Chapter 105

The skies opened up about the time Kit found herself in the clearing near the house. She’d almost made it to the safety of the trees in front of the porch before the deluge began, but climbing down from Snowduster and securing him to a tree in a location where he had a bit of shelter hadn’t done much to keep her dry. She ran for the porch with a drenched, muddy gown, no way of getting back on the horse where she’d left him, and the sweet smell of freedom in her lungs.

It wouldn’t last, and she knew that. But for now, she’d managed to escape the castle without any of her guards and found herself standing in the foyer of the house that had been beckoning her for years. She realized she’d had countless dreams of this place, besides just the day to day wanderings she often found herself trapped in. Now, being here for the first time alone, she was apprehensive about the entire situation but decided to see what she could find out on her own. The information she’d gotten from Pierce couldn’t possibly be correct.

There was one hallway she hadn’t traversed the other day when she’d come in, and it was the part that had the most ceiling, so even though there were holes, some of them large, and water was beginning to pool on the already soggy floor, she carefully made her way in that direction. Four doors lined this side of the stairwell, and each of them was ajar. Peeking into one room after another, she found nothing of interest whatsoever. No fireplaces. No discarded papers. Nothing at all that might reveal more about the family that used to live here.

Going upstairs under the conditions was beyond foolish. The floors were wet and heavy, which meant she could potentially plummet straight through. She could slip and fall, possibly even tumble down the steps. No, it would be a very risky, idiotic thing to do, and she should certainly avoid it at all costs. Besides, she’d all but promised Eli she wouldn’t go up there again.

Her hand trailed the wall as she walked back down the hallway and paused at the stairs, looking up. If she hurried, and stayed at the top of the stairs, perhaps she could get a glimpse at the fireplace. Maybe the rain would’ve washed away some of the soot. Her fingers on the wall reminded her, however, that she’d seen something peculiar on one of the walls the other day, something that hadn’t looked quite right. So with one more longing glance up, she went around the corner and inspected the curiosity she’d noticed last time.

There was a ripple there for certain. Not only could she see it, when she slowly ran her hand across it, she could feel it, a difference in textures. Thinking of her own passage at home, she gave the crease a slight nudge, thinking her hand might go right through the old material. Instead, there was a popping sound and a release of air as a small door, one that only came about to her waist, creaked open.

Kit stared for a moment, shocked that there was actually a passage way here. A musty odor of dampness and old wood filled her lungs, but as she pushed the door further ajar, she could see stone stairs leading down into darkness. Kit tipped her head in and strained her eyes to see, but only the top three or four steps were visible before the rest disappeared into the shadows.

“Well, at least you’re not going up the stairs.”

Startled, even though she recognized his voice immediately, Kit hit her head on the bottom section of the wall where the door would’ve closed. Rubbing it, she pulled herself out of the stairwell and glanced up at Eli, a scowl on her face for so many reasons.

“What are you doing here?” His voice was low and full of concern, and even though he was obviously upset and dripping wet, the same way that she was, something about his expression made her want to lean in and kiss him, holding her answer for later. “If your mother has any idea....”

“She doesn’t,” Kit objected, letting go of the back of her head, thought it still smarted. “How would she know?”

“How would she not know, Kit? With Pierce wandering all over the castle asking questions about this place, and the queen forbidding you from ever coming here again after what she thinks was the last time, don’t you suppose she has her guard keeping an eye on you?”

“She has no idea,” Kit replied, folding her arms over her sopping gown, despite the fact that she realized he was probably right, especially if Pierce had been less than conspicuous. “Listen, I would’ve asked you to come with me, but I already know you would’ve said no.”

“Because you have no business being here.” His tone was assertive but not unkind.

Kit wanted to say something in response, something about how she knew that on a logical level, but when it came to this place, all logic was swept aside. She could feel a connection to this home, to this family, and she just needed to know that whatever had transpired here, they’d survived.

Instead, she sneezed.

It wasn’t just one dainty little chirp either. She sneezed several times such that by the time she was halfway done, Eli had produced a semi-dry handkerchief, and she still had to steady herself on the open door for a moment until the sneezing finally stopped.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered as Kit rubbed her nose with the handkerchief. He glanced around behind him for a second before he shook his head and said, “Now you’ve gone and caught a cold.”

“No, I haven’t,” she protested. “It’s probably the dust.”

“Everything is soaked, Kit. Including you.” He made one more look around before he said. “Fine. We need to get you dry, and you’ve left me little choice.”

She had no idea what that meant, but with a heavy sigh, he glanced back at the entry behind him and then stepped around her, stooping so low he was only half his full height as he squeezed through the opening. Once on the other side, he offered his hand, and Kit took it, unsure of where they were going but certain, all of a sudden, that he knew more than she did.

He closed the door, and for a moment, Kit felt as if she’d been shut into a tomb. What little light there had been before was gone, no trace of the door left whatsoever, not even a crack.

“How will we....”

“Hold on to me,” Eli interrupted, and Kit kept his hand held tightly around hers and slid her other onto his shoulder. Slowly, Eli began to descend the staircase. She took advantage of the opportunity to stay close behind him, breathing him in. Despite the wetness, he still smelled intoxicating, like he always had, for as long as she could remember, and even though she was on a journey into a dark basement of a house that could potentially collapse on them at any moment, Kit felt a familiar sense of calm, as she always did when he was nearby. In her mind’s eye, she was taken away to dozens of situations where she’d been frightened or unnerved, but just his very presence had made her find solace. Mixed in with those images, for a brief second, another thought entered her mind, an uncomfortable one, and she did her best to push it away, but it was there just the same.

Once they reached the bottom of the stairs, Eli said, “There’s another low doorway here. Not as low as the other, but you’ll need to duck slightly.”

How he knew that, she had no idea, but something told her he’d have to tell her soon enough. He went under first, and then she bent under, careful not to hit her head again.

“Stand still for a moment, and I’ll light a lamp.”

She nodded, not that he could see her in the pitch black. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, and a few seconds later, a small lantern illuminated a basement about the size of a large bedroom.

Kit took it in. There was a cot set up in the corner near the stairs with a small table next to it. Two rundown chairs sat before a fireplace, and then, on the other end of the room, there was a small table with another set of chairs. It was dry down here, a bit dusty, but it didn’t appear as if it had been unused for nearly as long as the rest of the house, and Kit stood in confusion trying to understand what she was looking at.

Eli lit another lamp then, illuminating the fireplace, and it all became clear.

Her breath caught in her throat as she read the name inscribed above the hearth. The print was smaller than the stately fireplace upstairs she’d only caught a glimpse of. But this one wasn’t charred, so she could clearly read the name of the family who had lived here.

“Goedwig.”