The light of the kitchen is weak but I can see the fear in Miss McCleethy’s eyes. A crow’s wings beat against the window. It signals our whereabouts to the others.
“We can’t stay here,” I say. “If we make it to the turret, we might be able to sneak back that way.”
On the other side of the door, the long hall is dark and threatening. Anything could be hiding at the end of it. Anything. Damion draws his dagger. Miss McCleethy leads the way, with Damion and Carmen just behind. Fetry and Kin, holding fast to each other’s hands, follow a pace behind. I am the last, turning every few steps to keep an eye on the dark behind me.
We travel the length of the hall without incident. But to reach the stairs, we shall have to pass the great room, with its newly freed inhabitants. One door remains clo
