The Castle: Prequel to the Guardian Angel Series

by Melissa Johnson

  Chapter 8

  Heather didn’t have a plan. It wasn’t until she was back in the Castle that she started to realize the enormity of what she was doing. She felt like a ghost wandering the corridors, only she didn’t have the advantage of invisibility. She realized she was in the vicinity of the Tower Lab and peeked inside the doorway, surprised to find the room empty.

  She stepped inside. Perhaps this would be as good a place as any to wait and hope for the arrival of a friendly face to help her.

  Her work station looked eerily unchanged from when she’d seen it last, well over four years before. A headset lay on the chair, as if flung casually aside, waiting for her to pick it up and get back to work. It couldn’t be hers, but she picked it up and felt a rush a memories. Before she could notice anything more, she heard voices approaching and looked frantically around for a hiding place. She slipped inside a large wall cabinet.

  Her wish seemed to be doubly granted when both Seymour Fenton and Marigold walked into the room. Relieved, she started to push the cabinet door open. Almost a second too late she saw that Seymour and Marigold was not the only one coming into the room. Thaddeus! Heather covered her gasp and backed into the shadows, pulling her full skirt out of sight. Through the wire mesh inset of the cabinet door, she saw Marigold glance sharply in her direction.

  Holding onto Thaddeus’ hand was Ariana. She hopped up and down beside him, her bare feet peeking out from beneath her nightgown. “Is this the magic place?”

  “Indeed it is!”

  Heather covered her mouth to keep from calling out. She watched from a gap in the panel, both relieved and confused at how unafraid Ariana seemed. But Thaddeus was being far from frightening.

  “Watch this, niece!” With a dramatic wave of his hand all of the image enhancers flickered to life.

  “Oh!” Impressed, Ariana let go of Thaddeus’ hand and rushed to the monitors, touching the screens.

  Thaddeus chuckled. The sound made Heather cringe.

  She saw the same reaction from Marigold. Oh, how she’d missed her! She looked different. Older, more subdued. Gone was the flashy hooker garb, replaced instead with a conservative blouse buttoned to her throat, a knee-length skirt, and sensible flat shoes. Everything about her looked muted, except for the brilliant orange of her hair. But she was still here, which was more than she’d expected.

  Seymour looked the same as he always had. Worried. He wrung his hands. At any moment he would say…

  “What to do, what to do, what to --”

  Marigold jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow.

  But Thaddeus had heard him. While Ariana was distracted by the pictures on the monitors, he turned and addressed Seymour. “Do you have something to say, Fenton?”

  Seymour ran his finger under his collar. “What? No…nothing.”

  Thaddeus walked over to stand with Ariana at the far side of the room, his hand on her shoulder as he pointed out scenes of interest.

  Heather couldn’t hear them, but she could hear Seymour and Marigold, who stood much closer to her hiding place. She strained to hear their whispers.

  Seymour spoke first. “That is…that child is…”

  “Heather’s child,” finished Marigold. “I know.”

  “What to--”

  “Stop it!” Marigold practically hissed. “There is nothing ‘to do.’ We can’t get the child back to her. Even if we did, he would take her back. Heather would have to run forever.”

  Heather heard Seymour draw in his breath, which hopefully covered her own gasp.

  “You know where she is, don’t you,” he said.

  “I do.”

  For a second, Heather thought Marigold meant she knew where she was right now.

  “But I won’t tell you. It’s best if you don’t know.”

  “I understand,” Seymour said softly. “It is a horrible predicament.”

  More than he knew. If she brought Ariana back home to Robert, Thaddeus would know she had a locket. Marigold was right. He would come after them. None of them would be safe. There was no where they could hide.

  But there was Dragon’s Keep. If she brought Ariana to Eric, then what? Eric. She trembled at the thought of facing him. She’d promised him she’d return. Since she’d left, everything had changed, and yet, nothing had changed.

  Even if she never returned, would Robert and Harry be safe? Heather pressed her hand against the wire mesh. Mari, help me.

  Marigold side-stepped closer until she stood with her back to the cabinet. Her body blocked Heather’s view of Thaddeus and Ariana, but she also blocked his view if he happened to glance their way.

  “If Heather were here, in this very room, I would give her one chance. She knows there is only one thing she could do to end this for all of us.”

  Heather shuddered. Finish the spell.

  “I don’t think she can,” Seymour said sadly.

  “If she can’t do that, than she must leave it alone.” She cleared her throat. “Because if I saw even a hint of her again, I would go to Thaddeus.”

  Marigold was warning her.

  Seymour sighed. “I remember a time when all of us were the best of friends.”

  Heather’s throat felt tight. Yes, they had been the best of friends.

  “We were.” Marigold echoed her thoughts. “But things are different now, you know that, Seymour. I cannot risk being on Thaddeus’ bad side. As hard as it would be, she must choose.”

  Choose one child over the other? Her heart broke, splitting in two. No matter what she did, half of her would be left behind. Ariana. Baby Harry. An impossible choice.

  Cast the spell. Could she? It had been so long. Her entire body trembled at the thought of the repercussions if she failed. She couldn’t take the risk.

  She must go. Heather leaned her head against the panel. Her entire life seemed to be filled with days of having to leave the ones she loved. She willed Marigold to move to the side, just a step, so she didn’t block her view. But she did not. Heather bit her lip, tasting blood. If she left now, could she have the hope of coming back? Maybe the locket would work again. She hadn’t even brought Lucy. Why hadn’t she brought Ariana’s doll?

  But she must go. In the years to come, would Ariana ever forgive her?