The Ginger Cat (The Witching World Book 4) by Lucia Ashta

Author:Lucia Ashta [Ashta, Lucia]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Awaken to Peace Press
Published: 2017-08-05T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 33

It took a long time to get us moving again. I suspected the sun had traveled far in the sky since we first stepped foot inside the castle, but there was no way to know. No hint of the outside filtered inside the dungeon, neither the warmth of sunshine, nor any other kind of hopeful imagery.

We waited for Sylvia and the injured split of Marcelo to awaken, and in that time I studied my surroundings more closely. Marcelo was bent over Mordecai, who couldn’t yet move, and whispered something to him, that I assumed were his concerns of another attack before we gathered our defenses.

My eyes saw remarkably well in the dimness, now that they had ample opportunity to adjust properly to the lack of light. I noticed shackles, encrusted with the dried and caked blood of several miserable victims. There were at least five sets bolted into the floor. Winston’s foot distractedly nudged one of them, and I wondered, not for the first time, what had made him want to join the ranks of someone like the Count.

My sight discovered dark stains across the dungeon floor, blood again I suspected, aged and set so the pain of others would never be erased. But other than that, the dungeon was an unremarkable space, the product of a man who possessed more hatred than real imagination.

Time moved slowly down there. Marcelo’s concerned eyes marked the passing minutes; each one increased the danger to us. Finally, when he considered the risk of further attack more pressing than the risk of moving before we were ready, he helped Mordecai stand. The old man rose from the floor with a groan, but eventually stood. Marcelo left him leaning against the wall.

Next, Marcelo crouched in front of his nephew and Winston. They returned his attention wide-eyed. If he wanted to hurt them then, there was little they could do to prevent it.

“We are going to leave. Our plan is to attempt to slip out of the castle without notice and regain our strength.”

I started to complain from the other side of Marcelo and he whirled to face me. “Clara, I know it’s your sister, but we’re of no use to her now. I must get you all out to safety, or there’ll be no chance of ever rescuing her.”

He turned back toward the young men. “You can choose to come with us. We won’t harm you in any way as long as you don’t intend to harm us. If you decide to remain behind with Count Washur, I’ll allow it. But next time we face you, we’ll consider you our enemy.

“Sala—”

“No!” Salazar interrupted. Marcelo’s nephew shook his head briefly, before he was forced to lean it into his hands, stilling it. “No,” he said again, this time little more than a whisper. “Don’t use my name.”

Marcelo looked suspiciously at his nephew, almost a replica of his younger self. Through narrowed eyes, he continued. “All right, then. My nephew, I’d very much like it if you’d join us.

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