Read Fierce Winds and Fiery Dragons (Dusky Hollows: Book 1) Page 12


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  The cage was made of smooth wood and she couldn't stand completely straight inside. A parade of beasts wandered by, a few young ones pointed and grunting as if she were in some kind of zoo. Carrie's head hurt and her knee ached. Her hands were untied so she rubbed the aching part. The bruise was big enough to feel lumpy.

  A platter of grass and bowl of water waited in the corner of the cage, and Carrie realized that it was meant to be her food. Her throat felt parched. Stiffly, she half-stood with her head brushing the smooth wooden roof. She limped to the bowls. Cries and squeals arose from the beasts outside and a few furry fingers were pointed in her direction as she knelt by the water.

  She lifted the bowl and smelled the water. It didn't smell like swamps or creek water. It actually smelled really good, like clean filtered water. Still, she wasn't thirsty enough yet to drink when she didn't know where it came from. They probably filled it up straight out of a river, and who knows what creatures lived in the water.

  Her lips felt so dry. She carefully set the bowl back on the floor. She went to the edge of the cage, watching the room for anyone who might understand her or in some way be helpful. There was no one who would help.

  She curled up on the floor. With the dozens of beasts outside the cage, even if she tried to find a way out now, they would just find a new cage for her. She decided to be quiet and think, pretending to be asleep. Closing her eyes, Carrie took inventory. She had no tools, no shoes. The cage was wooden and might be breakable if she had something strong, which she didn't.

  Sparky had disappeared. The dragon may or may not know where she was. Whatever happened to Sparky, she had felt the little dragon's dismay when everything happened. It wasn't fear exactly, but then it seemed that dragons probably didn't feel fear that much. Something grabbed Sparky, too. So she couldn't count on rescue.

  Carrie opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling of her cage. She didn't want to be one of those kids in the newspapers. Everyone would think she ran away because her parents were getting divorced. They wouldn't know she was trapped in a strange place with strange hairy people holding her captive.

  She had to find a way to escape. The cage should have some kind of door. When she was at the zoo, the elephant keeper said that their elephants didn't like humans. They had to use a series of gates so that the elephants could be cared for without ever having human contact. Otherwise, the elephants might hurt their caretakers. Carrie thought about her actions. If she didn't plan carefully, they might put her in a cage like the elephants, a place where she would never find escape.

  The crowds dwindled and the lights were dimmed. Eventually Carrie found herself alone in the room. She started in the corner of the cage. Grasping the wooden bar at the corner, she twisted and pushed. The cage was solid. She walked slowly around the edge, testing each bar. When she reached the door, she pushed it forward, her attention on the outer latch. It was a simple hook, the kind her neighbor used in his dog kennel.

  She pushed her hand through the bar, her fingers just brushing the edge of the latch. The hook was just out of reach. Carrie decided to keep exploring the cage and come back to the latch. She finished her walk, testing everything until she arrived back at the first corner. The food dish caught her eye. Picking up the saucer, Carrie dumped the grass on the floor, then maneuvered it between the bars.

  She hooked the latch on the edge and lifted. Halfway up it slipped. This happened again and again until she was gritting her teeth in frustration. With a quick shove she hefted the saucer up, catching the hook and thrusting it out of the latch until it fell with a clang.

  Carrie moved away from the door, scanning the entryways for signs that someone had heard the sound. When no one appeared, she pushed the door open. At least their cages had all the sophistication of a dog house. Anything more secure and she might not have escaped.

  I'm not out of here yet. Carrie reminded herself. She had never been good at tiptoeing, but she gave it her best, moving slowly and quietly into the hall and carefully waiting as she passed openings in the hallway.

  She heard footsteps coming from around the corner. Seeing an empty alcove, she slipped inside. She hurried as quietly as she could down the narrow hall and quickly ran up the winding staircase. The steps were made of stone and wound in a great circle. Carrie couldn't see beyond the first few steps and decided to keep going. Her logical voice kept telling her to go back. No way would a staircase going up lead to an escape. She'd be better off turning around. But the more she climbed, the more she wanted to see the top.

  The stair ended at a large oak door with iron locks and a chain wrapped around the handle. A key hung on a hook next to the door. Carrie took the key and pushed it into the lock. She tried to turn it, but the key stuck. Jamming it in, Carrie jiggled the key back and forth. She growled at it the way her dad did when he was working under the hood of his car trying to unfasten a difficult bolt.

  The lock seemed to screech when it gave way and Carrie froze, listening for the shouts or footsteps running up the stairs to get her. No one heard. With a sigh of relief, Carrie pulled the iron catch down and removed the lock and then the chains.

  Opening the door was as difficult as unlocking it. The door was much too heavy for Carrie. She had to put all of her weight into pushing it to make it open. One more grunt with a lot of energy and the door gave way with a lurch. She stumbled into an elegant room.

  “Oh!” A girl about the age of Carrie's baby sitter was at a vanity mirror picking through jewelry. Carrie's stomach did a flip-flop when she realized the woman's skin was so translucent that she could see her bones and the eye sockets behind her eyes. The whole effect made her feel queasy.

  “Um...sorry about that.” Carrie said uneasily, “I guess I'll just be going now.”

  “But you rescued me. Surely you won't leave me here alone?”

  “Rescued? But the room is so pretty.” And it was. A deep blue carpet, thick and lush, gave the room a peaceful feeling. A four post bed with blue and gold curtains sat in one corner of the room while the elegant mirror sat in another.

  “So you're just another bored maiden out for a jaunt, hoping that the prisoner will entertain you. Well, I'll just have you know that I won't do it. No dancing. No singing. And no stories.” She threw her brush onto the table and scowled. Her cheeks were an angry pink strangely overshadowed by the skeletal features beneath the skin.

  Carrie looked over her shoulder, hoping the girl's voice didn't carry. “Shh...I'm a prisoner, too. I just escaped and I'm looking for a way out of the castle.”

  “Well, I'd say you went the wrong way.”

  For a moment, Carrie felt very much like storming out of the room, locking the door again and leaving the girl to her fate. After all, she had been snotty, and Carrie was only trying to help. But Carrie couldn't imagine being locked up all the time, even in a pretty room with no friends to visit and no toys to play with.

  “I just wanted to see where the stairs led. I'm going to escape now. Would you like to join me?”

  Lifting herself from the chair and picking up her frilly skirts so they wouldn't drag across the ground, the young woman said, “Fine.”

  “What's your name?” Carrie asked.

  “One doesn't address a princess unless first spoken to. And my name is Minerva.” Daintily tiptoeing to the door, Minerva looked back, “Well, aren't you coming?”

  Carrie wanted to laugh when Minerva fell back after a short tug at the door. But she didn't. Instead she said, “It's a heavy door. Maybe if we both pull on it.”

  The princess sniffed, “Of course.”

  Carrie followed her out the door and down the stairs, not saying a word. Not because the princess had some stupid rule about speaking, but because she didn't want to be caught. Minerva seemed to know quite well where she was going. At the bottom of the tower, she pushed on a stone that looked like a perfect part of the wall. A passageway opened on the wall, this time with stairs l
eading down.

  Carrie looked into the dark stairwell. “What's this?”

  “The way out. Are you coming?” Minerva's voice was silky smooth and she seemed to glide across the floor, so upright and stiffly did she walk. Carrie felt like a stork beside her.

  “Right behind you.”

  Carrie wondered how she'd landed in such a big mess. Ivy would never believe what happened to her. Not in a million years! But then, who would have thought that a dragon egg could hatch?