Wraith(67)

They hadn't left the wraith much wiggle room; he was standing bolt upright with only about three inches of air encircling his shadow. If I had been inside the circle, I would have been like him – unable to do a single thing to free myself. But magical wards like this one were difficult beasts to manage. The magic was contained within the circle, not outside it, and that meant that even in my shadow form I could break it. After all, I was currently outside the danger zone rather than inside it.

Unwilling to waste any more time I kicked out, sending salt flying in all directions. The wraith jerked, suddenly aware of my presence. I scuffed the floor again, this time disturbing enough of the salt to break all three circles. It was the best I could do. Regardless of the wraith’s employers, or what he'd been sent here to do, I had no quarrel with him. He had sacrificed himself so that Ange and I could get away; the least I could do was to give him a fighting chance of escape. Whatever awaited him when he returned to his physical form with the Gneiss goblins was his problem but I would have paid my debt.

For a moment the wraith seemed to look at me, his shadow entirely motionless. Then he raised his hand in acknowledgement and leapt past me. A breath later he was gone. I spun round, ready to follow him out of the small dungeon when something caught my eye in one of the other cells. I paused. I had to get back to Gabriel but something was tugging me towards that cell. I edged down to get a better look. I wished I hadn't.

It was Marrock. He might have been face down on the floor in a puddle of blood but I'd have recognised his slight form anywhere. When I realised that the cell door was open, a shudder rippled through me. There was only one reason why the goblins wouldn’t worry about a prisoner escaping through an open door.

I sprang towards him, altering my shadow so that I could flip over his inert body. As soon as I did so, my worst fears were confirmed. One eye stared sightlessly up at me, the glazed white caul of death already covering its surface. His other eyeball dangled uselessly from its socket by a thin red membrane. His blood had stopped flowing but the open wounds on his body showed what had happened to him after we'd left him. The goblins had worked fast. I wondered how much information Marrock had yielded while under torture. He might have had his uses for the Filits but, when discovery of the Stone of Scone was in play, they were obviously taking no chances.

I stumbled away, feeling sick to my stomach. Had Marrock known this would be his fate when he promised to delay the goblins so we could escape? Did this mean that there was already an army on its way to intercept Ange, Becky and the others on their urgent errand to Prime Minister James? I wondered if there was anything I could do about it and realised probably not. Our only hope now lay with Gabriel and me finding the Stone before the goblins did. If we didn't, more of us would suffer Marrock's fate.

I did everything I could to disconnect myself from what I had seen. With a heavy soul, I trudged back towards the main dungeon door. The goblin guard outside was in exactly the same position as before. I should have felt glad that my fellow wraith had slipped out quietly and without giving my presence away but all I felt was ill. The one time Marrock had done something unselfish, he'd wound up as a corpse face down on a cold, slimy floor. What a fucking waste.

I flitted back across the ceiling, keeping an eye on the guard, and went back up the staircase and out the way I’d come. When I reached the courtyard outside, not only had the sun dipped beyond the hills but there was no longer any sign of Gabriel. That meant he was looking for me, ratcheting up the danger for us both to perilous levels. At that moment I found it hard to care, given the gruesome sight I'd just seen. There was a strange, dull ache in the centre of my chest; by the time I reached my physical body, still hiding lifelessly in the armoire, my nausea was coalescing into rage.

After my shadow reconnected, I started to push open the armoire door and step out. The unmistakable sound of goblin voices reached my ears and I held back. I strained to listen.

‘…worry about him. He might be a Dark … still mortal.’

‘If he can smell… We … all … trouble…’

The voices faded away. I gritted my teeth. It was obvious who they were talking about but I'd only heard a phrase or two and I couldn't connect the dots. I was supposed to be good at piecing together secrets from fragments but I was struggling to push past the mental image of Marrock's corpse and focus. I wasn't used to my emotions overpowering me like this.

I couldn't dwell on it. I had to get back to Gabriel before he did something we’d both regret. I jumped out of the armoire and made for the door, pulling it open an inch so that the corridor beyond was visible. Whoever the goblins were, there was no sign of them now. With my heart thudding against my ribcage, I skidded back towards the main exit. Before I reached it, however, it slammed open.

Ghrashbreg and Gabriel appeared, one looking worried and the other suspicious.

‘Saiya.’ There was no mistaking the relief in Gabriel's voice. ‘Where did you go?’

If ever there was a moment to lie convincingly, this was it. I locked away my feelings about Marrock – and everything else – in a small box deep inside my heart and pasted a bashful look on my face. ‘I'm sorry,’ I gabbled. ‘I could say I got lost on my way to the restroom but the truth is that I was distracted by the castle. It's amazing in here. There are chairs in that room over there that must be hundreds of years old. The fabric on them is like nothing you've ever seen before. The gold brocade and the intricate embroidery.’ I shook my head in breathy amazement. ‘You need to come and see them.’