Escaping Notice (28 page)

“But where?”

Hugh looped an arm over her shoulders and turned her with him as
he scanned the grounds. “Did he say anything to you? Mention any
favorite area he wanted to explore?”

“No — nothing. I talked to him earlier about going to the ruins
of the abbey, but he said he had already gone.”

His grip tightened. “The abbey? He has been to the abbey?”

“Yes.”

“Damn it, Helen, we had better hurry, then.”

“Why? What's wrong? He said there were just a few tumble-down
walls. There were not even any dungeons.”

“Well, there may not have been any dungeons, but there were
cellars and the floors are rotten. They have to be by now under all
that rubble.”

“You think he is there?”

“Anything is possible. He is a little boy.”

“But he was not feeling well. The cook said he went back to your
room because he felt sick.”

“Fresh air cures many ills,” Hugh said in a dry voice. “And
there is not much to occupy a boy in his room.”

“Then let us hurry.” Helen shivered and pulled her shawl more
tightly around her shoulders, grateful for the heat radiating from
Hugh's heavy arm.

A chill wind had picked up, whistling round the corner of the
house like a prowling wolf. It smelled of the distant sea and the
spicy green leaves of the boxwood maze.

When Mr. Caswell moved away and headed toward the barn, the
breeze felt even colder. “Where are you going? I thought we
intended to search the abbey.” She hesitated and then followed him
through the double doors.

The horses, sensing their presence, shifted restlessly in their
stalls and snorted with low, questioning chuffs. Hugh moved to one
of the walls and picked up a coil of rope. He looped it over one
shoulder and then gazed around.

Finally, he caught Helen's arm and gently steered her back
through the door. “We may need this.”

Her heart leapt into her throat. She swallowed twice before she
could speak. “Surely you don't think — he could not have gone down
into the abbey cellars.”

“I don’t know, but a stout rope is a handy thing to have.” He
chuckled, although the sound could not hide the tension tightening
his muscles.

They walked in silence, each lost in thought. Finally, Helen
spotted a pointed arch. Stars twinkled coldly through the empty
doorway and the moon, newly risen, iced the scene with gleaming
silvery-gray. A series of broken walls loomed to the right,
shadowed by a tall tower. Huge jagged stones, broken away from the
walls, littered the landscape, giving it a harsh, unwelcoming
aspect that ate up the last of Helen's hope.

Frigid wind whistled through the empty doorway. She rubbed her
arms and stared at the forbidding darkness through that door.

“I ….”

“We will find him,” Hugh said softly.

He strode forward and passed through the arch as if he were
entering a cozy cottage in the middle of the day. Fearful of what
they might find, Helen followed more slowly, picking her way
through the rocks. Each shadowy crevice heightened her fear, her
imagination taking flight. She imagined her foot caught between the
broken rocks, twisted and broken. The wind battered them. She
peered upward. Heavy blocks tottered above, precariously perched on
the leaning walls. They groaned under the wind’s buffeting, sending
small showers of gritty dirt swirling into the darkness.

Ned might have stood at the base of a wall. A sudden gust of
wind could have whirled around a heavy stone and toppled it
downwards ….

“Is he there?” she called as Hugh moved further away, taking the
comforting yellow light of his lantern with him.

“Ned?” he yelled.

The sound bounced violently against what remained of the walls.
Helen flinched, glancing up at the dark wall to her right. It
leaned over her. A dangerously placed rock trembled. She stepped
further back, only to slip over the uneven ground.

She yelped and managed to right herself before the rocks caught
her foot between their jagged edges.

“Are you hurt?” Hugh turned back toward her.

“No.”

He shone the beam from his shuttered lamp in her direction,
temporarily blinding her. When she turned her face partially away,
he reoriented the lamp so one of the three closed sides faced her
and the beam hit the broken blocks at her feet.

The ghastly shape of a gargoyle rose against the wall, looming
over his shoulder. Her heart seized. She stepped back, a hand
protectively covering her throat before she realized the form was a
mere shadow, insubstantial.

“I'm sorry, I stumbled.” Helen moved more carefully towards him.
She could barely distinguish him from the surrounding walls except
his blonde hair shone silver in the moonlight. “Do you see
anything?”

“For God's sake be careful. The floor is covered with rubble. In
fact, why don't you wait where you are? I have to return this way.
There is no other entrance.”

Heart still pounding, she shook her head and glanced around. The
wind rustled unnervingly through the ruins. It was impossible to
tell what was just the brush of leaves against the rocks and what
might be something else. Something alive.

“No. I’m coming with you.”

He twisted to shine the flickering golden light into the area
between the two of them. Crevices filled with deep shadows loomed
around her. The darkness expanded and contracted erratically, as if
creatures hidden beneath the rubble were rising to sniff the air as
they searched for the unwary to move within reach.

Catching her skirts, Helen kept her eyes on Hugh, her fears for
Ned's safety growing. If he was here, he would be cold and
terrified.

She shivered. When Hugh held out a large hand as she neared, she
grasped it gratefully, comforted by the feel of his warm fingers
around hers.

“I — I hope he's not here,” she said. “It is a dreadful
place.”

“It's not so bad during the day.” Hugh shrugged. He held the
lamp above his head and studied the area. “There used to be a door
here to the dining hall. I don’t know if it is still passable.”

“Where is it?” Her voice sounded high and fearful, like the
squeak of a mouse.

“It should be along here.” His voice faded as he moved towards a
black gap in the wall. A low, thoughtful hum rumbled in his
chest.

“What is it?”

“The door is there.” He aimed the beam from his lantern towards
the shadowed rectangle. “The top of the door has broken away. Do
you see?”

She worked to let her eyes adjust, but the flickering light made
it hard to be sure. “I don’t know.”

“Can you work your way over there? You are much smaller and
lighter than I.” He thrust the lamp into her hand and edged her
towards the doorway. “Take the lamp with you.”

Her stomach twisted, but thoughts of Ned alone and possibly hurt
in the ruins overcame her reluctance to clamber over the broken
blocks.

The wooden door, splintered and battered, was missing the
uppermost corner.

“You are right — there is a hole here in the upper corner of the
door. It looks fresh.”

“Too small for me,” Hugh's voice floated over her shoulder. “And
the floor beyond would be treacherous, if it even exists. The
flagstone ends here.”

“Ned!” Helen called through the opening. “Are you here?”

The wind whistled through the broken door, blowing strands of
her hair around her face. And worse, she felt a sprinkle of
moisture. She glanced towards the sky. A dark edge of clouds
scudded over the moon, obscuring it. Her nerves tightened. Rain was
in the air. The musty scent of wet earth and stone already
suffocated her.

She lowered her head, straining to listen. The area was alive
with whispers of sound, but none of them sounded like the voice of
a small boy.

“Ned!” she repeated, louder.

“Here, let me.” Hugh eased her to one side and stuck his head
through the hole. “Ned!” he bellowed. “Are you there, lad?”

A ghostly moan echoed off the walls.

“Did you hear that?” Helen caught Hugh's sleeve.

“Ned!”

A clatter and the faint sound of a voice drifted toward
them.

“I heard him, I'm sure of it,” Helen said, her heart throbbing
with tension.

Hugh caught her shoulder. “Listen to me, Helen. The area beyond
this door is not safe, and I cannot crawl through that hole. I can
try to move the blocks to let me open the door, but ….”

“I can crawl through. Oh, please, we cannot leave him alone
here. It's going to rain, I already felt a few drops.”

“I agree.” He uncoiled the rope from his shoulder and looped it
over her shoulders, knotting it at her waist. He wrapped the other
end around himself, anchoring her to him. “I will help you through
the hole. Once on the other side, do not move under any
circumstances. Shine the lamp around the room and tell me what you
see. You are not to move unless I tell you. The floor is rotten,
but we will keep the rope taut. If you fall, you won’t fall far. ”
He gripped her chin and turned her to face him.

His face was nothing but shadows, but his shock of pale hair
glowed. Without warning he kissed her, roughly, desperately. She
clung to his jacket, absorbing his calm strength.

She could do this. She must.

“Do not endanger yourself. You are no good to Ned hurt,” he
said.

“And you?”

His teeth gleamed in a feral grin. “You are no good to me
either, hurt. I need you alive. I need you to come back to me.”

“I will.” She smiled, heart fluttering. Her thoughts turned to
Ned. “You cannot get rid of bad pennies so easily.”

Before she lost her courage, she raised her arms and thrust them
through the jagged hole. The most difficult moment was when her
arms were encompassed in the darkness on the other side. She
couldn’t see what awaited her. Her fingers curled, afraid of
feeling something brush her skin — or worse, bite. Her imagination
supplied images of golden-eyed, feral bats and wolves, hungry and
prowling in the shadows of the empty abbey.

Then she closed her eyes and thrust her head through. Hugh
gripped her waist and lifted her.

“Ouch!” she complained involuntarily as the rough edges of the
rotten wood scraped her shoulders. She heard the sound of fabric
ripping. A sharp pain lanced her shoulder as a splinter sank into
the muscle.

“Helen?” Hugh held her hanging partway through the hole,
precariously balanced on her hips.

“I'm all right.” She wriggled, pressing her palms against the
remains of the door and stone wall, seeking leverage. She refused
to think that she might fall and break a bone among the fallen
masonry.

“Helen?” a faint voice froze her.

“Ned? I'm coming! Just hold on — be patient.” She twisted and
pushed her hips, ripping her gown. She inhaled sharply as the wood
scraped over her skin.

“Helen,” Ned sobbed, his voice echoing eerily as if from some
vast emptiness above her.

She fell forward, catching herself before she collapsed on the
floor. Her body burned, and she felt a warm trickle run over her
bosom. Minor injuries. She stumbled back to the door and reached
through.

“Give me the lantern,” she demanded. “I heard him. He's here,
somewhere.”

Hugh handed the lamp to her. He caught her wrist, though, in a
tight grip. “Do not move away from the walls. Keep the rope taut.
In fact, do not move at all. Just shine the light around and tell
me what you see.”

She pulled away, too tense to listen. Holding the lantern up,
she aimed the beam towards the center of the room.

“Ned!”

Silence.

“Ned!” Her voice cracked as she shouted his name. Drops of rain
fell harder now, spattering over her face. Her anxiety grew. “Where
are you?”

“Here ….” A faint voice rustled around her, seemingly coming
from nowhere.

The light bounced over mounds of broken slates from the roof.
Cracked blocks rested against the disintegrating walls, curtained
by twisted tendrils of vines and clumps of weeds. The floor, under
a thick carpet of dirt and slate, stretched out unevenly. In the
corner on her right, stone steps rose, anchored against one of the
remaining walls.

“Ned? Do you see my lantern?” She lifted the lamp above her
head.

“Helen?” Ned's voice sobbed. “I’m up here. Up the stairs.”

The unmistakable sounds of his agonized, frightened whimpers
echoed around her. Where was he? She felt tears coursing down her
cheeks. She could not break down now, not when he needed her.

“I've found him, Hugh! He's in the tower.”

“Do not move!” he shouted back.

To her surprise, she felt calmer and emboldened when she turned
back.

“Ned, Hugh and I are here. We are going to help you, but you
have to be patient.”

The only response was the whisper of a soft, whimpering cry.

Behind her, she heard the deafening noise of rocks rolling
against each other and the screech of breaking wood.

“Hugh?”

“I am going to open up the door enough for me to join you.”

Helen eyed the hole, her heart breaking at the continued
sniffling moans she could hear above her.

A flash of lightning lit up the sky, followed within seconds by
a crack of thunder that shook the walls. Helen jumped and watched a
few blocks, balanced on the edge of the far wall, fall to the
floor. Rain started in earnest, pounding on all the surfaces around
her.

She could not wait. Ned might be injured and ill from the damp
cold. She had to get him out.

With shaking hands, she fumbled over the rope tied around her
waist. The heavy knot resisted her probing fingers. Her nails
splintered and broke as she wedged her fingertips under the rough
coil and pulled. It started to give. Working rapidly, she untied
the knot and crept along the wall towards the stairs, keeping in
mind Hugh's advice. The floor felt soft and spongy under her feet,
but it held.