Page 78 of Mongrel
Bowie slows to a fast walk. Smart, as I suppose two men sprinting through the halls would attract undue attention. So far, there seems to be no one around. The castle is eerily silent.
I hope Janos has managed to remain undetected. I hear no yelling, no clashing of blades, but I remind myself Csejthe is immense, with thick stone walls, and there’s an excellent chance a battle going on at one end would not be heard at the other, even by a werewolf and a vampire.
“Anything?” asks Bowie, his voice barely a whisper.
“Nothing yet.”
We push on. A wide staircase opens to an enormous banquet hall, blessedly empty. Keeping close to the wall, under the shadows of a second-story balcony that lines the space, we explore the perimeter.
Crossing to the far side, I finally pick up a hint of the smell I’ve been searching for.
I cast an excited glance at Bowie. “I’ve got it.”
His face lights up. “Cecily?”
“Yes, this way.” I take the lead and track the familiar smell under an arching passageway.
With Bowie at my back, I follow mint as quickly as I can go on silent feet, my ears twitching for sounds of guards on the move.
The castle is a labyrinth of halls and staircases. I’ve never been in a building so large. Already I’m turned around. If we had to backtrack for some reason, I’d have no idea how to find the tower we started in.
Mint blooms under my nose. Head down, I follow with the tenacity of a hawk diving for field mice. I’m so focused I don’t notice trouble until it’s too late.
“Andras!” Bowie yanks my elbow, pulling us into an alcove and snagging my attention.
Boots clomp toward us.
Guards.
Lots of them.
Chapter 24
We duck as deeply as possible into a windowed alcove, though it’s far too shallow to hide two grown men.
My heart races, pounding a battle cry in my ears. My fingers flex on the stolen dagger. I’ve never used a blade on another person. I don’t want to now. But I’ll do anything to protect Bowie.
Footsteps draw inevitably closer.
Bowie shoulders in front of me.
I hold my breath.
As they pass by, for the span of a heartbeat, I think perhaps they won’t see us. With my free hand, I finger the window in case they do. Surely we’re far enough down now to jump if we have to. I risk a backward glance and cringe.
A barrel-chested guard turns his head.
We’re caught.
“Ho, there. Stand down!” he orders as Bowie prepares to fight back. The other guards take notice. Perhaps ten in total. We’re terribly outnumbered.
Finding the window’s latch, I fling it open.
Theshink-shinkof men drawing their weapons slices through the air. Bowie is a good fighter, but against ten men? I don’t like his odds.
“Come quietly, and you won’t be hurt.” The guard looks all too confident with his men at the ready behind him.
That’s a lie if I ever heard one. “Bowie,” I hiss while shoving the window out as far as it will go. I grab him. “This way!”
