The deafening sound filled the entryway, and the last of my courage disappeared. I turned and fled, pushing through the first door I found. I ran through stone passageways, noticing nothing of my surroundings, all my attention focused on listening for sounds of pursuit.
Candle sconces sprang into flame ahead of me, lighting a passage through the castle. I considered fleetingly that the lights might be leading me into a trap, but I couldn’t face any of the dark, unlit corridors. My legs protested the exertion after so long immobile in the carriage, but my terror kept me moving forward.
Ahead of me the lights stopped, but I had time for only a single pang of apprehension before a wooden door in the corridor wall swung open. The warm glow of a fire poured out to fill the darkness. I pivoted and threw myself into the room, slamming the door closed behind me.
I leaned against it, my heart pounding and my breath rasping through my throat, while I surveyed the room. The large bedchamber was lavishly appointed in green and gold, the furniture solid and elegant. The four-poster bed looked soft and a small fire burned cheerfully. Best of all, the room looked completely empty.
I checked the door for a key, but found none. A small chest of drawers stood against the wall next to the door, so I pushed it, heaving until it slid across the doorway. An image of the Beast’s broad shoulders flashed through my mind, but I ignored it. The room had heavier pieces of furniture, but I would have no hope of moving them. This one would have to be enough.
My stomach rumbled, my body overruling my fear with other needs. For the first time, I noticed a small table tucked next to the fireplace and laden with a tray of food. I looked around the room again, but I was still alone. The bowl looked as if it held some sort of stew, the aroma rising from it enticing enough to make my mouth water. Sinking into a well-placed chair, I devoured the fresh, hot food, calculating the hours since I had anything other than travel fare. Already the long, boring voyage seemed impossibly distant.
When I had finished, I knew it must still be early, but I had no desire to step foot outside my room. Instead I explored the inside, examining the large desk and peering into the wardrobe. As I pulled the ornate walnut doors open, I stumbled back, gasping. A row of dresses hung inside, several of them recognizable as gowns from my saddlebags. Rushing through the room, I pulled open all the drawers I could find as well as the large chest at the foot of the bed. I had soon located the entire contents of my bags, carefully distributed around the room.
Shame filled me. In my fear, I had completely forgotten about my saddlebags and, more importantly, Chestnut. I had left her shivering in the cold while I filled my belly and warmed myself.
I looked around the room again. I had still seen no physical sign of a servant, but someone had clearly retrieved my bags and unpacked them. Surely the same person would have cared for my horse. It seemed a certainty. Surely…
I regarded the drawers in front of the door doubtfully. Should I go and check on Chestnut? I couldn’t remember the way through the castle, but perhaps the candles would show me the way again.
I imagined myself stumbling through the dark, stone corridors, straining to hear the soft footfall of the Beast around each corner. When I shook myself from the vision, I found my hands had already stripped off my dress and pulled my nightgown from a drawer. I flung it over my head and dived beneath the covers of the bed, blowing out the candles as I went and leaving only the soft glow of the fire to light the room.
I buried my face in my pillow and wept. I could only hope my mysterious helper had indeed cared for Chestnut, and that the poor animal wouldn’t have to pay the price for my cowardice. Because I had come so far but now, at the end, my courage had failed me. Lily would have been braver. The thought of my sister only increased the flow of my tears.
Chapter 4
I must have fallen into an exhausted slumber, because when I awoke, the fire had died and daylight shone through the windows. I reached out instinctively to Lily in my mind, and the emptiness hit me like a physical blow. Curling in on myself, I fought back a fresh wave of tears. I had always known coming here wouldn’t be easy, but I had thought I would have Lily in my mind to give me strength. How would I survive alone in this strange place?
I let my mind dwell on Marin for a moment. Had they found Cole, or were they still busy turning the city inside out? What was Lily making of our sudden disconnection? I knew she would be sick with worry and hoped Jon had prevented her from rashly rushing after me. I thought of her galloping toward Palinar, and the howls of the wolves sounded loudly in my mind. I shivered.
Forcing myself to breathe deeply, I sat up. No good would come from moping and dreaming and crying, I needed a plan. Lily and I had never truly understood our unusual gift; it had always simply worked. Until now—suddenly—it didn't.
I sighed. If only we had spent more time experimenting and trying to understand our connection. More information might have helped me in this situation. But, even without it, I was determined to discover what was blocking our connection and find a way around it.
I looked around at the lush bedchamber. Since my questing projections continued to run up against an invisible wall, I didn't think I would find any answers in my room. Which meant I needed to get up and explore my surroundings. The roar of my fiancé from the night before echoed through my mind, as ominous as the howling of wolves.
I took another deep breath and realized I'd twisted two strands of hair so tightly around my finger I was threatening the blood flow. I forced myself to relax and slip out of bed. Instead of the expected cold stone, my feet landed on a soft rug, sinking into the thick piles. I wiggled my toes, enjoying the luxury after my previous nights in the carriage. I needed to focus on the positives, or I would lose every last shred of my bravery.
I examined the room again in daylight. The curtains were flung wide since I hadn't stopped to close them before diving into bed. I walked over to the windows to peer out. From the view, I guessed my room to be on the third floor and vaguely remembered fleeing up stairs the night before. The room had an incredible vista looking out over extensive gardens.
They had clearly been carefully sculpted and appeared well cared for, although I could see no sign of any gardeners at work. No footsteps showed up in the glistening carpet of snow, either. My eyes stung from the brightness of the white, so incongruous against the green leaves and vivid petals. I couldn’t imagine wandering through such a strange landscape.
A small glimpse of a stone building off to one side looked like stables. My shame from the night before flooded me again, and I immediately decided to make the building my first goal.