The Ghost Greyson, Maeve (reading an ebook .txt) 📖

Alexander’s voice sounded closer. “Call out again. We’ve come to the pit of five tunnels. We canna tell which one holds ye.”

The pit of five tunnels? That told Magnus exactly where they were within the maze. “Stay put!” he shouted. “I’ll come to ye.” The ledge surrounding the pit was a fickle thing, treacherously narrow and crumbling in spots. He knew Brenna. She wouldn’t see fit to stay put and let Alexander traverse the way. “Keep Brenna off that ledge.”

“Dinna talk about me as though I’m not here,” she scolded. “Are ye hurt? We were told ye fell prey to a sinkhole.”

“A mite banged up, my love,” he said, feeling better with every painful hop forward. “I’m finer than fine now that I’m but a moment away from having ye back in my arms.” He hitched along the path, hurrying into a swinging gait. Lights flickered up ahead. Three. Maybe more. He didn’t care how many as long as one of them belonged to Brenna.

Just as he reached where the tunnel opened into the cavernous concourse with the pit surrounded by the other passageways, the stone beneath his feet crumbled away.

“Magnus!” Brenna’s scream shattered the darkness.

His torch spun down into the darkness until it disappeared. Fingers clamped on a thin lip of stone. Body flattened against the rock face. He scrambled for a toe hold. Excruciating pain shot through his right leg as he hooked the toe of his boot onto a whisper of a ledge. Aches and pains could just be damned. He had not come this close to reuniting with his lady love to fail now. With his left boot toe wedged in a vertical crack, he couldn’t climb upward, but at least he couldn’t fall farther, either.

“He’s gone.” Brenna’s sobs filled the space. “My heart…my soul…he’s gone.” Her keening wail tore through the tunnels like a wraith rising from the grave.

“Brenna!” It was hard to shout without losing his hold. “Alexander! Over here!”

“He lives! I heard him just over there. Hurry!” shouted a voice he never expected to hear accompanying his wife and the man he considered a brother. ’Twas that wench, Cadha. What in the devil’s name was she doing with them?

“I am here!” he called out again, hopes rising as the darkness above him fell away to the soft flickering of torchlight.

“So you are,” drawled Commander Barricourt as he none too gently settled his boot on top of Magnus’s fingers. “Before you die, you should be commended, Master de Gray. I rarely take such a personal interest in the retrieval of escaped prisoners.” The boot pressed harder, slowly crushing his fingers and threatening his hold. Barricourt sniffed, then rumbled out a wicked chuckle. “Such a perfect outcome. Her Majesty and the entirety of England thank you for saving them the trouble and expense of imprisonment and hanging. Your tomb here is ready-made.”

“Bastards!” Alexander roared from across the way. “The conniving whoresons followed us, Magnus. Hang tight. I’ll kill them with my bare hands and have ye out of there in no time.”

“I very much doubt that,” Barricourt laughed. “While Cawldrake might appear useless, he is a fine shot.” The tip of his boot twisted as though the man turned. “The chief, shoot him now, Cawldrake.”

“Nay!” Raithwaite’s voice rang out loud and clear. “A shot in here could cause a cave-in for certain.”

“I see.” Cawldrake hissed out a frustrated huff. “Well, no matter. If the chief moves while I’m toying with this fool, shoot him. I am willing to risk it.”

“Leave my husband alone!” Brenna screamed from the other side of the fissure. Magnus wished he could turn and see his precious dear one, but he didn’t dare. He would lose his hold for certain.

The boot ground harder atop the fingers of his left hand, twisting with more pressure. “Madam,” Barricourt rudely snorted, “and I do use that term with as much disrespect as possible, my little whore. Your husband has been found wanting and is set to descend into his grave forthwith. Any last words for him to take with him?”

“If she doesna have anything to say, I do!” screeched Cadha.

Barricourt exploded with a shrieking cry as he tumbled over Magnus, then disappeared down into the darkness. His screams grew faint, then went silent.

“Commander!” Cawldrake shouted. “Commander!”

Only silence answered.

Magnus struggled to improve his hold, his crushed fingers numb. He had to get up on that ledge. Fast.

“You have killed the commander and made me look the fool!” Cawldrake roared.

“Aye, I killed the man, but ye didna need my help to look the fool.” Cadha laughed. “Ye had that task well in hand all by yerself.”

Pulling himself up as much as his waning strength allowed, Magnus peeped over the ledge. Wee Cadha faced off Second Lieutenant Cawldrake, as though ready to battle the man. How had the slip of a girl made it past him to shove the commander over the edge?

“I shall snap your neck with my own hands!” the lieutenant shouted, tossing his pistol aside.

Cadha crouched a bit, swaying from side to side like an adder about to strike. “Come at me, if ye dare.”

“Dinna ye touch her!” Brenna warned. “Cadha, lay on the floor and hug the wall, Alexander’s coming!”

“Raithwaite, you will stop that man whilst I deal with this bit of rubbish,” Cawldrake ordered as he dove for the girl.

Raithwaite jumped for the lieutenant just as the officer caught hold of Cadha. “Leave her be, sir! Leave go of her, I say!”

“Never!” Cawldrake roared.

“Then die with me!” Cadha cackled, lunging backward. She wrapped her arms around his neck while at the same time kicking off the wall and swinging the two of them toward the abyss. Her valiant efforts were rewarded. Cawldrake lost his balance and fell with her into the gaping maw of the pit.

“God bless her and keep her,” Raithwaite whispered as he knelt on the edge and stared down into the darkness.

“A little help, Sassenach?” Magnus grunted, his tenuous grip about to fail. As much as his heart ached