Chasing Shadows (45 page)

“Tomorrow at sunset.” He hadn’t noticed her internal plight.

Tomorrow! Could she and Will find, release the physician, and get him to testify against Cadius in a day? Her mind worked furiously to conjure up some sort of working plan, but she was too shaken to think properly. She tried to sound normal and managed to croak, “You must be glad for this.”

Damien grunted and rubbed his bicep absentmindedly, massaging his wound. It must have been bothering him, but she wasn’t sure she was in the state of mind to tend to it properly. “I don’t want a murderer loose on the streets,” he said after a pause, his voice thoughtful. “But I have never brought myself to take part in a hanging. It all seems so . . . undignified and final, like losing ones life to a pack of wild dogs. No man deserves such a dishonor.”

Relieved to hear him speak of the man who had attacked him with compassion rather than the animosity she would have understood, Sarah nodded in agreement. Fighting the nausea clawing at her throat, she whispered, “I really need to go. Please excuse me.”

He stepped back so she could pass. “Of course. But, Sarah.” She halted mid-stride, unable to ignore him when he called her name. He dipped his head so they were at eye-level, and she could only see the flecks of gold dancing in the darkness. “I meant what I said. You are worth waiting for.”

“I-I need some time to think,” she stammered. The outline of his head bobbed.

“I will be here when you get back.”

She hurried past him and back up the stairs, praying Will would come soon and afraid of what might happen if he didn’t.

****

Morning passed and then the noon meal with no sign of him. Sarah kept to the east halls to avoid running into Damien, wandering the empty corridors aimlessly as she gnawed on her nearly nonexistent thumbnail. Something was going down soon, she reasoned, if they were in such a hurry to silence Malcolm. But what?

She stopped dead in her tracks. Was the prince’s coronation coming up soon? Could that be it? Sarah hadn’t heard any talk of it, but Serimone couldn’t go on without a king forever. Was Cadius making a move for the throne and eliminating all loose ends? That made sense, but what would that mean for the prince and the queen? Sarah doubted they would give up the throne without a fight. Didn’t that mean they were just more obstacles in his way?

Voices carried to her, startling her from her thoughts. Two manservants were heading her way, engaged in quiet conversation. Sarah’s eyes instinctively flew to the nearest open doorway, and she quickly darted inside before either man spotted her, hiding behind the door. It was a bit excessive, but she was so used to sneaking around that she was starting to become jumpy and paranoid. And with a killer like Cadius on the loose, she had every right to be.

She sent a cursory glance over the room as the men passed by—the furnishings looked oddly familiar—then her gaze landed on the closed doorway near the hearth and she instantly knew where she was. Sarah moved across the room with light steps, listening at the door before cracking it just enough for her to squeeze through the opening.

The room looked exactly as it had the day the physician stabbed Damien, though the stained rug had been thoroughly cleaned. She acknowledged the fact that coming here was more than likely a dead end, but with Malcolm set to hang tomorrow and with no way to reach out to him, this was the best she could do. She hoped he had left something behind in the scuffle, some clue that could help both of them now.

Ensuring that both doors were closed, she found that the one leading to the hallway was locked from the outside, which worried her. Sarah got down on her hands and knees and started searching the carpet, under the sofa, rubbing her hands over the cushions—she even tipped an empty vase upside down at one point, all to no avail.

“What are you looking for?”

She spun toward the owner of the voice before its familiarity registered, clutching the oversized vase to her chest like it was a lifeline. Will was crouched on the windowsill, holding the drapes aside, the corner of his mouth tipping in amusement.

A bubble of relief escaped her lips in a breathy laugh. She set the delicate pot back on its perch and shot him a self-conscious grin. “I’m not exactly sure.” She watched as he stepped onto the long bench, his eyes on her. They both appeared a little awkward as she crossed the room to him, her steps hesitant. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to hug him, give him a sweet peck on the lips, or if she should initiate a high-five.

Thankfully, Will made the decision for her. When she was close enough to touch, he reached out to brush her cheek with the back of his knuckles. His soft smile sent a thrill through her. “Afternoon,” he whispered.

All she could manage was a weak, “Uh-huh.” Blessedly, she didn’t have enough sense of mind to feel embarrassed at the moment.

His hand moved to the back of her neck, thumb brushing the skin under her ear. Sarah stood stock-still. “You know,” he murmured thoughtfully, smiling, “I missed you this morning.”

Her lips seemed to have a mind of their own as they tipped. “Did you, now?”   

Closing his eyes, he chuckled, tugging her in for a hug. They stayed like that for a full minute, neither voicing their feelings, but both seemed to already sense what the other was thinking. His arms enveloped her, holding her gently against his solid chest. It made her feel small and safe and protected.

Sarah felt her smile grow as she tightened her hold on his waist. She could get used to this.

Will buried his nose in her hair and inhaled. “You smell nice.” She felt her heart race. “Like—” He pulled his head back abruptly, still holding her. “Do you smell that?”

When he shifted his gaze, Sarah tried to subtly sniff her hair. She knew she hadn’t had a shower in a while, but it wasn’t like she’d been running a marathon in Arizona. She took another whiff. Maybe it was more of a mood killer than she’d realized.

Will’s arms dropped from around her, and she immediately missed their warmth. He took a breath, eyes searching the room. “What on earth . . .” His voice drifted off. He bent down, running his thumb over the splintered corner of the bench. Then he slipped his fingers under the lip and hoisted the lid up. She heard his gasp, though his back was blocking her view of the chest.

“What is it?” She moved to look over his shoulder.

“No, Sarah—stay back!”

But he was too late. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth, stifling the scream that pressed against her palms. Though his face was gray and he already reeked of decay, it only took half a heartbeat for her to recognize Gabriel Dunlivey’s face.  

~Chapter 39~

Sarah wanted to stumble backward, to fall onto the sofa and release the scream clawing its way up her throat as she stared at his face, still contorted in the fear and rage he had felt at the moment of his death. But her throat had closed, and she appeared rooted to the floor, having no choice but to stare at Gabriel’s twisted and hallow features, his gaping mouth. Even after Will had closed the lid, hiding the man’s oversized body from view, she stared at the wood, picturing his gray face and sunken eyes staring back at her. She didn’t even realize that Will was holding her, moving her away from the chest.

“They just stuffed him in there,” she whispered, shaking her head frantically to dispel the horrific image. When that didn’t work, she buried her face in Will’s shirt, clutching the fabric with desperate fingers.

He stroked the back of her head, trying to soothe her. But his body was tense, and she knew the sight had upset him, as well. “He can’t hurt you.” His arms tightened when the tremors racked her body, and he buried his face in her hair. Sarah had a feeling that he was drawing comfort from her presence as much as she was seeking it in his, and it suddenly dawned on her why he was so upset.

“Your parents,” she whispered against his chest. He had vowed to avenge their deaths by bringing down their murderer, but it appeared someone else had already taken that into their own hands.

Will hesitated for a second too long for her to believe his words. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Someone got to him first.”   

They were by the window cattycorner to Gabriel’s makeshift coffin. Sarah turned her head, needing to breathe the fresh air. Although she hadn’t picked up the scent of his decomposing body for more than a few seconds, she could still smell it, burrowing into her senses until the cloying stench was nearly overwhelming. “But why?” She barely managed to choke the words past her trembling lips, staring out at the rooftops of the village with wide, unfocused eyes.

“I-I don’t know.” But it sounded like he wished he did.

The latch clicked as someone turned a key in the lock outside. Sarah pulled her head back in time to see the door open slowly, her rapid pulse sensing the danger before she did. But Will was quicker than she, and he had both of them behind the drape by the time the door opened wide enough to admit two hunched forms. That was all she saw before Will pulled the covering back into place, steadying the fabric with his hand.

There was hardly space enough for two, even with their backs pressed flat against the stones, and Sarah tucked herself into the corner to give Will more room. But he slid along the wall, matching her retreat, until the right side of his body half covered hers. His back rose and fell against her shoulder in rapid movements, and she knew he was alarmed by their presence. She swallowed.

Eyes wide with fear, Sarah frantically scanned the drape for the shifting forms she imagined would appear, but she couldn’t make out a thing as the men entered the room and closed the door. She heard their light steps as they moved across the floor toward them, and she shrank a little deeper into the corner, feeling Will stiffen beside her.

“It’s in here?” one of them asked lowly.

“The body was stashed for safekeeping,” the other replied. His voice triggered a memory, but it took her a moment to place his features. She wondered if Damien knew of this, or if Timmons was going behind his back, doing someone else’s dirty work. Sarah wasn’t sure how medieval alliances worked, but she had the sense that he wasn’t as loyal to Damien as he should be.

“Here?” the first man asked. Sarah heard the lid of the chest tap the wall quietly. Something
thunked
against the wood, a hollow sound. The man grunted. “Help me with this, will you?”

They hefted Gabriel’s body from the chest, groaning and grunting as they did. Sarah grimaced at the
thump
Grabriel’s body made when it was dropped carelessly on the floor. Will shifted, moving the curtains just enough to see what was going on. But she squeezed her eyes tight, not wanting to glimpse the corpse again.

“What about the blood?”

“We’ll take care of it later.”

She heard the two shuffling around, toying with some kind of fabric—burlap?—and then she thought they might have rolled Gabriel’s body over.

A sudden breeze caught the drape, circling around her and Will and catching in a bubble against the fabric. Her eyes widened in alarm as the edge of the drape curled and fanned, forming to the wind’s movement. Will pressed closer to her, trying to keep from being spotted and to shield her body from view, though she knew the effort would be for naught if he was discovered.

But the men kept working quietly over Gabriel’s body, none the wiser. The breeze died down, the drape settling into place—there was never a pause in the twosome’s work that hinted at them having spotted the concealed trespassers, and Will exhaled beside her.

“Our window’s closing,” Timmons whispered. “We need to get him to the tunnels now. Everything is already set.” The men groaned again, and it sounded like they were sliding the body across the floor. Sarah hadn’t realized that she was holding her breath until the hall door closed behind them and she released it in a gusty sigh.

Will’s muscles seemed to move one at a time as he leaned out to see if they had really gone. Panicked, she reached for his arm, clutching his bicep. He looked at her and caught the slight shake of her head, eyes wide.

Pressing a finger to his lips, he gave her a reassuring nod before leaning his head out. “They’re gone,” he breathed, barely above a whisper—he was still on edge, even in the grave robbers’ absence.

Then he took her hand, gently coaxing her from their hiding place. Sarah moved slowly, her tense muscles unfurling painfully as the blood returned in a rush to her legs. She was half expecting the two men to hear their breathing and come back to investigate, but the room was empty. The lid of the chest was closed again, and there was no sign that either man had been there.

Will released her to open the chest, swearing softly under his breath at the vacant depths.

“They stole his body,” Sarah whispered in shock and confusion. She met his pinched gaze. “We can’t just let them get away with him. What should we do?”

His eyes focused on the door, and he frowned, expression grim. “Follow.”

****

It didn’t take her as long as she’d expected to convince Will to take her along. Though she suspected that it was in part because he knew she would persist: The two men had more of an edge on them each moment that they wasted arguing.

They were only a few minutes behind Gabriel’s body, and Will’s keen eyes quickly picked up the drag marks left in his wake; scattered stones, upset dust, and a crooked chair—all leading them downward into dimly lit passages.

Sarah was sure they had lost their trail, but it wasn’t long before Will heard the familiar scratching and grunting sounds again and quickened his pace, urging her on with him. They spotted the men as they passed under a torch a ways down the long corridor, and Sarah caught a flash of the bulky sack encasing Gabriel’s body before it disappeared around a corner. Seeing them made her feel too eager, and Will had to gently tug her back to slow her steps to match his.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “We have them, but we need to remain unseen.” She nodded in agreement, tamping down the desire to sprint after them.

They came to the same crossroads the men had taken, and she could feel Will’s tension build as his hand tightened around hers. “What are they doing down here?” he whispered. His pace became clipped, and she wondered at his sudden edginess.

“What’s wrong?” she asked under her breath. The tunnel was void of life ahead of them, and she wondered if they’d made a wrong turn.

“They’re going outside,” he returned lowly. He sounded confused. “I assumed they would want to examine the body, but it looks as though they’re going to dispose of it, instead.”

A burial. Of course. They wanted to destroy the evidence, but evidence of
what?
And who’d had Gabriel murdered?

Sarah swallowed, sickened.

The floor began to slope upward, the ceiling shrinking until even Sarah had to duck her head to avoid the stones. They had no choice but to walk shoulder to shoulder as the passage narrowed, not that it mattered, since Sarah was already pressed against his side. But then the tunnel dead-ended abruptly. She was about to ask him where they should go next when Will released her hand to grip the thin rope dangling against the left wall. Then he reached up to shove open the overhead door, flooding the passage with light and blinding them both after their prolonged trip through the darkness.

Will was able to stretch himself to his full height through the opening, and he used the rope to soundlessly set the square of wood on the ground above. In the afternoon light, Sarah could see the trees overhead and the moss that had grown over the secret entrance.

Hoisting himself from the small opening, Will crouched on the ground, eyes shifting over their surroundings. Sarah held up her hands, and her feet dangled in the air as he pulled her out of the hole. She naturally landed in a crouch beside him, and he didn’t release her hand as he tensely examined the trees.

“We must be near the river,” he muttered to himself. 

“But where are they?” she panted quietly, still wary of the unseen presence lurking in the woods. The frigid air blew her hair back from her shoulders, instantly chilling her face and neck.

“Let’s find out.” Will helped her to her feet, though they both kept low as they moved slowly through the trees, where the closely tangled limbs caused the sun to be all but shrouded from view. It must have been midday, but she could tell from the placement of the shadows that dusk was not far off. So soon? Surely they would lose the two men in the dark.

Her eyes scanned the snow-capped trees and the bit of the horizon that she could make out along the ridges and hills. She narrowed her gaze, fixing it on a point above the next rise. “Is that smoke?”

Will looked just as baffled. He pointed out the toboggan-sized drag marks leading up the slope, and they stepped from the path they were following to move quietly up the incline, which was slow going—Sarah’s shoes kept losing traction on the slick, icy snow, and Will repeatedly paused to help her find her footing. Eventually, she found that it was easiest to plant her fingers in the snow and use the point of her feet to hoist herself up a foot at a time, which saved them precious seconds. 

As they reached the crest of the rise, Sarah saw that the smoke was extremely thick here, moving in their direction in gusts of choking heat. She tried not to wheeze and focused on taking shallow breaths.

A flash of color and muted voices drew her attention to the small clearing. The men had their backs to them not twenty feet away, and the body sack laid at their feet, now doused with a thick, greasy black film. A smoky bed of fire burned hotly a few feet away, the flames reaching high and sending out plumes of charcoal-colored smoke that stained the pristine snow a dull gray.

Will caught her attention and mouthed the word
there,
pointing to a large boulder a few feet to her left. She nodded, and they shuffled that way, planting themselves behind the rock for cover. He leaned out to watch the men, and Sarah scooted into the small space between the boulder and his chest, craning her neck to see.

“One, two,
three!
” Timmons cried. Together, the men tossed Gabriel’s inert form onto the pyre.

Sarah gasped in horror, but the sound was covered by the fire’s hungry crackling as it leapt over the body, quickly consuming the thin casing surrounding it. The flames reached high, dancing dangerously close to the limbs above when the final chords of the sack snapped. Gabriel’s gray features were visible for the brief instant that the fire subsided. Then it burst suddenly, finding new strength as it consumed his body, snapping wildly.

Unable to look away from the sickening scene playing out before her, Sarah could only watch with gaping eyes as Gabriel’s body disappeared from view, replaced by a shifting wall of orange and gold. She wouldn’t have been able to move at all if not for Will’s hands on her shoulders, gently but firmly pulling her back from the macabre sight. He folded her into his arm, leaning his side against the boulder for support. They would risk drawing attention to themselves if they ran, so the two were temporarily trapped.

Sarah closed her eyes so tightly that spots danced behind her lids, resembling the flames that presently consumed Gabriel’s corpse.

Her eyelids snapped open wide, and she clutched Will’s shirt to keep her hands from trembling. She had wished bad thoughts on the evil man for all that he had done to Will and to Karen, but did he deserve a second death as awful as
this
?

Will pressed his lips against the side of her head to keep from being heard. “Close your eyes; it will be over soon. Close your eyes,” he urged more insistently when her lids remained glued open in horror. Sarah tried to comply, forcing her eyes to close and burying her face in his shoulder when they refused.