Page 4 of Caroline the Cruel
“Don’t worry about Father. He’ll use his power to compel them to turn themselves in. This will be over soon.” Emmy’s voice shook, betraying her confidence, and silent tears flowed down Caroline’s waxen face as she crawled after her sister through the narrowing passageway.
All Caroline could see was the red of that dagger as they ran, taking little used pitch-black corridors beneath Roskide in which even they became lost from time-to-time. Had Emmy not seen it?
“Ouch!” Emmy cried, as a thud sounded in the cramped space. Her sister ran headfirst into the underside of one of the many stairways that dipped over tunnel sections here and there. “It’s the stair over the west passage. We missed the opening. Turn around. It must be close.”
Caroline ran her fingers across the cool stones, searching for the insignificant crack which split the wall right above the alcove, a spot Emmy defaulted to when she was being lazy at their little game. Hiding spots were bound to be repeated, but due to how difficult this one was to find, it was a favorite of Emmy’s.
“It’s here,” Caroline whispered.
The girls squatted down and tucked in deep. Caroline leaned against Emmy, trying to stave off the chill of the subterranean passageway and her chattering teeth.
They sat for what felt like hours, unflinching, barely letting a breath escape. The silence would have been deafening if it weren’t for Caroline’s roaring heart. How could one be so cold, but sweat at the same time?
“We should probably split up,” Emmy said, finally breathing.
“Shhhh…” Caroline hissed.
“Wouldn’t Father have come to find us by now? Or at least sent Torac?” Emmy’s voice was feebler than Caroline had ever heard it, causing the sick feeling twisting her insides to wring even tighter. “What if something happened to him? And I’m the only living Dallimore. You should go—to distract them.”
“He’ll come. We just need to stay here.”
Footfalls sounded from the direction of the overhead stair. An ominous sense caused Caroline’s trembling to begin anew. If the source of the sound were friendly, they wouldn’t be taking such care to be silent. It wasn’t her father.
Soon, breathing accompanied the steps, and as they approached the crack that the crevice laid beneath, they stilled. Caroline’s heart jumped into her throat, and she swore the hammering was audible. She reached back to grab Emmy’s hand, hoping for her sister’s reassurance, but Emmy had tucked herself impossibly far back in the little cave, leaving Caroline between her in the opening.
“I can smell your fear, little princess. I can hear your breathing.”
Caroline swallowed. Trying to still her pumping lungs, realizing the man only thought he’d found one of them. Emmy must be holding her breath. She should have done that, too. How stupid could she be?
“Come out, come out.” The sound of steel dragging across the stones set Caroline’s nerves alight. So much so that she didn’t feel the toe of a boot land on the small of her back until it was too late.
No, Emmy wouldn’t.
A scream tore from her lips as she burst from the cave with a thrust from behind.
How could Emmy do this? Give her own sister over without a fight. The betrayal stung harder than the smack of her cheek against the chilly stone as she hit the wall opposite the hiding spot. Hands swiped in the dark, grasping for her, as she scrambled with all her might to escape their clutch.
Getting to her feet, Caroline leaped in the opposite direction and started running. She was quick and nimble, she reminded herself as she sprinted. And she had the maze beneath Roskide memorized in the same way other children had the passages of sacred texts memorialized in their mind. She had a chance.
Heavy thuds followed her down the tunnel, gaining on her. Caroline spun down a corridor, but the man whipped around just as fast behind her. A meaty hand smacked into the top of her head as he reached for her, trying to snatch a fist full of hair but coming up short, and she shrieked.
Caroline came upon a set of stairs descending to a lower level and she paced down them, taking two at a time until she came to a platform. She took off as soon as she hit the landing, keeping her hands in front so she wouldn’t crash into a wall in the dark.
Her fist smashed into a corner, sending a jolt of pain up her arm, and a cry escaped before she could stifle it. The man chuckled from too close behind her.
Fingers grazed the back of her silver gown, and the next swing hit higher up, landing on the base of her neck. A strong hand gripped down hard, halting her course, and jerking her around to press her face first into a wall.
She was gasping from the running, or the fear, or both. The blood soaring in her ears echoed and drowned out all other sounds. Convulsions wracked her body. Wait, the rattling was coming from the man gripping her neck.
“Answer me!” he demanded, wrenching her away from the wall so he could shake her more thoroughly.
“I can’t—” she eked out between shallow breaths.
“Where’s your sister?” The man’s voice was as gruff as his grip on Caroline, which tightened in emphasis. She was incapable of responding, so he dragged her down the passageway. As they made their way through the maze under Roskide, Caroline’s panicked breathing evened, and clarity slowly cleared the mist of her fright clouded mind. She wouldn’t make it easy for this man.This assassin.
He was going to kill her anyway, and if he had found them in the hidden tunnels, it meant the Ivanslohe’s had uncovered Roskide’s secrets or there was a traitor amongst them.
Caroline thrashed under the man’s grip, swinging, and flailing her arms, connecting a few slaps against his solid flesh. He grunted as the back of her hand connected with what she assumed was his jaw.
