A Shade of Novak 8 by Forrest Bella

Author:Forrest, Bella [Forrest, Bella]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781505437003
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2014-12-09T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 17: ROSE

A fter about an hour of screaming and bashing the front door, it was clear that nobody was going to let me out. My fists raw from pounding against the rough wood, I walked back into the bedroom and drew open the balcony doors. I stepped outside onto the balcony and looked around.

That witch never said anything about locking me in here. I’m supposed to be a guest.

First I looked out toward the sea—it appeared to be night now, since the sun no longer glistened against the waves outside of the boundary.

I shuddered. Below me was a steep drop of hundreds of feet, down onto jagged mountain cliffs. I was on one of the highest floors of the building. It would be suicide to escape this way. There was nothing to hold on to. Just rock.

There were rows of balconies, both on my level and also the level above. But the balconies were too far apart for me to jump safely from one to the other.

I left the balcony and looked around the bedroom. I headed straight for the closet and was relieved to see a warm, thick robe. I wrapped it around myself and felt a little warmer, though still frozen to the bone.

There didn’t appear to be central heating in this castle. Although there was an old-fashioned fireplace in the corner of my room. It was filled with dry logs and some coal. Grabbing a set of matches on the mantelpiece, I lit the fire until it was stoked enough to warm the room. I lay in bed and huddled beneath the blankets, finally feeling my body return to a healthy temperature.

That was when the door unlatched. I rushed out of the bedroom in time to see the door slam shut and the key turn again. On the floor was a tray. There was a jug of water, an empty metal cup, and a metal bowl. I bent down closer to sniff the bowl. Oatmeal.

Oatmeal, huh. If this is what you feed your guests, I hate to think what you feed your prisoners.

I drank the water, but I didn’t have any appetite for food. Especially not oatmeal.

I shuddered as I wondered if Ben was being treated any better. Somehow, under Stellan’s rule, I doubted it.

Once I’d finished drinking the water, I curled back in bed beneath the covers and tried to fall asleep. But I couldn’t. I lay for hours, staring at the chandelier hanging from the ceiling. I couldn’t get the harrowing images of Ben being sucked back into that black submarine out my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about how worried our parents would be once they found out we weren’t in Scotland.

It must have been well past midnight when a thump reverberated across my ceiling. Then another thump. It sounded like it was coming from the room directly above mine. The thumps got louder and more violent until the chandelier was swinging in its place.

What in the world?

“Stop,” a man shouted, making my heart leap into my throat.

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