Chapter 32
Gentle light spilled into the room from the slowly opening door behind her. Celia turned as it creaked further open, readying herself for whatever came out. If it was one hunter, maybe she’d have a chance. If it was more than one, well, she wouldn’t surrender easily.
Nothing emerged. The door opened fully and beyond that was a hall stretching toward the back of the manor. Candles flickered in sconces along the wall. There were two doors on the right, one on the left, and one at the far end, all closed.
Celia waited, her heart beating in her ears, but everything was deathly still except for the dancing of the flames.
Keeping her eyes on the exposed hallway, she slowly reached back and tried the handle behind her once more. As she expected, it was still locked.
“All right then,” she whispered and cautiously moved forward.
The trip across the room seemed to take every bit as long as it did in the dark. She moved slowly, staying poised, aware, ready for anything. It was part of the game, she was sure, to lull her into a false sense of security. She wasn’t going to let that happen.
Finally, she made it to the doorway, then moved further into the hall, staying glued to the left wall, watching the two doors across from her. When she drew even with the first she stepped to it and twisted the knob. It turned, but the door didn’t open. It was either locked or the knob was a false one. The same was true of the other door on the same wall, and the one opposite.
The end door opened easily, however. Behind it was a short landing, with stairs twisting around the square opening, leading both up and down from where she stood.
“Weird layout,” she muttered. It seemed designed to keep you on edge, make you feel that there were things left behind you that you didn’t know about. Things that could follow you or make it impossible to get back out.
She leaned over the railing and looked up. Lights flickered along the wall all the way up to the third landing, which was as far as she could see. Down, there was only darkness, the light from the candles on this level only illuminating the first few steps.
Obviously, she was supposed to go up. Which was exactly why she chose down, even though the thought of going back into the dark was enough to make sweat break out on her brow. But if something was down there that they, whoever they were, didn’t want her to see, then that’s where she was going.
Taking a deep breath, she moved quickly, holding on to the railing in one hand. It wasn’t as pitch dark as the front room had been. Once she was in it for a few moments, her eyes adjusted enough for her to see the wood paneling covering the walls, and the half-worn runner in the middle of the stairs.
At the bottom was another door. Unlike the ones in the hallway above, this one was very large, made of wide planks and strapped with iron. Heavy hinges held it to the wall and there was a stout padlock around the hasp. She reached out and gave it a tug, finding that it was as secure as it appeared.
There was no way she was getting this door open, so she turned and climbed back to the first-floor landing, not without a small sense of relief to be back in better light.
“Nothing for it, then,” she said, and started up.
The second floor was much like the first, only the hallway extended further, and branched out to both sides. There were more closed doors that she didn’t bother trying and more hallways leading from both of the side passages. The hallways all ended in a boarded-up window. Like the ones below, some of the boards were on the outside of the building, others were stretched across the inside.
She grabbed one of the inner boards and pulled as hard as she could. It creaked and bowed a bit in her hands but that was it. She realized how futile her idea downstairs had been. How ever she was getting out of here, it wasn’t this way.
Third floor then, which must be exactly where they wanted her to go.
More of the same, a hallway, branches off it, and more closed doors.
Until she got to the end of the left-hand passage. Next to the boarded-up window, a door stood open.
Her annoyance at the run-around she was being given evaporated in the rush of fear that coursed through her. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and slowly crept along the hall, eyes fixed on the open door.
Within the room was the same flickering light of the wall sconces, but no sounds. Whatever was in there was lying low.
When she reached the doorway, she stopped and slowly peered around it, holding her breath. Depending on what she saw, she would either rush in and try to surprise it, or move slowly away, back to the first floor and take her chances on finding a way out down there.
She scanned the room, seeing only the dim shapes of furniture. A large bed dominated the space, a canopy supported by four posts. A cold hearth stood along one wall, the remains of a long-ago fire still in it.
A chair faced the boarded-up double windows with their ragged curtains still hung on each side. And in that chair sat a man, his back to her.
Celia froze, staring, waiting for him to move or speak to her. She wasn’t aware of how long she stood there, but he never stirred. She gathered her courage and stepped in.
“Hello?” She spoke softly, not wanting to surprise him, or to stir up anything else that
