“’Tis no matter,” he replied.
I didn’t argue, but grabbed my cloak from its hook and followed Mac out the side door. I made a quick detour to the stables, where I ordered the old stable master to saddle a horse and ride after Gage and Michael. The old codger began to argue with me, but one look at Mac’s scowling visage silenced him. Then we rejoined the path leading into the woods between Dalmay House and Banbogle. Mac weaved a bit when he walked, as if his world was not quite steady, and the crease between his eyes had deepened, but he soldiered on, determined to accompany me.
The air was crisp, and ripe with the scent of approaching rain. Beneath the trees, the trail was already steeped in shadow, giving the tense situation an even more sinister feel. I wrapped my cloak tighter and did my best to ignore the noises of the woodland, ones that normally wouldn’t have fazed me. Twice I jumped, once at the rustle of the underbrush made by some small woodland creature and again at the sound of a nut or piece of fruit striking the ground after falling from a tree branch.
I was sure Mac thought I was daft. I caught him sneaking glances at me once or twice out of the corner of his eye. We didn’t talk. What was there to say? Either we would find Will at Banbogle or we wouldn’t. If we did, we would bring him back.
If only it had been that simple.
We swiftly reached the edge of the forest and the castle’s tall, crumbling shape loomed over us. From this angle, I could see little but weathered stone and the section of the ceiling that had caved in over the nursery. But as we rounded the castle to the side facing the firth, at the very top, seated on the edge of the battlements, I saw a familiar figure.
My stomach dropped to my knees. “What is he doing?” I gasped.
Mac and I rushed forward, dodging around or vaulting over chunks of stone. I tripped and nearly took a tumble over one large piece.
“Will!” I shrieked. “You come down here this instant.” Fear made my voice wobble. “Will! Do you hear me? Will!”
He didn’t look down at us, but just continued to stare off in the distance out over the firth. Could he not hear us? Or was he ignoring us?
I glanced around me frantically before turning to Mac. “One of us has to go up there,” I said, at the same time I apprehended the danger we would be putting ourselves in. The floor could collapse beneath us, or a piece of the ceiling could come crashing down on our heads. But we couldn’t just leave Will up there. “Has . . . has he ever done this before?”
Mac shook his head and then grimaced, pressing his hand to a rock to steady himself.
In the course of our mad dash, I had forgotten his head injury. He couldn’t go up there. Not in his current state. Not without the risk of his taking a tumble or passing out on the way up the stairs. Which left only me.
My gaze traveled up the four stories of ramshackle masonry from the scrubby brush at its base to the battlements where Will’s legs dangled over the edge. Swallowing the bitter taste of fear flooding my mouth, I pressed a hand to my pounding heart. “I’ll go.”
Mac looked to me, and I could see he was torn by the realization that he must let me be the one to face the danger.
“It’s all right,” I assured him. “Just . . . just keep him in your sight.”
Without waiting for a response, I turned to clamber over the rocks littering the yard. The entry yawned before me, its heavy wooden door long since removed for scrap wood elsewhere. The castle was dark inside, and I wished I’d brought a candle or a torch, something to light my way. Who knew what kind of animals and insects made their home here now? The thought of walking straight into a spiderweb made me shiver in revulsion.