The Book Eaters(112)
“Me, then. I would love to have you with us.” Again, that rising blush; a reaction so unlike her. “By the way, speaking of Killock, I saw him here just before I came out—”
Hester’s face fell. “Yes, he was going to the chapel. He was—” She stopped.
“For ‘communion’?”
“I really wish that he and I hadn’t argued. This may be the last time I’ll see him. But done is done.” She sighed. “Where’s Cai?”
Devon was about to answer when her phone buzzed, loud in the relative quiet. She plucked it out reflexively and flipped it open.
Incoming call, from Ramsey.
She stared at the small gray screen, adrenaline skittering through her. He had no reason to get in touch right now, unless something had gone wrong. Or else his plans had changed.
The phone buzzed louder, like an angry electronic insect.
“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Hester said, making futile shushing motions at her. “Or turn it off, at least?”
Filled with sudden suspicion, Devon mashed the Reject button and listened, hard, in the silence that followed.
The quiet pace of a sleepy country night. Birds and insects. Winter wind in the trees.
No—not so quiet. In the distance, she could hear engines rumbling, low but distinct, and rapidly growing louder. Like a group of vehicles approaching.
“Shit.” She dropped the phone, stomping on it with her heel; plastic and lithium cracked beneath her boots. “We have to go, right now.”
“What’s wrong?”
The engine rumblings grew louder. Vehicles were definitely approaching, more than one.
“Ramsey is here! Hours early!”
At the far end of the lawns, headlights gleamed as vehicles turned off the main road and on to the edge of Traquair’s property. A lot of headlights. And here she was, still out in the relative open, still in plain sight.
“Go,” Devon said frantically. “Back through the house, that’s the fastest route!”
She broke into a sprint, Hester at her side.
Rubber tires burned grass as the knights’ motorbikes ate up distance, veering across the green. In Traquair House, more lights were coming on and faces were appearing at windows. Folks inside Traquair were noticing the disturbance. Killock’s face appeared at the chapel doorway, alarmed and wide-eyed.
“Where are we going?” Hester said in a hissed whisper.
“Observation tower. Mani and Cai are already there!” Devon crashed through the iron-studded front door and into the entrance hall, slid wildly on the slick tiles, and caught her balance against the rough-hewn walls.
From the front of the house, sounds of honking and engines roaring as the knights pulled up en masse.
“Hes?” A worried-looking Ravenscar man came running in. “What’s going on? There are visitors on—”
He cut off into a yell as Devon shoved him aside, veering past the Blue Room toward the kitchen, where she knew there’d be a different exit. She shouldered open the kitchen door and sidestepped another pair of surprised mind eater siblings who were making inktea on the stove.
Devon burst out of the kitchen’s back door, arm still linked with Hester’s. A series of steps led down to yet more green space, dominated by the overgrown hedge maze. And beyond that, mostly covered from here by trees, the little white observation tower. Hopefully Cai and Mani were already there.
She sprinted down the stairs, Hester at her side. Glad that Cai was safely away from all this. The first scream rang from Traquair House behind them, followed by a gunshot and a crash. More soon followed, the knights’ cover broken in a matter of seconds. There would be blood all over those walls in short order, if there wasn’t already.
“There’s no time for my brothers to run away.” Hester sounded faint, looked fainter. “Everyone in that house is going to die and it’s my fault for not warning them!”
A crossbow bolt split the air between them, narrowly missing Devon’s nose. A lone knight emerged from the same door they’d just used. His crossbow was already reloaded, the beam swinging up and angling for another shot.
Hester pulled a battered revolver from her new handbag, fingers a blur of speed. Ravenscar and knight fired simultaneously. Her bullet blew his neck apart. His bolt skewered her shoulder with a meaty thud.
She staggered back from the force of impact with an un-Hester-like cry, catching herself on the railing. The knight folded to the ground, black blood pouring from his fingers as he tried to stem the bleeding.
Devon sprinted toward the fallen knight and stomped hard on his injured throat. His death scream came out garbled. She snatched up the discarded crossbow with its detachable quiver and turned back.
Hester hadn’t moved. She was still clutching the railing, black blood soaking her blouse. Silk fabric pinned to a freckled shoulder.
“Are you okay?” Devon asked, then kicked herself for sounding so inane.
Hester laughed through gritted teeth, her forehead already running with sweat; she must have been in awful pain. “Peachy. Just, lovely.” She tried to straighten and swore loudly.
“I’ll get us out of here.” Devon slid an arm back around her waist, bracing them both. Crossbow hanging off her shoulder by its strap. She started hobbling them down the stairs, as fast as she dared when the steps were so narrow and slick.