Page 80 of Once Upon a Castle
“I know it tastes vile, but you must drink all of it,” she urged. “Do it for your old friend Rob.”
When he emptied the vial, she lowered his head to the pillow. “I wish I could stay by your side,” she whispered as she smoothed the blanket over him, “but there’s no time to waste. I must get the antidote to William.”
She hesitated for a moment, wishing he would say something that would set her mind at ease. But he stared mutely, then closed his eyes.
She struggled against a growing feeling of dread as she hurried along the darkened hallway toward William’s suite. Inside, she found him tossing and turning, fighting the demons that came to him in sleep.
“William,” she whispered fiercely, touching a hand to his shoulder.
At once he swung out a fist, barely missing her.
“William,” she said again in a louder voice, “I bring you word from Diana.”
At the mention of that name he went very still.
Felicity took a deep breath and reminded herself that the lie was for his own good. “Diana has said that if you love her you will drink this. All of it,” she added as she lifted the vial to his lips.
Without a word of protest he did as he was told.
Felicity dropped the empty vial into her pocket and touched a hand to his cheek in a gesture of tenderness. “Rest now, William. I pray you are soon removed from this nightmare and reunited with your true love.”
As she turned, she was shocked to see two menacing figures in the doorway.
“So. It’s as you suspected, Ian. Our houseguest refused to heed my warning.” Honora advanced on Felicity. “We’d hoped your absence today meant that you were packing to return to America. But that was too much to hope for. Now you’ll have to pay for your meddling.”
“What…do you think you can do to me?” Felicity took a step backward and found herself trapped against the wall.
“What can we do?” Ian laughed, and Honora followed suit. “Miss Andrews, you’re going to disappear. Never to be seen again.”
In the glow of candlelight, Felicity saw a cloth in his hand. Too late, she realized what he intended. He pinned her and held the cloth to her face until she breathed deeply. The sickly odor made her head swim. Though she was not unconscious, she no longer had the will to fight.
Felicity could feel the drug taking effect. Her mind seemed separated from her body. When Ian lifted her in his arms and descended the stairs, she felt herself drifting. She heard the door to the castle being opened and closed. A cold, dark mist swirled before her eyes, and she wondered why she was being carried outside. She felt the wet brush of tree branches as she was being carried through the gardens. There was a loud scraping sound, as of a heavy door being forced open. They descended more steps, and the air reeked of damp earth and mold.
Honora’s voice seemed to roll in waves over Felicity, loud, then soft, then loud again. “You can scream as much as you please in this place, and no one will ever hear. How apt. The Falcon family mausoleum. In a few weeks, when we return, it will be a simple matter to dispose of your body in one of the crypts.”
Felicity tried to speak, to implore them not to leave her. But her throat was so constricted, she couldn’t manage more than a small moan. She heard the sound of their footsteps, and the scrape of the heavy door. Shared laughter trilled. Then there was only silence.
The blackness was impenetrable, like a shroud. Holding her hand in front of her face, Felicity bit back a cry when she couldn’t see it. So this, then, was her fate. She would die, alone, in the Falcon mausoleum. No one would mourn her. Nor would anyone ever find her. She would disappear without a trace. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away. She must not allow herself to give in to grief. Until her last breath was drawn, she would fight. Somehow.
She groped blindly, in search of any means of escape. She shuddered when her hands tangled in a spiderweb and she felt the rush of insects across her arms. It took several minutes before she could stop the trembling. Then, forcing herself to move on, she scraped her knuckles over the sharp edges of stone and realized she was standing before a crypt.
As she stood there, a soft glow seemed to radiate from the stone. She watched in fascination as the glow became a halo of light shimmering around the figure of a man.
“Gareth. Oh, Gareth, thank heaven.”
He gathered her into an embrace and she hugged him fiercely, pressing her lips to his throat. He could hear the tears in her voice as she whispered fiercely, “Honora and Ian left me here to die. I thought…I thought this time they’d won.”
Against a tangle of hair at her temple he muttered, “You may be right, love.”
She lifted her head to peer at him. His image blurred and faded. And then it struck her. There was no heat in his touch. No strength in his embrace.
“Oh, Gareth. What are you saying?”
“My powers…are diminished. That is the price exacted.”
She touched a hand to his cheek and felt the chill. “You knew. Before we loved.”
He nodded.
