Page 106 of Charmless
“No, Mimsey is a victim herself, imprisoned by Florian and she promised to help in our escape if I would set her free.” But when I glanced up at the pixie, I was startled by the change in her. No trace remained of the pathetic sobbing creature who had pleaded for her freedom. She shot me a wicked grin, thrust her tongue out at Horatio before streaking out the open door and disappearing into the night.
Disgusted with myself for being so easily tricked, I complained, “She didn’t even say thank you.”
“Never expect gratitude from a pixie,” Mal mumbled, his sagging weight nearly causing Ryland to lose his grip.
Struggling to help Horatio keep Mal upright, Ryland said, “We have to let him rest for a few minutes.”
“We’ve no time for that—” Horatio began, breaking off as the distant sound of the bell tolled, announcing a new arrival at the prison gates.
“Florian,” I whispered, exchanging an alarmed glance with Horatio.
Ryland paled. “We’re never going to make it. Even if Ella dons her glass slipper, it will take more than a headless woman to frighten away my brother. We are all done for.”
“No, we aren’t,” I said, quelling my own panic. “I still have the mist pellets Delphine gave me.”
“Ella!” Horatio groaned. It was the despairing sound of a man accustomed to being in charge, to an orderly approach to everything. But I had already reduced his well-laid plans of rescuing Mal to utter chaos. Horatio’s face settled into an expression of wearied resignation as I outlined what I intended to do.
When we reached the outer courtyard, I would release the mist pellets. Under the cover of the magical fog, we would make our way back down the hill to the breach in the wall. Horatio insisted that we should try to reach the place where he and Ryland had tethered their horses, but I shook my head. Mal looked on the verge of complete collapse. He’d never survive a breakneck escape by horseback and if we didn’t manage to get through the gate before the guards closed it, we would be trapped.
Our best bet lay in reaching the boat, although I did have qualms. I hoped that the aura cat that I had drugged was stillunconscious and that Mal’s small craft could bear the weight of all of us. My only comfort was the thought that Delphine would be there, waiting. I had seen how resourceful my witch friend could be. Maybe she could conjure up another amazing feat of magic and reseal the hole in the wall, buying us more time to escape. A desperate hope, perhaps, but it was all I had.
I crept through the open door, ducking behind one of the courtyard pillars as I scouted the path ahead. The torchlight near the main gate enabled me to make out the figures dismounting from their horses. It was easy to discern which one was Florian from his height and long mane of golden hair. My stomach clenched at the sight of him and the four palace Scutcheons attending him.
I could also see the three prison guards that I had terrified into fleeing. They cringed before the Chief Warder. Even from this distance, I could tell the guards were receiving a severe tongue-lashing for their cowardly nonsense about headless ghosts. The Chief Warder looked furious, but Florian’s jeering laughter cut off the warder’s tirade.
I motioned the others to emerge from the shadows of the doorway. My poor Mal had become a dead weight between Horatio and Ryland. Their muscles strained as they half-dragged, half-carried Mal closer to where I crouched behind the pillar.
“Try to stay close to me when I release the mist,” I warned them. “Or else we might lose each other in the fog.”
“Right,” Ryland whispered. Horatio signaled his agreement with a terse nod.
I emerged from my hiding place in the portico, leading the way across the courtyard. I tried to move stealthily but I could not move as quickly as I wished for fear that the three men would not be able to keep up with me.
We were not able to get far before we were spotted. One of the prison guards near the gate shouted out a warning. “’Ware, my lord. Prisoner trying to escape.”
Heads swiveled in our direction. My pulse thudded as fortress guards, palace Scutcheons, the warder and Prince Florian began to rush toward the courtyard.
My fingers felt damp with sweat as they closed about the mist pellets. I had to curb a frantic urge to fling them down at once. But timing was everything. I had to wait for the charging force to draw closer, not near enough to capture us, but close enough to be enveloped in the mist.
My heart lurched when I saw Florian draw ahead of the pack. I could not make out his expression, but I swear I could feel the fury emanating from him despite the many yards that still separated us. I had only a second to fix in my mind the path we would need to follow to reach the boat. Unable to wait any longer, I flung the pellets at the ground as hard as I could.
A bright light exploded, momentarily blinding me. The mist seemed to erupt from the courtyard stones as though a dam had burst. Within seconds, we were all enveloped in a thick fog. I could hear bellows of pain and grunts as men blundered into each other. Someone was cursing. I thought it might be Florian, but I couldn’t be sure. The mist distorted and confused my senses.
I headed in the direction I believed would lead us down the hill toward the curtain wall, taking care not to outdistance Horatio, Ryland, and Mal.Hurry! Hurry!A voice inside me urged. I had no idea how long the mist would last.
It was still thick enough I could scarcely see my hand held in front of my face. I had no choice but to continue one cautious step at a time. Careful as I was, I was not prepared for the paved stonework of the courtyard to end so abruptly.
I stumbled a few steps down the grassy slope. Losing my balance, I fell to my knees. Although my knees and hands throbbed from the impact, I scrambled up as quickly as I could.
But the fall was enough to make me lose my bearings and my three companions. Groping my way through the mist, I tried to retrace my steps.
“Ella!” I heard Horatio softly calling my name.
I spun around, struggling to pinpoint his location. But my efforts were frustrated by the sounds of other masculine voices swearing and shouting. Much to my horror, the mist was fading. I began to make out distorted shapes moving in the fog, drawing closer.
Although I risked giving myself away, I called frantically, “Horatio?”
“Over here, Ella,” a muted voice responded.
