Cassandra Palmer 1(56)
«Um, what's your name?»
«Pierre, mademoiselle.»
«Okay, Pierre. I'm not a witch; I'm a clairvoyant. You probably know more magic than I do. I can't undo a spell for you, any spell. All I know is that woman is going to die very soon if we don't get her out of here.» He didn't look satisfied, but the young man beside him had had enough. He darted forward and started pulling on my hand and babbling so fast that, even if I'd known French, I probably wouldn't have understood him.
Pierre regarded me unfavorably, but he did agree to translate after some prompting by the younger ghost. «There is an underground passage, mademoiselle, from the foot of one of the towers to the river Aude. It has long been an escape route in times of trouble. Etienne can show you.»
I looked dubiously at Tomas. «Can you carry her?» He nodded and moved to pick her up. His eyes widened slightly and he stumbled before getting to his feet. «What is it?»
«She weighs more than I expected.» He frowned. «We must hurry, Cassie, or my strength may fail entirely.»
I agreed and tugged at the door handle. It finally opened after a few false starts—I kept putting my hand through it. I could solidify enough to manipulate things, but Tomas was right—it was getting harder. I was panting by the time we made it to the corridor, but there was nobody to hear. Guess all the torturers were on a coffee break. Unlike at Dante's, though, I knew for a fact that people were around, and that they were coming soon.
The young ghost faded in and out as we started down a different flight of stairs from the one I'd used last time. This one wasn't any brighter, but the yellow feather in his hat had that good old ghostly luminescence and we followed it as if it was a candle. I didn't stub a toe this time, although I was soon wishing I hadn't skipped my jogging session so often. Simply walking down the stairs was starting to feel like running a marathon. I began to have sympathy for Billy Joe's bitch sessions every time I asked him to bring me something.
By the time we got to the bottom of the staircase, I was whipped. I started to lean against the wall but stopped when I almost fell through it. «How much farther?» The young man didn't reply, only motioned me forward desperately. I looked around, but the chorus hadn't come along. I wasn't upset. They seemed more interested in hurting somebody than in saving a life, something that didn't endear them to me.
We stumbled into a passage so dark that the only light came from the bobbing feather on our guide's hat. It became steadily more damp as we continued, to the point that we were soon sloshing through puddles we couldn't see, which I hoped meant we were getting close to the river. The damned tunnel seemed endless, and decades' worth of cobwebs caught in the woman's hair, but I didn't have the energy to brush them off. Finally we emerged on the other side, but only a tiny crescent moon and the spreading Milky Way arching over us gave the scene any light. Night without modern electricity is damn dark, but it seemed almost bright to me after the tunnel.
Tomas' strength gave out a short time later and I had to help him. We put the woman between us and all but dragged her along narrow cobblestone paths. I didn't want to risk hurting her, but sticking around wasn't a good idea, either. I knew what that psycho jailor had planned. Even if she died in the escape, it beat the hell out of burning to death.
The city that surrounded the castle was seriously creepy at night, with the rows of houses leaning so far over the road in places that neighbors on opposite sides of the street could have shaken hands. We jumped whenever an owl hooted or a dog barked, but we kept going. I tried not to look back at the hulking outline of the castle, with its conical roofs making ominous black shadows against the dark sky. I hoped whatever destination Feather had in mind was close. It took a lifetime, it took forever, to the point that all I could do was concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other and not falling over. Finally, when I was about to have to call a halt or collapse anyway, I saw a tiny light in the distance, so dim that I thought I'd imagined it at first. It slowly grew brighter and coalesced into a candle sitting in the window of a small house. Feather didn't materialize, maybe because he was as worn out as I was, but I summoned enough energy to knock on the door instead of putting my fist through it. Finally, it opened and light spilled out, looking unbearably bright after the darkness. I scrunched up my eyes and, when I opened them, I was looking into Louis-Cesar's worried face.
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Chapter 8
I was lying on the ground. It took me a second to realize that I was both back in my correct time and back in my own body. I would have cried with relief if I'd had the strength.