Page 19 of A Game of Queens
I closed the wooden panel that disguised the shelter, followed by a thick, heavy rock that I could barely push into place even with the oiled gears. The crunch of the rock slab sliding into place made me feel a little better. I’d made it. Just like we’d practiced.
Without waiting for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, I crawled over to the tiny bed against the wall. I’d practiced finding my shelter blindfolded. Once Auntie Lynnea even tied my hands and feet together and made me slither around on my belly.
I’d made it just fine, but all those other times… I hadn’t actually seen the burning mark on the floor.
I ducked beneath the low bed and pressed myself back into the furthest corner. My heartbeat thundered so loudly that I was afraid the sound would betray me. I couldn’t hear anything but that annoying thump. It was too fast, too loud. They’d hear it. Mama said they had excellent senses.
They’d smell me. They’d hear me. They’d know…
Their power was lesser when the sun wasn’t out, so all I had to do was stay hidden until nightfall. Midnight would be ideal, but any time after the sun set should be safe. They only came when the sun was in the sky.
I tried to relax. I even closed my eyes. But then I saw the smoky outline of that large footprint again. Too large to be human.
Mama. Auntie Lynnea. I gritted my teeth to hold back a whimper. What if they’d already found her? If they’d hurt her?
To protect me, she’d refused to have a blood bond with me. Even a mother-daughter bond could be used to find me. Auntie Lynnea’s nest was enclosed in a blood circle, but she swore itwouldn’t do us any good if they showed up. She couldn’t keep them out. The burning footprint proved her right.
In all the years Mama had made me practice escaping, she’d drilled me over and over and over. Nothing mattered except me. Even if they hurt her. Even if they killed her. They might try to use her to convince me to open the door, but she’d made me swear I wouldn’t open it for any reason. Not until after sunset.
No matter what.
I didn’t hear or see anything, but my nose wrinkled. Hot tar again. Or was that only my imagination?
My ears throbbed, straining to hear anything over my pounding heart. I didn’t dare draw a deep breath and check for that scent again. They might hear. How many had come? Just the one?
I wished I could talk to Mama in my head. I’d feel so much better if I knew she was okay.
Smoke. I could definitely smell something burning.
The house.
We’d planned for this too. My tiny hiding spot was sealed in thick rock walls that would protect me from damage. We didn’t have much of our own. It was easier to hide if nobody was curious about you. If nobody knew who you were. Auntie Lynnea kept her household small, but she did have several human families who’d served her house for generations. I tried not to think about what would happen to them if the main house burned down. If they couldn’t get out. Mama and Auntie Lynnea would help them.
But if they were dead…
A choked sob escaped my lips. I slapped my hand over my mouth.
Howls echoed in the distance, a deep baying that stilled my heart with terror. I strained not to move. Not to breathe. Not toeven think about what kind of dog that was. What it would do to me if it found me.
Sweat trickled down my forehead.
“Princess,” a man called in a deep booming voice. “I know you’re in there and you can hear me. Your mother wants you to come out now. She’s here with me. It’s safe, right Solveig?”
“Yes,” Mama cried. “It’s safe.”
I knew it was a lie. We’d prepared for this. She’d drilled me endlessly. I couldn’t open the door. No matter what she said.
No matter how loudly she screamed.
Even if they killed her.
I clamped my hands over my ears, but I could still hear her cries. I had no idea what the man was doing to her. How he could make her scream so much, for so long, without killing her. I screamed with her. I sobbed until I vomited. I couldn’t get away from the sound. From the knowledge that she was suffering because of me.
Forme.
“Wait until darkness,”she’d whispered when she kissed me goodnight each evening.“No matter what.”
Each hour crept by with excruciating slowness punctuated by her screams. She’d be quiet a few minutes, an hour even. But then the torture would start again. Somehow it was so much worse because I couldn’tseewhat was happening. My vivid imagination eagerly envisioned limbs cut off. Skin sliced away like a suit. Vials of blood splattered all over the house.
