Witches of Twisted Den 2 by Tim O'Rourke

Author:Tim O'Rourke
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2016-10-31T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Mila Watson

…I heard the sound of keys rattling in the lock of the cell door once more. I dragged myself up onto my knees. My head ached so much it felt like my skull had been fractured. Thoughts of Flint, the witches of Twisted Den, and my mother seemed just out of reach at the furthest corners of my mind. Had I been dreaming about them? Perhaps, but I seemed unable to remember. The chains which bound my wrists together had caused the skin beneath them to turn red and swollen. I felt as if every single joint in my body had been torn apart from where I’d been sleeping on the cold stone floor of the cell. Two of the three candles had burnt down and gone out, leaving only one, which was close to dying out, too. In what little light the candle cast about the cell, I could see that both Calix and Flint were coming awake, woken by the sound of the cell door swinging slowly open. I readied myself to see Trent, Rea, and Rush come into the cell and take us to the vampires just like Flint said they would. But could I trust Flint? Could I trust anyone? What would my mother have done? From what little I knew about my mother, she, too, had placed her trust in the wrong side. But I really didn’t want to take sides. I had feelings for both Calix and Flint. Something else my mother had done. She had fallen in love with a vampire and a werewolf.

It wasn’t Trent, Rea, or Rush who stepped into the cell. To my surprise, it was someone else altogether.

Clarabelle stepped into the fading candlelight. Her long, black hair hung about her shoulders, and the white dress she wore was almost as dirty and splashed with mud as her bare feet. In her hands she carried both mine and Calix’s gun belts and Flint’s sword. Without saying anything, she placed them on the floor in front of me. She looked back just once over her shoulder into the dark passageway that led away from the cell.

Sensing that we were still alone, she looked back at me and said, “We must hurry, Mila.”

She took a large, circular ring from her pocket from which hung several iron keys. They were the same keys that Morten had used to let me into the cell so I could visit Flint.

“Does Morten know you have those?” I asked, as Clarabelle hurriedly unlocked the chains fastened about my wrists.

“Are you kidding me?” she said, pulling the chains free. “He won’t stay unconscious for long before…”

“Unconscious? What did you do to him?” I asked, trying to suppress a smile that wanted to crack across my face.

“I put a few drops of Essence of Wolfsbane into his evening drink, but I don’t think it will knock him out for long,” she said, turning her back on me and heading across the cell to Calix. As she began

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