Impulse (14 page)

After Robbie gave Lauren a tour of the greenhouses, the three of us had lunch in the city—baguettes stuffed with grilled vegetables and herbed fish fillets—and returned back to the castle that afternoon, both a little lighter on our feet. It had been so good to see Robbie so happy and animated in our company. He seemed to love having Lauren as an audience: while he was mostly serious around me, she seemed to bring out his fun side. I was getting to see another side of Robbie—and I liked it.

‘I'm stuffed. Might go have a nana nap,' Lauren said at her door.

I yawned. ‘Me too.' The truth, though, was that I wasn't tired in the slightest—I planned on speaking to Marko. The dreamy smile on her face stopped me for a moment.

‘So, what do you think of Robbie?'

Lauren grinned. ‘He is so hot. He felt my face to feel my smile. It was so romantic.'

‘Just don't hurt him. He doesn't need to be hurt.'

Lauren's face turned dark. ‘Why do you always assume the worst in me?' She folded her arms across her chest, emphasising her boobs. ‘You're my sister. Shouldn't you be boosting me up? Not bringing me down all the time?'

‘Sorry,' I said, before adding, with a grin, ‘you're a fantastic person. You have a great, generous heart. You're kind, loving, and beautiful—'

‘Oh, shut up.'

Marko's room was empty. According to his guard, he was out for another hour or so, which gave me the perfect opportunity to do something I'd wanted to do since I first found out about the secret sci-fi wall. I was going to touch it. If it opened, then I knew I truly loved Marko, Marin's true king. If not, then…well. I didn't want to go there yet.

It felt strange to be in Marko's room without him. Scary somehow, like being in a lion's den, with the lion out but likely to return home any minute. His scent filled the room, and when I passed his bed I had to resist the impulse to press my face into his pillows.

I stood before the blank wall, nerves shaking my sweaty hands as I raised them. What if it
did
open? I'd
have
to tell
Marko, so he'd know he could trust me absolutely, one hundred per cent. Then maybe he'd believe me when I told him of my concerns about Sylvia. Though I'd have to explain what I was doing in his room in the first place.

Sucking in a deep breath through my nose, I thrust my palms against the cool stone and waited.

Seconds passed. The wall remained cold beneath my touch.

Disappointment fell from my heart to my stomach, like a ball of lead.

But, just before I tore my hands away, the stone began to glow and heat my skin.

I gasped and drew my hands away just as it shot up into the ceiling and left an open, musty passage.

I took a second to breathe.

Marko would have to trust me now, seeing as Marin, the city, did.

Only five steps in, I felt a web stretch across my face. I flung my arms around crazily to make sure no spiders were on me, and then continued on.

As I made my way down the narrow, dark corridor, I passed the walled room with the window and wondered briefly who had done those drawings. For some reason, I guessed it had been a female. There was a kind of sad, feminine energy emanating from the room.

Continuing on, I paused at the narrow corridor leading to the dead-end where the blank wall supposedly led to the dungeons. Now that I had the city's trust, would this wall open for me? I started towards it. Maybe I'd catch Sylvia visiting Damir.

I pressed my palms against the stone and, within a few seconds, it warmed beneath my fingers and then shot up and opened to a small room. Across the room was a door
with a golden key dangling above it on a hook. After three jumps I managed to unhook the key, and, without even stopping to think about Marko's warning, unlocked the door.

The corridor was wide and clean, with no cobwebs dangling, indicating it was an area that was regularly used. Nothing was familiar about it, though, so I proceeded with caution as I walked, pocketing the golden key in my jeans.

Up ahead, around the bend, something rustled. Pressing my back against the wall, I cocked my head to listen, my breath trapped in my lungs.

‘Is someone there?' a soft female voice called.

‘Anne?' I whispered, coming away from the wall.

She stepped hesitantly out into the hallway and, as I moved closer, I saw her pale face stained with tears. Her cheeks were tinted pink and her lips were swollen, as if she'd been kissing someone for about five hours. Her dress was red, glamorous and tight, showing her small cleavage. It looked like something Sylvia would have hanging in her wardrobe, and nothing like what Anne would normally wear.

‘Are you all right?'

She nodded, but wouldn't meet my eyes. ‘I'm fine. I'd better be on my way.'

I gripped her thin arm. The feel of her jutting bones, sliding beneath her skin, made my stomach turn. ‘No. Wait. Where have you been just now?'

She stared at me then with defiance, her bloodshot blue eyes unblinking.

‘The dungeons.'

‘You served the prisoners in that dress?'

She continued to glare at me in a way that made me shuffle my feet.

‘So I'm just a serving girl who has no life at all? It would be impossible to imagine that I may have other reasons to visit the dungeons?'

‘Sorry. I just thought… I was worried. You've been crying.'

‘It's none of your business, Miranda.' When she said my name, her face softened and her chin trembled as though she was about to cry again.

‘You have a lover…a prisoner?' I shivered. ‘You deserve better, much better.'

‘I can and I
have
done better. You shouldn't think me so lowly. The man I'm in love with is wonderful. He's been wronged, that's all.'

‘What do you mean?' I didn't like where this was going. Goosebumps prickled my arms.

‘I'm not going to discuss my personal life with you, Miranda. You two-timed Robbie and Marko, so you can hardly talk,' she said, before darting off down the corridor.

‘What the hell? I didn't two-time anyone. I was kidnapped.' I stared after her, unsure what to say next. ‘Just take care, please,' I whispered in her wake, unsure if she'd heard.

I waited until Anne was out of sight and snuck around the bend, looking for the way to the dungeons. It was easy. I just followed the voices, which led me to the top of a staircase.

Wrapping my hands around the iron railing, I leant forward and listened. There were low voices, and the sounds of plates and glasses clinking, but it was all muted from that level.

Carefully, I stepped down three steps and strained to listen. It didn't help much, so I climbed down to the halfway mark and crouched down low. The top of a guard's head came into view, the black collar of his uniform just visible.

‘More wine!' somebody barked from below. The voice was hard, and mean. Just to hear it made my body shiver with disgust as I recalled the time Damir'd held me captive in his putrid-smelling underworld lair.

With my heart banging like a drum, I waited for the guard to react, to order Damir to shut up, or threaten him with a few jabs of his dagger. But, strangely enough, he moved out of view, and the sound of liquid being poured followed.

‘Nothing but the best, sir.'

I bit my lip to stop from gasping out loud.

Sir?

I waited. Perhaps the guard had given Damir bad wine. Prison guards were normally cruel like that. He was probably mocking his prisoner.

‘Shut up and turn around,' commanded Damir. ‘No, better yet, go get my sister. Tell her I'm ready.'

Wolf howls and laughter erupted.

The young guard said, ‘Yes, sir,' before his head disappeared.

Laughter erupted from down below. A piece of bread and a carrot went flying through the air.

Footsteps travelled up the stairs, towards me.

A
FTER A MOMENT
of paralysis, I leapt to my feet and up the stairs.

My breath came out in short, hard rasps as I raced around the bend, across the corridor, and then straight into the door. With shaking fingers, I inserted the key into the lock, but it fell to the ground, causing a loud ping.

‘Who's there?' the treasonous guard called out, his shadow growing as it approached the bend.

Snatching the key from the ground, I shoved it back in the lock, twisted it, and turned the handle before bolting through and slamming the door behind me.

The guard's footsteps quickened.

I waited for the pounding and the shouting but, for whatever reason, his footsteps stalled, retreated and then faded away altogether.

After hanging the key on the hook and catching my breath for a minute, I crossed to the other side and placed my palms against the wall and stepped back into the secret passageway, where I finally felt safe.

Sweat trickled down my back and my forehead was damp, so I wiped my arm across my face to clean myself up a bit as I rested my back against the wall.

Damir had said,
‘I'm ready.
'

Ready for…what exactly? Dessert? Escape? Murder?

Marko was going to hate hearing what I had to say; he might even hate
me
for it, but he had to know that Sylvia was meeting with Damir behind his back.

When I burst back into Marko's room, he was seated at the dining table, bent over a pile of documents before him. Instead of leaping to his feet and accusing me of trespassing or getting excited about me being able to open the door, he just raised his head and stared at me, his blue eyes wide.

The door whooshed shut behind me.

‘I can open your secret door,' I said, half smiling with nerves, as he stood.

‘I know.' He rubbed the back of his neck and laughed, and added, in a tired voice, ‘I don't know whether to shake you or kiss you.'

‘I think I'd much prefer the kiss,' I said, as I took hesitant steps towards him.

He just kept staring at me.

‘I'd half hoped you would be able to open it, but I also hoped you wouldn't.'

‘Why is that?'

He closed the distance between us, grabbed my hand, and tugged me into his arms. ‘Because now I have to worry that you'll one day open the door to the dungeons and get yourself killed.'

Confession time. I winced.

‘Um, don't get angry or anything, but I've already been.'

He shrugged me away from him. ‘What do you mean? Just now?'

I nodded. ‘And I overheard a conversation between Damir and one of your guards.' When he started to protest I raised a hand. ‘You need to hear this. You're in serious
danger, Marko. They're planning something—Sylvia and Damir.'

Marko stared at me, his eyes never leaving mine. ‘What exactly are they planning?'

For once he was listening. Maybe it was the door-of-trust theory of his father's.

‘Sylvia is communicating with Damir, and he is being treated like a king in the dungeons. I could only just see the guard, and he was running around getting wine for Damir and calling him
sir
!'

‘I don't starve my prisoners,' Marko said, but his voice was quieter and his eyes had changed from steel to a dark pool of unsettled waters.

‘No. Marko, this was different. The men in the dungeons were laughing at the guard,
your
guard.'

Marko cleared his throat. ‘Go on.' He moved his gaze to the floor. I felt bad for hurting him, but I had to spill it all out.

‘Then Damir asked the guard to send for Sylvia. They must be on speaking terms. He said to tell Sylvia that he was ready.'

Marko was silent for a long time, his breathing becoming more and more laboured and his cheeks flushing darker by the second.

‘Go to your room, Miranda.'

‘What?' My cheeks flushed with the humiliation of being spoken to like a child.

He rubbed his forehead and shook his head, his eyes soft and pleading.

‘I meant, please go to your room—for safety reasons.'

I backed away towards the door to my room.

‘So you're going to do something about it? You'll investigate Sylvia's involvement?'

He sighed, looking miserable, and nodded.

As I slowly closed the door between us, my heart nearly cracked to see Marko standing in the same position, staring at the ground, still in shock. And it suddenly occurred to me that, with this new knowledge about Sylvia's involvement with Damir, he was in more danger than ever.

‘Please, be careful, Marko.'

He didn't respond. He was too lost in the dark place that was his sister's betrayal.

B
ACK IN MY
room, I was too jumpy from nerves to sleep, so I paced the floor for hours, trying to exorcise the horrible visions of Marko getting hurt from my head, and wishing that he and Lauren were with me in my room, where I could reach out and touch them and know that they were safe. Finally, exhaustion knocked me for six and I fell asleep on the bed, fully clothed.