My Darkest Shadow

Chapter 8

My hands hurt with each movement, and scratches formed that I would bandage later. After an exhaustive climb, I grasped the stone edge at the top of the wall. The hard surface offered no assistance as I struggled to pull myself over. Two men reached the top with me. The others were waiting, having climbed quickly.

Around us was a massive stone terrace. Once a rooftop garden, moonlight shone on broken down trellises and bare flower beds reminiscent of a bygone era. Dried out long ago, there was no scent of plants or earth, only the smell of the sea below us. I glanced down at the water and swayed. Over the ledge was a terrifying drop.

We stayed quiet. As Porter had predicted, no guards were posted here. The stone wall high above the water below must be considered an adequate defense.

Porter led us through a large wooden door at the back of the terrace. It creaked when he pushed it open, as if years had passed since its hinges were oiled. Our footfall was soft not silent. I prayed no one was near. When we entered, the rotunda was empty. Unlike Harper Manor, this building had received few updates. Stone walls held mildewed tapestries from another century. Dim lamps hung from the walls with rudimentary power sources added cheaply in the last century.

We left the room, descended a staircase and split up, each heading toward their predetermined area to complete a thorough sweep. On my own, I felt liberated, free of my act as confident leader. With this independence came new fears and a rush of adrenaline. I ran down the hall as softly as I could and found stairs to the lower west wing where I would search.

Deep down, I knew the awful truth. This was a game of chance. These areas were identified by Porter out of speculation. None of them knew where Madeline would have him. There could be hundreds of tunnels and cells. The decrepit building was huge. He may already be dead, my mind warned. I pushed the thought away. He was down here. He had to be.

The corridor was deathly quiet, the kind of silence that one feels when a space has been left lifeless for a very long time. After I had walked the entire space, satisfied that I was the only soul who had visited in the last century, I decided to push on to the tunnels Porter had spoken of.

The tunnel at the back of the wing was even more derelict. Dirt floors and cobwebs snaked across a curved stone ceiling. Usually, low ceilings and dim lighting would be enough to dissuade me, but this tunnel felt different than the rooms I had just left. Someone was down here or had been recently. Footsteps were outlined in the dirt on the floor and webs that had once snaked across the entrance looked broken, their sticky edges hanging in a clump on either side of me. When the enveloping darkness became too much for my nerves, I turned on my torch. I kept it low, praying that no one would come and notice the light.

As I walked further, the tunnel became colder and darker. Porter had advised that these tunnels would lead away from the main building, but I hadn't imagined them to have the structural integrity of a crawl space. The dank smell of age and mildew tickled the reflux at the back of my throat.

The tunnel turned sharply to the right. Far down the path, I saw a light. Torch off, I advanced. A fluorescent bulb hung on a hook in the rounded end of the passageway. It looked as if someone had left it there intending to come back. If they did return, I would be trapped at the dead end of the tunnel.

The hope that had driven me down this obscure tunnel quickly faded. Odds were slim that I could find the right tunnel out what seemed like dozens in the castle. More likely, I would find myself trapped in here when one of Madeline's crew returned. I'd get myself killed. In my rush to be courageous, I had walked into a trap.

If nothing else in this part of the tunnel looked promising, I decide I would go back. I did a turn of the small round room. Cobwebs caught on my arms when I moved too close to the wall. Disgusted, I swiped them off me. To escape the webs, I stepped into the center of the room. The floor beneath me moaned.