Chapter 136
"Noooo!
Micah screamed, her hand shot out, and she clutched the wall just as she was about to tumble and fall. Her firm grip kept her from plunging down.
Her eyes flashed with horror, suddenly softened when she was able to regain her balance.
She staggered back from the opening, her cloak sweeping against the wet stone as the faint light from the lantern in her hand flickered over her pale face.
Her steps were slow and unsteady, the echo of her boots mingling with the dripping sound of water from above. She pressed her back against the wall, her breath shallow, her hawk gaze surveying her surroundings.
"Cursed fortune!
She snarled, her breath hitched.
She didn't waste any more time to think of her predicament; she immediately turned on her boots and made her way back through the same route she had taken.
When Micah had discovered these hidden tunnels, she only saw the end of some of the tunnels before retreating back.
The particular tunnel she had taken, she had never laid eyes upon the end; apparently she mistook the tunnel for another one.
It must be the pressure ... Why on earth would she be mixing up the tunnels? ...just why!
Now climbing up the same staircase she had taken, her pace had tripled. She wanted to leave this place as soon as possible, and the delay could be dangerous.
She made her way towards another route; to get to this other tunnel, she had to pass through the great hallway. This was going to be harder than she thought.
She slipped into the great hallway, her steps muffled with heavy silence. She turned off the oil lantern in her hand.
The fire torches along the walls sputtered faintly, their light broken by the tall marble pillars that lined the corridor; she wanted to lurk within the shadows.
She pressed herself against one of the huge pillars, the cold stone biting through her sleeve as she held her breath.
From there, she risked a glance.
Slowly, she leaned forward, her hood falling slightly as she popped her head out from behind the pillar to take a peek.
Her eyes darted between the guards posted along the hall, six of them at least, their armor glinting in the wavering light.
She withdrew quickly, her heart thudding in her chest.
For a moment she stayed hidden, back pressed flat against the pillar, listening to the rhythm of their boots echoing faintly down the hall.
She knew she had to move, but one wrong step and the sound of her footsteps alone could give her away.
She needed a distraction.
Her eyes darted about, searching through the shadows for anything she could use.
The hallway stretched long and silent; her hands brushed the cold stone of the pillar as she turned, scanning every corner.
Then she saw it …
A marble statue across from where she stood, gleaming weakly under the reflection of the fire torches on the wall.
Its pedestal was narrow and fragile-looking; a single push might be enough to send it crashing down.
Her breath steadied. If she could reach it without being seen, the sound might draw the guards to the far end of the hall—just long enough for her to slip past.
She crouched low, gathering the edge of her cloak so it wouldn't drag against the floor.
Every step she took was measured, her boots whispering over the cold tiles. The faint clink of a guard's armor made her freeze midway, heart pounding against her ribs.
When silence returned, she moved again slowly and deliberately, trying not to make a sound.
At last she reached the statue.
She placed her hand on the statue; one hard shove would do it. She hesitated, watching the guards through the flicker of flame… then pushed.
The statue teetered, wobbled, and finally crashed to the floor with a thunderous echo that tore through the silence of the great hall.
"Who's there?" One of the guards shouted, his voice echoing sharply through the great hallway.
Micah stumbled back, pressing herself behind the nearest pillar. Her cloak swept the floor as she crouched low, heart rate racing wildly.
Boots scraped against the floor as the guards started moving, their torches flaring, scanning the shadows. She bit her lip to keep herself from breathing too loudly, every muscle in her body stiff with terror.
One of the guards began making his way in her direction. Her heart skipped a beat; she curled up, crouching lower behind the pillar.
From where she stood behind the massive pillar, she caught a glimpse of the guard's boots.
Her pulse hammered in her ears, drowning out everything else.
The guard paused. For a dreadful moment, she thought he had seen the edge of her cloak.
But then he turned away, muttering something under his breath before retracing his steps toward the fallen statue.
With the guards now distracted, some gathered around the shattered statue, others fanning out in search of the intruder, Micah knew this was her only chance.
She rose quietly from her hiding place; she stole one last glance toward the guards. Their backs were turned.
Then she moved.
In one swift motion, she dashed through the narrow corridor ahead, her boots barely touching the floor.
The air rushed past her face as she broke from the corridor, taking another lobby before finally stepping into the great hallway.
From the great hallway, she veered sharply into another lobby, her footsteps echoing faintly, her breath becoming unstable.
From the great hallway, she veered sharply into another lobby, her footsteps echoing faintly off the high arches. The corridor was dim, lined with old portraits and unlit sconces that stretched into the dark.
She reached for the nearest door, her hand closing around its cold iron handle.
With a firm push, it creaked open, revealing a narrow passage sloping downward.
A damp gust of air hits her face.
Without hesitation, she slipped inside and began her descent down the staircase. The wooden steps creaked under her weight.
The tunnel walls pressed close, the flicker of her lantern casting shadows ahead.
This was the old escape route, built generations ago, forgotten by most, but she discovered it.
At last, the stairs came to an end… And there, faintly lit by the glow of her lamp, another door came into view.
Its surface was old and swollen with moisture, the iron hinges streaked with rust.
She hesitated for a moment, tightening her grip on the lantern, her heart thudding as she wondered what lay beyond.
She inhaled sharply, reached for the handle, and nudged the door open. It gave way with a low groan, the sound echoing faintly through the tunnel.
A stream of cool air rushed in at once, swirling around her cloak and lifting the edge of her hood.
The breeze carried the scent of earth, a breath of the world beyond.
For a moment she simply stood there, her lamp flickering in the sudden draft, eyes clouding with tears.
This part of the castle was only know to fee people, the royal guards were never seen around this lane. Intruders were not likely to break in since the door was hidden beneath overgrown vines.
Beyond the door stretched a vast field, bathed in the cold glow of the moonlight above.
The sky rumbled above, threads of lightning splitting the clouds in jagged bursts that illuminated the land for fleeting moments.
Micah stepped out, her boots trampling the tall, wet grass that swayed wildly in the rising wind.
Strands of her dark hair twirl across her face, caught in the restless breeze.
She lowered the lamp to the ground, its dim flame flickering wildly in the wind before settling into a trembling glow.
Then she began to walk, her pace steady, the grass parting softly beneath her boots.
The night breeze tugged at her cloak, making it flap like a dark wing behind her.
Lightning flashed again across the sky, briefly casting her shadow long across the open field.
She didn't look back; it was like she was in a trance. She kept moving rigidly; if this was a dream, she didn't want to wake up.
She stopped and slowly lifted her face to the heavens, her eyes shutting against the cool rush of wind.
The clouds above had drifted apart, revealing endless stars ahimmering in the dark sky.
Then, spreading her arms wide, she began to spin around under the vast sky, her cloak spiraling around her like a dark wave beneath the moonlight.
Suddenly, she broke into a sprint, her feet pounding against the grass in wide, desperate strides.
Her hair streamed behind her, tangled and wild in the rushing wind. The sky rumbled above, thunder rolling across the heavens like the growl of some unseen beast.
Then came the rain—
First a drizzle, soft against her skin, then a sudden downpour that drenched her cloak and plastered her hair to her face.
But she didn't slow down; she kept running, her breath sharp and fierce against the cold night air.
She was free…
Free at last.