Page 37 of Dark Rival

Royce caught her arm. “Ye willna heal in any public manner! Or do ye wish to be accused of witchcraft?”

She tried to free herself from his ruthless grasp. He gave her a dangerous look and followed Aidan outside, slamming the door in her face.

She gasped, reeling. Didn’t he understand? Who cared if the damn villagers thought her a witch? She flung the door open and saw Aidan and Royce galloping through the gatehouse. She ran after them and tripped in her platforms, falling hard. She spit dirt and got to her knees, watching the portcullis closing.

She began to shake wildly. The fear had escalated—and there was so little air!

“My lady, let me help ye,” Ceit whispered.

Allie looked at her. Then she unbuckled her shoes and stood without them. “Help me get out of here.”

Ceit paled. “His lordship—”

“His lordship is just a man—and he is wrong,” Allie cried.

Ceit turned even whiter.

Allie took a deep breath. It did not take a genius to know that Ceit was programmed to believe Royce as flawless as a god. She said, “Ceit, look at me.”

Ceit met her gaze.

“A boy has been hurt in the village. I can help him. I have skills with broken bones! Please help me.”

Ceit nodded. “I can help ye, lady. Come.”

Her heart leapt. Ceit led her past the large, four-towered gatehouse, where both portcullises were closed. A huge circular corner tower was ahead. Allie realized it was another entry point—for through its passageway, she saw a closed portcullis and a second raised drawbridge. “Aye,” Ceit said. “But ye’ll never get out that way.”

Ceit led her into the tower, but not to the passageway leading through both iron gates to the bridge. They passed to the farthest corner, out into the next ward, and Allie saw a wooden door set in the castle’s stone outer walls. It was so small that a man Royce’s size would have to really squeeze himself through.

They darted to the door and leaned close to the wall, in the shadows cast by the still-rising sun. Allie trembled. “What do I do when I get out? Isn’t that a ravine surrounding the castle?”

Ceit nodded. “Go left. Follow the castle walls. There’s a small bridge hangin’ by ropes. Ye can cross the ravine that way.”

Allie nodded, adrenaline pumping. “Is there a road to the village?”

Ceit nodded. “Keep goin’ down the hill. The road will be on yer right. The village be but moments away, if ye hurry.”

Allie hugged her and opened the door. She slid out, closing it, and then she hurried left along the castle walls. She knew there were men in the watchtowers, but she didn’t dare look up. She prayed to the Ancients for their blessing, hoping one of them might hear her and put a spell of invisibility upon her.

She saw the bridge and stopped short. Holy shit.

It was made of planks of wood, hanging by two ropes, and it looked about as secure as a tightrope—no, less. The frigging ropes looked old and worn and rotten. But she had no time to linger and worry. A life was at stake. She started forward, and as she did, she could see into the ravine.

She faltered.

It was a hundred feet below the grass ridge where she stood. And she took one look at the jagged, deadly rocks at the bottom and she knew that if she fell, it was over. Those rocks were not an act of nature or of God. Men had put those rocks there, to kill anyone who fell from the bridge or castle walls.

She sucked air, seized the upper ropes and started crossing.

The wood groaned. The bridge swung. Something snapped.

Allie hurried across, the bridge swinging violently now, hoping that snap had not been the rope but one of her joints instead. She saw the other side. She ordered herself not to look down. She’d never minded heights before, but now, she hated them.

A plank broke away beneath her right foot.

She screamed and seized the upper rope, her heart thundering, and she watched the plank hit the rocks below, breaking into pieces as it did so.

But the bridge remained suspended. Breathing hard, she crossed the remaining distance, and hit solid ground.