Chapter 11

The girl stood by the fire, holding her freezing hands out to the blaze, standing as close as possible to the dancing heat in an attempt to warm herself. A fresh blast of icy rain had drenched her when she spent a second too long staring fearfully at the frightening images carved into the huge castle doors. The lightning only made it worse, and she had hesitated just long enough to get thoroughly soaked again before the doors had came open and the gale had literally thrown her inside.

The room she was in was huge and sparsely lit, allowing the darkness to slip in and out of the light like a wraith, making creatures of the furniture that she did not dare to look at too long, for fear her imagination would overrun her thinking.

There was a torch by the door and three more scattered about the room, plus the fireplace. The lamps threw just enough light out to show her that there was a very large staircase behind her, leading to a balcony-like floor above, with probably many rooms and halls. There was also a door to her left on the opposite side of the room of the staircase, but she could make out little else. The only torches she could see were the ones in the room with her.

She had felt the prickling sensation of being watched the instant she had came through the door. The servant or whoever it was that had signaled to her with the lantern to come in was nowhere to be found, and the absence of people did nothing to help her nerves. She knew they were there, although how many she couldn't tell, but there was definitely more than one. She didn't understand why they didn't show themselves. Surely they didn't think she, of all people, was a threat. She had whispered a thank you through chattering teeth to them when she had approached the fireplace, but she had received no reply.

The fire crackled, making her jump slightly. Although she could hardly see anything in the half-light, her ears were mercifully back in perfect working condition, from what she could tell, and the only thing she could hear was the fire snapping softly to itself. She let out a soft breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and crept an inch or two closer to the fire, shivering. She prayed she wouldn't catch her death of cold, standing here in soaked clothes. She longed for dry ones but did not dare to speak it out loud. They had provided the best place possible for her mount to spend the night, and she could see he would want for nothing tonight. He was probably finishing the oats and diving straight into the hay right now. She smiled at the thought of him getting a well-deserved rest.

There was a couch a few feet behind her that she could have sworn beckoned to her when she passed it, but her mother had taught her never to sit on furniture when you were dirty or wet. It was rude, and she didn't wish to anger whoever lived here or show ingratitude.

The feeling was finally back in her hands, and she sighed softly as she wiggled her fingers in the warmth. Since she had left her horse, and even with being stared at by people that hid from her, she finally felt a little more relaxed. The warmth no doubt had something to do with it.

She was so tired. . .she had had a very hard day, an even harder night, and it didn't look like it was getting much better. The heat was putting her to sleep, but her soaked clothes were just cold enough to keep her awake in a sort of stupor, unintentionally blocking out everything but the immediate.

At the same time she knew she had to keep her guard up, especially in a strange place that was obviously lived in but seemingly deserted, but the more she strained against the chain of cold that twined around her body the tighter it got, making her inch closer to the blaze for comfort, only to have it lull her deeper into a sort of trance, as she watched the dancing flames blankly.

If she had not been so exhausted, so drained, she no doubt would have heard the slight noises coming from the top of the staircase. She would have heard the sharp wheeze of someone doing their best to keep bodily reflexes at bay, the faint sound of metal grinding softly against the stone floor, but she did not.

In the far distance of her consciousness, she thought she heard something, but her mind was having trouble sending signals.

It sounded like china dishes.

'Is someone heading to the kitchen?' She thought hazily. 'I wonder if they have hot tea here. Mother always makes hot tea when we get caught in the rain. She doesn't have china though. Only the rich people have that.'

Her panicked senses woke her mind up, shaking her awake as hard as they could. In the eighth of a second it took for her to completely realize there was a very loud noise coming from behind her and whip around in terror, nearly falling into the fire, the nightmare from above had already been unleashed.

She stared in shock and fear as a massive hunk of gleaming metal came barreling down the steps, glinting madly in the firelight. All manner of silverware spilled down the steps after it, as it unceremoniously kicked off dishes right and left, smashing them against the stone in a grand, bright display.

And it was getting faster.

And faster.

And FASTER!

It crashed down the steps like a bull elephant through an antique shop and hit the floor like an eagle in flight.

Until the front wheels of the monstrosity hit the edge of the large rug that covered the floor from the fireplace to halfway across the huge room.

It executed a perfect flip in midair, startling for something of its size and bulk, the momentum it had gained all the way down the staircase refusing to let it surrender immediately. With an almost brutish grace it flipped end over end across the floor, the metal groaning.

The girl fled from the fireplace in a panic as the monstrosity slammed into the right side of the hearth, back end up. It stayed there for what seemed like an eternity before, with a final, conquered groan, fell over on its side in the floor, the wheels humming like a nest of angry hornets.

The silence that resumed after the fracas was nearly deafening. The wary ease the girl had managed to work herself into was completely gone and she stared with huge eyes at the gleaming hunk of metal, the firelight reflecting eerily off it. Now that it had stopped moving she could see it was some sort of serving tray on wheels.

Or at least, that was what it had been.

She strained her eyes toward the staircase and balcony above it, searching for any sign of movement, any noise, anything. It was the same as before. Nothing. It was like there was no one there.

She stood there in the shadows for some time, till she started shivering hard again and was forced to creep back to the fire, in painfully plain view of anyone or anything that might be watching her still. She hated being in such a position. She wished more than ever that she had headed back to Dalben's instead of trying to get home before the storm hit. It was still crashing outside, worse than before.

'If Mitternacht hadn't spooked at that lightning we wouldn't be here,' she thought a bit irritably. 'But its more of my fault than his. I should've used my common sense instead of trying to race the storm home, but noooooo. . . .I had to be heroic. . .and now I'm stuck in the middle of who-knows-where in a creepy castle in the dead of night, in the middle of the worst storm Prydain has had in years, and for all I know its owned by trolls and ogres who's guests never come out again. When I get home Mother's going to kill me.'

She stood with her back to the fire, watching the staircase now. Her insides were shaking violently, and it wasn't all from the cold. Her exhaustion and the warmth was lulling her again, and her hunger and freezing, soaked clothes made it so hard to think. . .her body and mind cried for rest, but she would not give in. Who knew how many more trolleys would come down those stairs again tonight, or something worse. She couldn't fall asleep.

Her legs wobbled violently, warning her she couldn't stand up much longer, but she gritted her teeth and stiffened her joints, flinching as tendrils of pain shot up her legs from the stomping her feet had received earlier.

Groggily she reached a hand up to her throbbing head to gingerly touch the place above her right eye where her horse's skull had hit her when she came off earlier. Wincing, she pulled her fingers back to see a thin film of red staining them.

Her eyes widened.