“The very one.”
“Then I have something else I would share with you. There is a secret passage that runs from the convent to the palace. It was built by the late duke. After he and his family narrowly avoided capture by the French when they stormed the city in one of the many skirmishes, he had his engineers build a secret escape route out of the palace so his daughters would never come that close to capture again. You can use that to free the girls.”
It appears all the gods are in favor of this venture, and it is all I can do to keep from leaping over the desk and hugging her. “’Tis a great solution to a most vexing problem. Thank you.”
“So it is but a rescue mission?” Her sharp eyes study me.
I hold her gaze. “That is the focus of our foray.”
“Good. Although if there are other opportunities that present themselves, I hope that you will seize them. You will need to be most careful. D’Albret and his troops returned three days ago, he and his forces riding hard from Rennes. Whatever he had hoped to accomplish there did not happen, and he and his men are in a foul humor.”
That is good news, then, for surely that must mean that his saboteurs were not able to help him gain entrance to the city.
“That is why things are so quiet here. The townsfolk have taken to their homes and closed their shops, not wanting to come into contact with d’Albret or his men when this mood is upon them.”
For some reason, my thoughts go to the silversmith who fashioned the key for me. “That is most wise of them.”
She pushes herself to her feet and crosses to the window that overlooks the moat. “There is something else you should know. There are reports, reliable reports, that the French regent and a large fighting force are encamped a mere five leagues upriver.”
So close! “Did they think to take advantage of d’Albret’s absence by invading the city while he was making war on Rennes?”
She shakes her head. “I do not know, for messengers have been flying fast and furious between d’Albret and the French for the last fortnight. Whatever it is, they may be planning it together.”
She turns to face me. “I do not tell you this to dissuade you but so that you will keep your eyes and ears open. If you were to catch wind of what is afoot while you are moving these girls to safety, I am sure the duchess would be most grateful. Now, go fetch your companion, and when you return, I will escort you to the passage myself.”
The tunnel is long and dark, and the oil lantern the abbess gave us casts just enough light so that we do not trip and fall. The walls are of dank stone, dripping with damp from the nearby river and the moat overhead. The darkness swallows up most of the light from the lantern. It feels as if we have stepped into the long, murky throat of some monstrous serpent from the legends of old.
When finally the meager light shows a stone staircase, we quicken our pace and hurry up the stairs. According to the abbess, since the duke was aware that his own chamber might well be the first taken in any hostilities, the door opens into the room the duchess and Isabeau shared as children.
I quietly lift the latch, then slowly pull the door open—only to be met by another wall of wood. No, not a wall, but the back of a huge wooden headboard. The door is set into the wall behind the room’s bed and further hidden from view by the bed curtains. There is just enough space for a person to pass through, although Beast will have to turn himself sideways, and even then it will be a tight fit.
Yannic will wait in the passageway armed with his slingshot and a long dagger, as we do not dare risk having our avenue of escape sealed off by our enemies.
The bedchamber opens onto a small receiving room, and even though I sense no hearts beating in there, I pause. It is as if some invisible barrier holds me back, my mind remembering all that I have endured within these walls, even while my heart sings that it is different now. I am different now. I had been forced to disguise my true nature even from myself—for what hounds would not be terrified by the wolf that stalks among them? And even a baby wolf must be given a chance to grow. That thought allows me to step into the chamber. Beast follows silently on my heels.
At the door, I peer out to see if there are any guards or sentries posted, but the hallway is empty. “You have to wait here,” I tell Beast. “At least until I know where they are, and how heavily guarded.” His eyes burn with frustration, for he is not used to standing idly by while others put themselves in danger, but he knows that for now, stealth is our best weapon, not brute force.