Page 54 of The Curse and the Silver Rose

Her lungs started to burn and she was light-headed with fear. She could not run forever. Were there any other weapons available to her? She tried desperately to think.

Without a better plan, she followed the candles, which flew ahead of her now, guiding her. She blindly followed them. Only when the windows disappeared and she approached a narrow set of stairs did she realize where she was going. She’d been in this tower once before. Her first day in the castle, when she’d found the room of broken mirrors.

Her heart leaped with hope. The room was full of shattered glass and ample hiding places. If she could get inside before the man caught up with her, she might have a chance to arm herself with a shard and ambush him.

As she got within ten paces of the room, the candles went out, throwing her into total darkness. The man, too, no longer had the candle glow to light his way, and he shouted in shock. Amelie used the opportunity to put more space between them. She vaulted up the stairs, feeling her way into the hallway leading to the mirror room.

The outline of the door to the room was almost invisible, and she felt around until she laid her hand on the iron ring. She yanked it open and ran inside, closing the creaking door.

A meager amount of sunlight came from the window down the back. Amelie tiptoed through the broken glass, her terrified face reflected thousands of times in the fragments. The man would follow her at any moment and she needed to get out of sight.

She found a pair of gilded mirrors that would be large enough to hide between. Panting with fatigue and fear, she ripped off the hem of her dress and wound the fabric around a jagged shard of mirror she selected from the floor.

The door creaked open. Hardly daring to breathe, she eased herself into the gap between the mirrors with great care. If she cut her feet badly enough, she was as good as dead. She would not be able to run or fight.

The man coughed as he tried to catch his breath. His boots crunched across the glass in slow, deliberate steps.

“I know you’re in here, pretty,” came his mocking voice. “I like the way you think, what with all the mirrors. You want to watch yourself while I have my way with you, eh?”

Amelie gripped the shard of glass more tightly through the fabric.

“I’ll have my fun with ye up here for a good long while,” he continued. “Then I’ll take ye downstairs and the rest of the fellas can have their turns.”

These men were definitely raiders, then. Perhaps even some of the same ones Amelie encountered on the road with Trésor, when she first traveled to Castle Grange. With a shiver, she recalled the casual way they’d discussed trying to capture a woman after pillaging her settlement and murdering her beau.

Amelie knew she couldn’t bargain with the raider. These men were not bothering with ransom or threats or extortion. They came to the castle to cause as much devastation as possible.

Davron would be fighting with everything he had. Amelie would do the same. These vile men would not take an easy victory.

She quickly tried to form a plan.

With the shard, she’d acquired a weapon, but she wanted to avoid coming face-to-face with the raider if possible. If he went deeply enough into the room, she might be able to sneak out and run for Davron’s chambers to find the silver rose. Even with the shard as a weapon, her realistic odds of survival in a confrontation with the raider were slim. Raphael had advised her to stab attackers in the back for a reason.

A deafening crash made her jump in fright. The man had kicked or knocked over a mirror. The residual tinkling of glass sounded like laughter.

“Where are you?” he asked in the horrible singsong voice. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Amelie’s heart plummeted. He was getting closer to her hiding spot. The crunch of his boots became louder. Very soon, she would need to decide to run or fight. If he came any closer, she would have no choice but to face him.

Her best bet was to run, and the sooner the better. First, she needed to find his exact location. Very slowly, she poked her head around the edge of the mirror she was behind.

The man was aisles away, but to her horror, several broken mirrors within his line of sight reflected her frightened face.

He whipped around, looking for Amelie in the flesh.

“There ye are!” he hooted, crashing his way toward her, causing mirrors to tumble and smash further.

She darted out of her hiding place and tried to run for the door, but he reached her in seconds. His hand slammed down on her shoulder and whirled her around. Amelie used the momentum to swing the shard of glass at his face as hard as she could, making a deep laceration on his cheek. Blood sluiced through the air and splattered a nearby mirror with crimson droplets.

The man bellowed with rage, grasping at his face. He released her and she struck at him again, sinking the point of the shard into his torso. There it stuck, so she abandoned it and hoped his injuries were dire enough to give her a chance to escape.

“What have you done?” he screamed. “Bitch!”

She picked her way back toward the door, desperate to sprint but knowing she’d mince her feet on the glass if she did. As she reached the doorway, the man started coming after her, swearing loudly. The amused tone in his voice was gone now, replaced with absolute fury.

“I’ll make ye wish ye hadn’t done that,” he spat after her.

The candles lit up as Amelie raced down the stairs. Her only hope was to get to Davron’s chambers before the raider caught her. She prayed she did not run headlong into more raiders on the way.

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