Page 28 of Draped in Plaid
He led me down the darkened steps. The light from Rory’s torch fading in and out as we went round and round down a narrow stairwell.
Our footsteps echoed in time with my heartbeat and my breath sounded loud. I kept listening above, being the last in line of us all, waiting to hear Steven rouse and shout of our descent into the darkened dungeon, but there was only an eerie silence. Not even the moans of the prisoners we passed. They’d all long since stopped their pleas, resigned to their fate to be forgotten. Or succumbing to the beyond, but no one cared to bury them.
I pinched my nose with all the various revolting smells, gagging once before I was able to control myself.
At last, we met the dirt floor of the deepest part of the dungeon.
“This is it,” Rory whispered. He shined the light around, spiders and rats running from the brightness. We stood in a line, our senses heightened, listening for any sounds or clues. We were in what appeared to be a vestibule of some sort.
Shuffling forward, we followed the wall, searching for an opening, until we found a tall, wide wood-planked door.
“She’s in here.” Rory’s voice was full of conviction.
A tingling sensation took hold of me, spreading over my limbs, down to my fingertips and my toes. A charge, a pull. “Aye,” I said. I could feel Moira behind that door. This whole place was pulsing with whatever special bond her and I shared.
In front of Ewan, Emma and Logan leaned closer together, her head on his shoulder, his head on hers. They looked almost as though they clung to one another, gaining support. I’d heard whispers of Logan’s imprisonment by Laird MacDonald. Never the full story, but by the way Emma and Logan seemed to unconsciously close in on one another, this door must have brought back memories of his tormented time.
“Let me go behind Rory,” I said to Ewan. “I need to see my sister.”
Logan and Emma shifted behind me, Ewan guiding me forward.
Rory tried the handle, the iron creaking loud enough that all of us jerked around, waiting to see guards rush from the shadows to challenge us.
But oddly, all was quite, too quiet.
“I dinna like this,” Ewan whispered in my ear. “Where are all the guards?”
“’Tis not yet dawn. The night shift could be thin,” I offered, but the hair on the back of my neck prickled, and goosebumps rose up and down my arms and legs. Even my body knew this was wrong.
But there was no turning back now. Moira was behind that door, and whether our senses went berserk or not, we weren’t walking away.
Rory shoved the door open. Whatever lay beyond the threshold was bathed in darkness. Air rushed around our ankles, and I shivered, scooting closer to Ewan.
“Are ye certain ye want to do this?” he asked me.
“Aye.” As much as my stomach was twisting into knots, I wasn’t going to turn back now.
We shuffled forward, my hand on Rory’s back, Ewan holding on behind me. The light from the torch lit up the chamber, a relief from the darkness, but also had the power to bring us to our knees.
Chains and cuffs hung from the walls. Implements of torture—knives, whips, ropes, pliers, and brands—hung on large wooden racks, and in the center of the room were several wooden tables.
One of which held the shivering body of a nude woman.
“Moira!” I hissed out, rushing around Rory.
My beautiful sister turned her blue eyes, faded with sadness toward me. She lay naked on the table, and I whisked off my cloak to cover her. Her dark hair lay in a mass of riotous curls, a pillow to soften her from the bleakness of her predicament. “Shona? Is this a dream?” Her voice was weak, full of defeat.
“Nay.” I threw myself over her. “Feel me? I am real. We found you. We’re taking you home.”
Rory worked to undo the restraints at her ankles and Ewan worked on her wrists, while Logan held the torch in one hand and his sword in the other, guarding the entrance against the guards we expected to ambush us at any moment.
“Thank God…” Moira said. Her voice was soft, her breath rushing against my cheek as she spoke. “Rory? Where is Rory?”
The snap of the leather bindings coming free echoed in the chamber.
Released from her confinement, Moira sat up, rubbing her wrists. I stepped back, as much as I didn’t want to, to allow Moira a moment to kiss and hug her husband. She threw herself into his arms.
Ewan tucked himself around me, and I let him hold me for a moment, closing my eyes against the world we’d traveled to, the torment my twin had endured.
