Wraith(42)

Gabriel's posture was ramrod straight and a muscle throbbed in his cheek, indicating his fury. There was no telling what he would do. I’d witnessed plenty of others with the same look in their eyes, especially during the early days of the siege. It only took a second to completely flip and say or do something that would lead to destruction. Gabriel was teetering on the edge between rationality and fury; I had to bring him back.

I placed a hand on his arm. It was such a small gesture and I didn’t believe it would be enough to calm him but, as soon as my skin touched his, he stopped moving. He was as still as a statue. I left my fingers where they were, marvelling at the heat of his body and how right it felt to touch him. To someone else it would be a fleeting gesture of comfort but for me it was a revelation.

Gabriel was right. I knew in my heart of hearts that we were connected for life. It wasn't just sexual intimacy with him that I craved – although I knew from the look in his eye that when he'd promised to make me scream he had not been lying and there was a lot to look forward to. No; what really made me understand the connection between us was the revelation that I needed, wanted and couldn't bear to stop having him close to me. It was knowing that I could touch him and he would calm. It was knowing that I could touch him and I would feel reassured by the sensation rather than horrified. His muscular body, his handsome face and his glittering eyes were wonderful things but they paled into comparison with the way my heart felt when I was next to him. He made my blood sing.

I lowered my head, ran my fingers down towards his wrist and felt his pulse throb steadily against my hand. Whether it made sense or not, his heart rate did indeed match mine. Goosebumps rose along the length of my body – and I wasn't even slightly cold.

Gabriel was looking at me with an unfathomable expression on his face. His earlier anger and his shock at the news about Marrock had been replaced by understanding. He knew what I was thinking and that I'd finally realised what it meant to be his Fior Ghal. Soul mate didn't begin to cover it; those words seemed trite in comparison to the truth. I'd never truly lived until this moment. I was completely terrified – but maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

I pulled my hand away, absorbing the sensation of loss at no longer feeling his bare skin, then I reached up and gently brushed my lips against the corner of his mouth.

Gabriel still hadn't moved a muscle, as if he were afraid to break the spell. Perhaps movement would make both of us lose all sense of decorum and logic. And we knew, without saying it aloud, that we needed logic more than ever right now. Decorum, on the other hand, could go hang itself.

Pulling back my shoulders, I turned away from him and strode towards the window. I selected the same warped pane of glass that had helped me find these rooms, leaned forward and breathed out, fogging up the glass. With the tip of my index finger I traced out a single word: Torture.

Gabriel moved behind me and wrapped an arm round my waist. With his other hand he erased the word. His breath misted the pane and he wrote his own question: Where?

It wasn't possible to see the western side of Stirling Castle from here so I wrote: Dungeon.

Gabriel nodded in understanding, moved away and poured himself a glass of Ghrashbreg's wine. I glanced at a small carriage clock on the table to check the time. I started to cross the room to look at it more closely when my feet scuffed against something on the floor. It was salt – remnants of the magical circle that Gabriel had used to bind my wraith form. I froze.

I turned and looked at him as he swirled the ruby liquid in his wineglass. I had to tell him the truth about who I was. I just didn't know how.

Gabriel raised the glass to his lips. As soon as he did so, the pieces slid into place. My mouth opened in horror and I let out a strangled yell but it was too late. I was too late. The first of the wine had slipped past Gabriel’s lips.

I ran towards him and dashed the glass from his hand before slamming my fist into his back to force him to spit out the wine. A small amount of red liquid left his mouth and he frowned at me. He still didn’t understand the lengths the goblins would go to; he still thought he was safe. I knew in my heart that the wine he'd just sipped was poisoned. Either Marrock had yielded to the torture and given us up, or this was what Ghrashbreg had planned all along when Gabriel didn’t leave Stirling as he was supposed to.

I pointed to the liquid seeping across the floor like blood. I jumped up and down like a mad woman, trying to tell Gabriel what the problem was without alerting any goblin listeners. His tanned skin was already turning pale and beads of sweat were breaking out on his brow.

I mimicked ramming a finger down my throat and he nodded grimly. He tried to make himself sick but it was already too late; I could see his thighs trembling and his muscles going into spasms as he bent over.

Whatever was in the wine was fast acting and very strong. Ghrashbreg and the other goblins would expect us both to be drinking it by now. I gave us less than quarter of an hour before they came to pick up our dead bodies. Maybe they'd fling them into the same cell as Marrock’s. Whatever.

One thing was clear: if Gabriel and I were going to escape we had to leave now, not at midnight. Given the deathly pallor of Gabriel’s skin, I didn't rate our chances.

I dragged him to the window. I’d never told him where Ange’s box of tricks was hidden and in return he’d never told me the plan for escaping from the castle. I hastily scrawled the question. Escape plan?

Gabriel raised his head. Fever was already lighting his eyes and when he tried to speak all that came out was a groan. We were screwed; even if I could stop the poison rushing through his bloodstream, we couldn’t get out of the castle unnoticed. Even if we got out of the castle unnoticed, I couldn’t stop the poison. But I had to do something.

I thought quickly. Right now, my most pressing concern was the goblins discovering what was happening and finishing what they’d started. I had to delay them from coming here in such a way that they wouldn’t get suspicious.

Gabriel groaned. His knees gave way and he collapsed against me, no longer able to support his own weight. Flooded by panic, I crouched beside him. His lips moved. Filled with hope that he knew a way out of this, I put my ear by his mouth. He had to have a plan.

‘Run.’

That was it. I pulled back in despair and stared at him; he stared back in anguish, no longer able to speak.

Run. Pah. That wasn’t a plan. I couldn’t run and carry him, not when he was like this. Gabriel clutched weakly at my arm as if insisting that I go. I gently took his hand away and helped him into a more comfortable position, with his head elevated on a cushion . He tried to grab me again, his hand flailing upwards, but he was foiled by his own body as a racking spasm jerked through him and he collapsed again.

I wasn’t a doctor and I knew only the most basic first aid. I didn’t have a clue how to help him beyond what I’d already tried. If he hadn’t swallowed the poison before I’d stopped him, simply tasting it had done enough for it to enter his body. I cradled his head in my lap, gently opening his jaw so I could peer inside. His tongue was swollen and blue. It was a wonder he could breathe.

I racked my brains. Delay the goblins and stop the poison. There had to be a way – I wasn’t going to give up now. Then my eyes widened and suddenly I knew what to do. Carefully returning Gabriel’s head to the cushion, I stood up. Determination flooded through me.

I grabbed one of the high-backed chairs, dragged it to the main door and propped it under the handle. It would only hold back an unwanted visitor for a minute or two but a single minute could mean the difference between my life and death. Between Gabriel’s life and death.

I darted back to the window and tried to open it. The catch snagged. Unwilling to waste any more time, I grabbed a candlestick and smashed the glass.

From the floor, Gabriel moaned again.

‘Everything will be fine,’ I said. ‘I’ve got this.’ Maybe.





Chapter Eighteen




Much as I wanted to stay behind with Gabriel and make sure he was all right, I couldn't. I didn't dare look at him as I separated my shadow and left my shell next to his pain-wracked body; I didn't want to know if he'd noticed what I’d just done. He certainly gave no indication that he'd suddenly realised I was a wraith.

I burst through the broken window pane, making sure to keep one edge of my shadow along the side of the castle so that I didn't lose momentum. Pausing only for a second to get my bearings, I slid down the wall until I reached an open window that led into the floor that I needed.

The last time I’d sneaked along these corridors as a wraith, they'd been almost deserted and I was praying that they still would be. But considering that Ghrashbreg had sent lethal poison to the government’s Envoy, I wasn't convinced that I could count on that sort of solitude. Ghrashbreg and the other Filits were probably dancing around the castle corridors, gleefully anticipating our deaths. Rather than holding me back, that thought spurred me on.

I flitted from wall to wall, bouncing between the shadows so that I spent as little time in the light as possible. Harsh voices drifted out from beyond the corridor but I didn't try to listen to what was being said; my focus was on the closed door at the end of the corridor. I bloody hoped this would work.