Blue Ridge: Vol. 3 - Escape

by Sophia Gray

  Garth and Nadia let out their held breath. Garth looked at her warily in the dim light. “How did you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “He didn’t see us. It was as if we were just part of the stone wall.”

  Nadia grinned and took a shaky breath. “I know! It was some kind of miracle!”

  “No, not a miracle, you used Glamour.”

  *****

  The light was failing and Foster was becoming agitated by the way the blue light of the pixie was to leading them. He tried to stop it but was only given a shake of its tiny head in response.

  “This isn’t good.” Warren whispered beside him. “We are going to end up near the front of the castle.

  “I told you not to follow it! It’s a trap!” Stefan’s angry voice said just behind them.

  The pixie darted ahead of them and stopped just below a sharp rise. The three watched her as she hovered in front of their noses and imitated lying flat on her stomach. Foster nodded and they cautiously went up the rise and lying flat once they were at the top. They could see the inner courtyard from under a thick row of rose bushes. The courtyard was full of people. Foster could see Fae and Sidhe mingling in their respected groups. He also saw several members of the Nephilim standing off to one side. He watched as the guards motioned another group in from the gate. He squinted and sucked in breath watching as his family walked into the courtyard. His mother walked with a straight back and he could see the pensive look on her face. His father was beside her with a stern expression, his hand lightly touching her lower back. Dain followed with a scowl, but the most surprising part of it was the older couple that was in the barn from the night before. They walked with his family as if they belonged. Some of the Fae and Sidhe bowed as the older couple passed.

  Warren tugged on Foster’s arm and pointed to the pixie. It was trying to get them to follow to a small area of the castle where the building began to meet with the actual rock of the mountain.

  Stefan came close to Foster’s ear. “Be aware of the sky. I have heard that she has a Griffon or two at her command.” Foster nodded and they moved silently to the place where the pixie was hovering. There was some kind of bush with thick thorns, and she kept darting in and out of the bush. Foster cautiously pushed a branch of the bush back and hissed through his teeth as thorns ripped at his flesh. He could see a small door big enough to crawl through. The others peered over his shoulder.

  “How will we get in without being torn to pieces?” Warren whispered.

  “Like this.” Stefan said, and pushed several branched down at once breaking them with a snap.

  Warren and Foster winced from the sound and they flattened themselves to the ground and tried to see the courtyard. A nearby guard had heard the sound and was looking their way. He scanned the rose bushes and trees, then shrugged and turned back to the crowd, watching as they began to enter the castle.

  Foster breathed a sigh of relief. He touched Warren and pointed towards the courtyard. Warren nodded and stayed where he was. Foster crawled back to Stefan and tried to look at the door. It was old and from the look of the decay, forgotten. He pushed on the base of it and felt it give a little. Stefan reached through the braches at top and smacked the door one time; causing it to swing inward. Both looked back at Warren. He scanned the yard once more and gave them a thumb up before crawling back to them.

  “Everyone has gone inside. Just a few guards remain.” He whispered.

  It was complete darkness as Foster peered inside the doorway. He took a deep breath and began crawling through. It was slow work. He could feel thorns grabbing and tearing at his clothes and there wasn’t much room to move. Once inside he crouched and moved a few feet away to make room for the next person. Stefan threw a pack of matches through the doorway and Foster felt around on the floor until he found them. He pulled one out and lit it. He could see he was in some kind of small hallway. It was only wide enough for two people to lie side by side, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stand. Crouching or crawling was going to be the only options.

  Foster shook his hand as the flame from the match touched his fingertips. He moved further up the hallway as Warren and then Stefan entered. Stefan did the smart thing and Warren could hear him quietly shut the door. He moved a few more feet and lit another match as he began to move forward. The hallway ended another twenty feet and they could make out a faint light coming from a slit in the floor. Stefan took the matches and lit one handing it to Warren. He lit another and they held them forward to try and help Foster to see. Foster ran his hand from the slit upward and felt along the edges of something. He waited patiently for more matches to be lit, and continued inspecting the area with his hands.

  “It’s an old panel.” He whispered. “It’s made to look like the wall, but it can be moved.” He laid his ear to it and listened. He could barely discern noise, and it sounded far away. What he could hear reminded him of kitchen noises. He took his fingertips and felt for the edges of the panel. He pulled backwards once around the edges, and it gave way swinging inward. Foster flattened his body to the floor and inched forward until he could see just through the opening. The panel opened near the top of a hallway. The drop to the floor below was at least eight feet. The hallway was not well lit and looked dusty. He hoped the dust indicated it was an unused place. Foster turned around and let his feet and legs go out of the opening first. Once his torso was part way out, he inched the rest of his body out and fell to the ground, landing in a crouch. He was facing the wall and spun around quickly looking and listening for the sound of anyone coming. When he didn’t hear anything he motioned for the others to follow.

  “I don’t think anyone has been here for a while.” Warren said looking around.

  “No.” Foster said and stood for a minute trying to decide which way to go. He chose the way that would take them further into the castle. They walked silently through the passage toward the better-lit passage that intersected at the end. The hallway in front of them looked a little more used. It was better lit and there wasn’t the accumulation of dust on the floor. A rat scurried from up the stairs on the left and ran past them.

  “If there is a dungeon, it will be lower.” Stefan whispered.

  They approached the winding stone staircase and listened at the top. Foster was sure there was voices echoing at the bottom but he couldn’t be certain. They started down, hugging the wall as they went. When they reached the bottom, two guards met them with surprised faces. Stefan silenced them before they could react by banging their heads together and letting their limp bodies fall to the floor. He stepped over them casually and checked the cells. He paused at one and motioned for the others. They looked at the dead guard. He had been stripped of his weapons, but for some reason his body was still there. Blood was drying on his face and had dried on his ears and around his eyes and nose. A look of horror was frozen on his face.

  “Why would they just leave his body but take his weapons?” Warren asked.

  “My guess is that they haven’t removed the body because they don’t know it’s here yet, or they are in pursuit of the one who took the weapons. This man died from a bursting of the brain. I only know of two Nephilim that are capable of this.”

  Foster felt a surge of hope rise in his chest; maybe someone was helping Nadia.

  Stefan eyed him sharply. “Don’t get your hopes up, boy. Garth is one of the more powerful of my kind, but I doubt he would help her if he was the one who brought her here.”

  Foster nodded. They went back up the stairs as cautiously as they went down. Once back in the hallway they went in the opposite direction and found that noises were getting louder. They were definitely near the kitchens. Before any of them could react, a plump woman with red hair came out of a room on the side, carrying a huge mixing bowl. She looked at them in surprise.

  “What are ye doing down here?”

  Foster thought quickly and gave her a sly smile. “We’re lost.” he said with a shrug. He gave her his most dazzl
ing smile and used glamour to appear clean and well kept. It worked. She smiled bashfully. “Can you point us in the right direction, Madam?” he said, and bowed with a flourish.

  She giggled and pointed down the hall. “Left at the end, and up the stairs with ye.”

  He took one of her hands and kissed it as she shifted the bowl and hugged it close. “You have saved us!”

  She giggled again and disappeared through another door. They went in the direction she had indicated in case she came back through and found them trying other doors instead. They walked as quickly as they could in case someone else came on them unexpected. There were two other doors on the hallway besides the two the cook had just exited and entered. One was locked and the other opened directly onto a narrow staircase.

  “This place is nothing more than hallways and staircases!” Stefan grumbled. They took the stairs cautiously, and once at the top they could hear voices talking somewhere below them. The space opened into a small stone expanse of about ten feet by six feet. The stone was cut across with an opening that was just wide enough to look through. Stefan made the motion of nocking an arrow and letting it go. Foster nodded that he understood. It was a place for soldiers to guard the Queen. Foster looked down into the cavernous room below them and saw that it was in fact the throne room.

  “Why aren’t there soldiers here now?” Foster whispered.

  Stefan shrugged and knelt before the opening scanning the room below. He dropped back and said, “I think they’re all down there. Maybe she uses this for assassination purposes.” He looked across to the other side. “I don’t think there’s another one over there.” He said indicating the other side. Foster looked and saw that the multi colored glass ceiling only covered part way and the rest was stone. He realized the side they were on was either part of the mountain or built into it, but the opposite side was hewn stone; built like any other castle; yet it looked almost identical to the side they were on. He could see the Queen’s throne was empty, and her guests gave it a quick glance as they began to take their seats. There was at least two hundred there, and he was unable to see his family.

  Warren had crept forward and was crouching beside him. “What should we do?”

  Foster was about to answer when movement directly opposite from them caught his eye. “Stefan,” he whispered, “I think there is another one of these rooms over there.”

  Stefan squinted and concentrated. “Yes! I do see it!” He looked below to see if any of the guests or guards were looking upwards, but they all seemed intent on staring at the empty throne or whispering behind their hands to each other. “Did you see something over there?”

  “I thought I saw movement.”

  They waited several moments and listened to the hum below them. A horn sounded and a loud voice yelled, “Queen Lily Armstrong, leader of the Eastern Realm of America!” The three watched as the Queen entered from behind the throne. She was dressed in an elaborate gown of rose colored silk, inlaid with brightly colored stones in the bodice that caught the light and made her glitter. She was exquisitely beautiful, and Foster knew instinctually she was as equally malevolent.

  “What a pompous ass that woman is.” Stefan muttered.

  Another chandelier was lit and raised by ropes, securing it above the queen’s head. The extra light caused a perpetual platform for her to look glittery and beautiful. It also caused a feeling of magic. One thing the extra light did was better illuminate the rooms on either side of the ceiling.

  All three of them lowered their heads so that just their eyes and foreheads were in sight. Foster stared at the hidden room opposite and tried to see more movement. He was about to resign himself to it all being a trick of the eye, when he saw it again.

  His mouth went dry and his stomach felt like he was falling. Another flicker of movement and Nadia’s face flashed back into view. She saw him the same time that the Queen called her court into order. Foster froze as his mind raced at the sight.

  “Things just got a whole lot more interesting…” Foster said to himself.

  ~ Volume Three: Escape ~

  Nadia could barely make out Foster’s pale face from across the vast chamber, but she knew without a doubt it was him. She shot a quick glance down to the Queen’s throne, and saw that she and all the attendees were focused on each other. Garth was watching the Queen too with murder in his eyes. Nadia yanked at his shirtsleeve and pulled him down out of sight.

  “Across the room is a place like this one! Foster and two others are in there!” she whispered excitedly.

  Garth eased his head up and scanned the opposite wall. When he brought his head back down to her, he smiled. “Aye, and Stefan Anak is one of them.”

  “Is he related to Foster?”

  “He’s an uncle and a strong Nephilim. There is hope, young Nadia.” He said quietly and patted her head. “We will need to figure a way to get to them, but first I will hear what the Queen has to say.”

  Nadia thought that was the worst idea ever, but said nothing. Deep down she wanted to know what was happening as well. Garth had told her she had used something called Glamour, but refused to elaborate on it beyond telling her that only ancient races could use it. He had said a human certainly wouldn’t know how. It all seemed ridiculous, but for now she had no one else to ask.

  “Welcome to the autumn meeting of my court.” The Queen said sharply. “I assume we can all behave like the regal races that we are and I assume the Nephilim can at least pretend regality for one evening.”

  Nadia felt Garth bristle beside her. She dared a look across to Foster and offered him a weak smile. She could see the look of anger, even from the long distance.

  “Now, there are nasty rumors of a possible coup. There are even nastier rumors of my not being on the throne in a legitimate manner.” Her eyes scanned the room and she didn’t attempt to disguise the malice practically dripping from them. “Who shall speak first?”

  All eyes remained on her but no one spoke. Tension was thick in the room.

  “Very well.” She said casually. “I shall move on to the more important matter at hand. Tonight I shall present to you my son, and heir to the throne.”

  The room erupted in violent whispers that sounded like too many snakes having a discussion. From the snatches of conversation that could be heard, apparently a few didn’t even know she had a son. One member of the Fae stood and shouted, “Lily, we have never handed the throne over based on blood! All members of the Realm are allowed a vote when the throne becomes vacant!

  “Sit down, Thomas.” She replied, standing. “We will have none of your idiotic banter tonight.”

  The Queen snapped her fingers and the same one to announce her arrival announced her son’s in a loud voice. A young man of about Fosters age stepped onto the platform. The same golden hair of his mother hung to his shoulders. His skin was so pale that it looked translucent and his manner was as cold as hers, as he waited for his own throne to be set beside his mother’s. He looked on the people with contempt. An equally elegant chair with embroidered designs and a high back was set beside the Queen’s throne, and he sat down with a casual air, as if he had always been before the people as their leader.

  Queen Lily took her seat again, and focused her attention on Foster’s family. “Anaks, why are you here? You are no longer members of the court. Kheelan, you and your wife were not invited either, so please indulge me with the reasons why you are here.”

  Foster and Warren sucked in breath at the same time as they watched their mother and father walk towards the throne. Julia gave the Queen a barely discernible curtsey and Derrick simply nodded his head. The Queen twisted her mouth, but said nothing to Derrick for the insult.

  “Queen, Lily,” Julia began, “we have come because we believe our younger sons, Foster and Warren, are within the Realm.”

  She gave them a faint smile. “My goodness, your household is run like that of the heathens. Are there no rules? Isn’t Foster recently involved with a human?”
/>   “Yes, and that human was taken from the human world.”

  “Kidnapped?”

  “Yes. Foster may have thought she was brought here.”

  The Queen and her son stared at them with amused eyes. They exchanged a look and suffocated laughter with the backs of their hands. To Foster they looked like puppets imitating each other. “Well, she isn’t here.”

  Derrick spoke with a calm voice. “Do you mean she isn’t within the Realm, or she isn’t here in the castle?”

  Lily rolled her eyes. “Derrick, how would I be able to know every inch of the Realm?”

  “Perhaps, one of your spies would know.”

  She laughed out loud. “Really, Derrick, you act like I run this place like a dictator. There are rules, and as you both know, sometimes those rules are broken, but I can’t be responsible for every mixed breed that wanders into the Realm before their twenty-one.” She paused and eyed them steadily. “So, once again, why are you here?”