From The Ashes (The Ministry of Curiosities #6)(4)

Despite my anger and frustration, I missed him terribly. I both hated and loved him, which I gave up trying to understand. My feelings regarding him were in turmoil, but my feelings regarding my situation were clear. I wanted to see my friends again. I wanted to be home with them, and Lichfield was my home. I belonged there. Thinking about what I'd left behind filled me with sorrow so black and deep I doubted I'd ever be free of it.

Damn him. Damn him for making me feel this way, for giving me everything my heart desired then ripping it away from me. I'd removed my engagement ring before reaching the school to avoid awkward questions, but I longed to fling it back in his face. If I ever saw him again, I'd—

Stop! Stop considering the future.

I mustn't think too far ahead, and certainly mustn't allow myself to hope that I would go home again. There was only here and now, the darkness, the loneliness and the scurrying rats. I had to get out of the dungeon first, and then turn my attention to breaking free from the school in the spring. What came after that…I would just have to wait and see.

The scratching suddenly sounded very close. I sprang off the slab, pushing myself up with my hands. Pain sliced across my palm where Mrs. Denk's cane had seared my flesh. I swore at the top of my lungs, and shook out my hand, but it didn't help. It hadn't hurt this much before.

Think of something else. Think of escaping in the spring.

I heard scurrying again, and kicked out, but didn't connect with any living creature. If only my imp could remove the creatures for me, or, even better, get me out of the dungeon. But the cat-like creature living inside the amber sphere hanging around my neck only obeyed me when saving my life. Perhaps I could convince it that rats were a direct threat to my person.

I leaned against the column with a sigh, not wanting to sit down and risk something burrowing into the folds of my skirts. My stomach growled. I'd not eaten since breakfast and I must have been in the dungeon several hours already. I needed to use the privy too. A horrible thought struck me. What if Mrs. Denk decided to leave me down here? Who would stop her? No one dared cross her, not even the other teachers. I could starve to death. Or die from boredom.

My imagination conjured up all the ways in which I could die, and calculated how long it would take. It wasn't the happiest way to pass the time, but at least it meant I was no longer thinking about Lincoln.

More time passed, but I couldn't fathom the length. More than a day? Two? I had to squat in the corner to relieve myself, holding my skirts high to keep them clean. I pictured rats sniffing at my hind quarters, and quickly finished and returned to my column in the center of the dungeon. I found my way by feel, my good hand skimming over slimy stones as cold as ice. I shivered as the freezing air seeped through my clothing and skin to my bones. Forget starvation. I would die from the cold before lack of food.

My legs grew too weary to hold me up so I squatted, and finally sat. I don't know when I gave up worrying about rats, but I found I no longer cared if they ventured closer to inspect me. I was sure I felt their tiny claws over my hands, their twitchy noses near my ear. The only thing that roused me from the slab of stone was the sensation of something crawling through my hair.

I scampered away, only to smack into another column. I'm ashamed to admit that I squealed. Pathetic. The old Charlie would have fallen about laughing if one of the lads in the gang had screamed when a rat ran through his hair. This Charlie was so much weaker. At that moment, I hated her.

I stood. The old Charlie and the new must make her own luck. I felt my way to the stairs, and tripped up the first step, landing hard on my hands and knees. I grunted as pain spiked through my palm, but managed to suppress it enough to continue up to the top. I banged on the door with my fist then waited.

No answer.

"Anyone? Is there someone there?"

Nothing.

I banged again and shouted as loud as I could but there was no response. I felt utterly removed, as if the nearest person was miles away. If the teachers and students abandoned the castle, I would never know.

I leaned back against the door and closed my eyes. Tears leaked from beneath my lashes. I was thirsty, hungry and helpless. Damn Mrs. Denk to hell, and damn Lincoln too.

The tinkling of metal had me opening my eyes again. How long had they been shut? I couldn't see a thing, not even the wispy ghost whose chain mail made the sound.

"Is anyone there?" I asked the darkness.

The tinkling ceased. Had he stopped or simply floated through to another part of the castle?

"I can see you, Mr. Ghost," I ventured. "Well, not now, it's too dark, but I've seen you wandering the halls of the school."

"School?" The rough masculine voice was closer than I thought.

I grinned. So he could hear me. Thank goodness he wasn't completely mad and unaware of my presence.

"'Tis not a school," he went on, with equal parts pride and arrogance lacing his tone. "'Tis Inglemere. My home."

"You owned this castle?"

"Aye, but I'd wager it was some time ago. Time has no meaning now. I am dead," he added, as if it would be news to me. "Are you the one they are all a-twitter about upstairs?"

"I suspect so. Charlie Holloway, at your service."

"Sir Geoffrey Falstead. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mistress Holloway. It is not often that I meet a seer of spirits. You are only the second."