Illuminated: Book One of the White Road Chronicles

Chapter 3

Quiet as a breeze, Princess crept past Ben's room. His deep, steady snores told her he'd be out for a while. She jogged up to the kitchen and paused in the shadows of the doorway.

Cook barked orders, shoving people aside as he marched between the oven and stoves. Pots clanged, and glasses clinked. Tarek sat at the end of a table where his mother, Brie, made pies. She actually liked Brie, though Princess always felt the feeling wasn't mutual.

Tarek stuffed a whole tart into his mouth. His mother rapped her wooden spoon on the top of his head. Princess gave a snort. Served the pesky boy right for following her every move.

Another glance around the bustling kitchen and Princess saw her path to the pantry was clear. She walked briskly, keeping close to the wall, her eyes downward so as not to draw attention. Soon as she reached the knob, she slipped inside the small dark room. The temperature immediately dropped a few degrees.

Hands extended, she followed the shelves of pots, jars and barrels until she bumped into a couple of brooms propped against to the far wall. Pushing them aside, she felt along the smooth stone until she found the narrow doorway. It wasn't much higher than her waist and was partially hidden behind several crates of fancy dishes.

A quick twist of the knob and the hidden exit creaked open. She'd found the secret passage several years ago when trying to escape her tutor. Or she should say, tutor number nine, the one who never respected her personal space.

Of all the memories she'd lost, why couldn't she lose the more horrible ones? Blowing out a long breath, she shook off the unpleasant thought. Focus on the task at hand. She had to find out if the Messenger spoke the truth or not.

Bending low, she eased through. When she closed the door, a sound of something scraping against wood came from within the pantry. She held her breath as a series of bangs exploded from behind the small door.

"Oh no, no!" The brooms!

With only tiny beams of light filtering in through the narrow windows lining the stairs, Princess rushed up the dusty steps.

Hopefully the cooks were too busy to hear the racket. Hopefully nobody saw her enter the pantry and come to find out what she was doing in there. Hopefully she wasn't risking her neck for nothing. No, she had to know.

Her slippers pattered up the familiar stairway, the way dimly lit but not enough for her to see too clearly. About halfway up, she ran through a sticky web. "Ew, ew!" She swiped at her face and neck. Webs clung to her hair and clothes. Something scuttled over her shoulder. She swatted it away. "Oh, eww!"

With a great shudder, she continued upward, arms waving in front of her in hopes of avoiding any more webs.

At the fourth door along the stairs, she stopped and pressed her ear to the dusty wood. The staff should be busy preparing for the banquet this afternoon. Still, she'd need to be extra careful to keep from bumping into any of the guests or servants. Or worse, Darnel.

Convinced all was clear, she pushed against the door and ducked inside. Shelves of fine cotton blankets and linen lined the walls on each side of the small room. Feather dusters hung beside the door. She took one of the cleaning cloths and brushed the dirt and cobwebs from her worn, dingy dress and hair.

Turning the knob with care, she pressed her face to the crack in the door and peered outside. No shuffling of a hurried servant or errand boy. She poked her head out and released a deep sigh. The high polished wood walls and plush carpet ran the length of the whole floor. Though Darnel had a taste of the elaborate, the craftsmen and designers he'd captured and forced to work in his service were gifted. Tall, stately statues lined down the center of the room, mostly representations of himself. Along the walls between the four doors on the wing she stood on, were replicas of armor used by not only the men of his armies but also the creatures.