The Other Side of the Door

Chapter 15

I looked over to my father to find out that I was not the only one with a knife to my neck. Mr. Whitmore pressed the knife to my skin, very close to piercing it.

 He leaned over and whispered in my ear. "You will lead us to the castle and the beast. If you don't, your precious 'Papa' will get a knife through the throat."

I didn't have to be told twice. There had to be some way that I could warn the servants or Elliot before the mob came, without indirectly killing my father. I had to do something. 

The walk towards the castle was making me sick. I was possibly leading Elliot and the servants to their death. If I had just stayed at the castle, and told Elliot how I felt, none of this would have happened! I hated myself for that. My father could have waited, even if he was sick. I was sure Mr. Whitmore's threat of collection was empty. 

The knife was very uncomfortable on my neck. it kept poking at my skin and I was sure if I took a wrong step, blood would begin to trickle. I was very worried about my father, but I couldn't turn my head to see if he was alright. 

I considered leading the mob to the middle of nowhere. I knew that was foolish, considering they would probably kill my father and I, but at the same time, I didn't want to lead these murderers towards Elliot and all of my friends. 

The problem was, it was like a never ending circle. If I died, Elliot and the servants would probably die soon anyway, because of the enchantment. If I didn't die, and I led the mob to them, at least Elliot would die, if not all of the servants as well. Basically, they were doomed. 

There was a sliver of hope, though. If I led the mob there, but somehow got to Elliot first, perhaps I could help break the curse before Mr. Whitmore or any of the mob members got to him. I held on to that hope as I led the mob to the castle. 

I tried to think of a way that I could get into the castle before any of the mob, so that I could give some sort of warning. 

I wracked my brain for any ideas, but we were getting very near the castle. 

"Mr. Whitmore?" I tried to sound meek and innocent, but I was afraid Mr. Whitmore would be able to see through me. He, unfortunately, had a habit of doing that. For years he had been able to tell when I was upset, or when I was hiding something. I hoped that this time would be an exception. 

"What?" Mr. Whitmore grunted, digging the knife even closer to my skin, if possible. It was surely about to bleed. I had to be very careful with my words. 

"The castle, we are very close to it. The problem is, they will probably see us coming. Anytime anyone has come, they've known before they enter the building. There's a lookout on every side of the castle, so there is no good direction for the mob to come from." 

Mr. Whitmore dropped the knife from my neck and turned to face me. "What are you getting at?"

I swallowed hard. This could have really backfired. "There is a good chance they could hide or escape before we get to the castle, since they will likely see us before we get there. I think it may be best if I go in with Chip, so as to throw them off a bit. Then I can let you in, and they won't have hidden or escaped, because they won't suspect me."

Mr. Whitmore looked very conflicted. "How do I know you won't just warn them in advance?" 

I had thought about this, because I obviously was going in to warn them in advance. I had to be as trustworthy as possible, or else the whole plan was going to fail. "Your men have a knife to my father's throat currently. Obviously, I don't want my father to die. If I don't do as you say, you will likely kill him."