Lindsey steps through the hallways so confidently that, if one didn't know better, they'd assume she was Captain Lewis. She holds the dagger so tightly in her fist that her knuckles turn white, and the blood on her dress suggests some pretty horrendous things.
I don't know where we're going -- I don't even know if Lindsey herself knows where we're going -- but I follow her anyway, hoping that by some miracle, we'll find ourselves with Mitch, wherever he is.
I'm trying not to think of the horrible things that just occurred, but it's a little difficult to block them out. I think that image of K.O. pushing Lindsey out of the way at the last second is going to be burned into my mind forever.
And I can only imagine how Lindsey feels.
As Lindsey walks along, the stone hallways seem to move and change. Lindsey just keeps going in one direction, and the hallways seem to obey her.
"I thought you didn't have any more magic," I point out.
"I'm not doing this. The hallways are moving by themselves," she replies, barely even turning to look back at me. It's alarming how much she's matured. After all, to go from someone who can barely say the word "constellation" to whatever she is now, is a pretty large jump.
"Why?" I ask.
"I don't know," Lindsey mumbles, brushing off my question and continuing to walk in a straight line. I look behind me and see the hallways twisting and turning and rearranging, and it's making me dizzy and a bit sick. I turn my attention forward again.
"If I were an immortal tortured prisoner with a Sapphire obsession," Lindsey begins, thinking aloud, "where would I be?"
We continue walking, and the hallways continue to twist around us. It's almost like they're showing us the way. I hope they are.
For a long while, Lindsey and I walk in silence, following the way that seems right. Lindsey turns left without prompting, as if something was telling her to turn.
I follow, knowing better than to question her.
After a few more seemingly random turns in the hallways, Lindsey comes to a large wooden door with a steel knocker, which mimics the entrance to the lair.
"Here," Lindsey says, sounding incredibly self-assured.
"Are you sure?"
"Positive," Lindsey replies. She inspects the door, looking for a way to open it, but the two of us quickly discover that this door doesn't even have a door handle. "What...?" Lindsey sighs, frustrated.
"We can break it down," I suggest.
"I suppose," Lindsey says, though she doesn't sound like she's all that happy about the idea. She places her hand on the wood. "Maybe it's magic? Open sesame."
The door does nothing.
"Worth a try. Alright, let's break the door down. Can you kick it?" Lindsey asks me.
I shrug. "I mean...maybe," I reply.
"Good enough," she says, running her hand over the wood and tracing the small carvings. "It's a shame. It's such a pretty door too. There were doors like these...back home."
"Back home?" I ask, my focus not really on kicking the door down anymore.
"Yeah, back at the castle. I wasn't that old when they took me, but I still remember things about it. My bedroom door looked kind of like this. Of course, my bedroom door actually opened," Lindsey says, obviously recalling some sort of memory. I don't interrupt her moment; these past few weeks I don't know that she's been able to remember anything about her childhood.
YOU ARE READING
The Clockmaker and the Pirate - EVERMORE BOOK 1
Fanfic"The only thing I've wanted my entire life was to die, to die, to die. But then -- by a twist of fate you found yourself onboard my dinky little ship and you flashed your stupid smile and you gave me the opposite," he tells me. "What's that?" I...
