a bad idea. If we could get outside, there’s a hidden cellar in the barn where Lord Ballentyne stored his winter ale. We’d be safe there, with the animals to mask our scent.”

 

I hugged my arms for warmth, thinking through their words. We didn’t have much to work with. Montgomery was wounded. Hensley was missing again, and judging by the bruises on Elizabeth’s wrist, he was growing more unpredictable.

 

As I wracked my brain, footsteps sounded on the stairs outside the door.

 

Lucy whirled on me. “The Beast. Hurry, Juliet, into the walls!”

 

“There isn’t time,” Elizabeth said. Her eyes fell on one of the white funeral sheets and she picked it up. “Under here. Lie next to the body. The smell of decay will hide your scent.”

 

I sank to the floor, crawling under the sheet, trying to ignore the rigidly cold body at my side. There was a distinct odor, but it wasn’t the sweet headiness of decaying flesh, more like ice and blood. Elizabeth smoothed the sheet over me just as I heard the chapel’s heavy door swing open.

 

Footsteps approached slowly.

 

 

 

 

 

NINETEEN

 

 

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