I didn’t know who Horace was and I didn’t care – not until a brownie flapped through the gap in the door. Eloise clearly wasn’t Athair’s only indentured servant.
The little man with dark wings and tattered clothing halted in mid-air. His jaw dropped as he stared at us, his eyes flicking from me to Hugo to Hester and Otis in the depths of the darkoubliette. Then he somersaulted in the air and sped out the way he’d come. My terror increased tenfold.
‘What the fuck are you doing, Horace?’ Athair growled. ‘Get into the tower.’
‘I’ve had enough of waiting for answers. Where is my sister?’ It was unmistakably the brownie’s voice. ‘She’s been gone for ages.’
My stomach dropped. Horace – whoever he was – was putting his life in danger by delaying Athair. He was helping us in an extraordinary fashion.
Athair’s rejoinder was clipped with anger. ‘It’s no concern of yours where she is.’ There was a crack of magic followed by a sharp, high-pitched scream. ‘And I do not appreciate your attitude.’
My hand clutched Hugo’s arm. He understood: he knew exactly what the brownie had done for us and how vital it was that we took advantage of the extra seconds we’d gained as a result. But he also grimaced and gestured helplessly at the stairs. He was right: Athair was less than two metres away. If we tried to leave via the staircase, there was every chance he’d notice us: the door was already ajar by a good four inches.
Alas, there was only one place for us to hide. It would be a tight, unpleasant squeeze but there was no choice.
I spun around and jumped feet first into the oubliette, narrowly avoiding landing on William Hausman’s decomposed body. Hester and Otis had pressed themselves against the damp walls of the narrow dungeon and were holding Hausman’s golden ring between them. I hoped that all the work they’d done to retrieve it would be worthwhile.
I scrambled to my feet, moved to the side to make more space, and a moment later Hugo jumped in and joined us. His white teeth flashed in a humourless grin.
There was a loud creak as the tower door opened fully and Athair strode in. Don’t look down, I prayed. Please don’t look down.
‘Stop snivelling, you whining shite.’
I wrapped my arms around my body and tried not to breathe, blink or twitch but it was easier said than done, especially when my nose started to itch. A sneeze was approaching. Cumbubbling bollocks.
‘I’m sorry,’ Horace croaked, his voice filled with pain. Whatever Athair had done to him as punishment for his question must have been truly horrible. I squeezed my eyes shut for a long, agonised moment. I couldn’t repay Horace’s sacrifice by sneezing.I couldn’t.
‘One more inappropriate word from you,’ Athair muttered, ‘and I will rip the wings from your body.’
Hester’s eyes widened with horror.
‘Be more mindful of your place.’
Horace’s response was a whisper. ‘Yes, master.’
Athair started to ascend the staircase and I risked raising my hand to pinch my nose and stop my sneeze from escaping. It was enough. I breathed out and glanced at Hugo and the brownies. They gazed back at me. We all knew we were lucky to still be alive.
Hugo pointed upwards. There was only one way out of the oubliette and that was the same way we’d entered it. Escape would be impossible for anyone non-magical.
There was a reason why William Hausman had died down here: bottle dungeons were impossible to get out of without help, whether that was of the magical variety or a helping human hand. The walls that surrounded us tapered upwards in such a way that nobody could climb out; there was no point even trying. Air magic would provide us with the boost we needed but wecouldn’t try that until Athair was far away and couldn’t sense our power.
I took out my phone and checked it: no signal, not even a flicker. For the time being we were trapped. I pulled a face to indicate that to Hugo and he nodded grimly. We were stuck – but the brownies were a different matter.
I didn’t dare speak aloud so I gestured to Hester and Otis. They could fly out of the bottle dungeon with Hausman’s signet ring. It would take them some time to travel to the rendezvous point with Slim but they’d manage it. They’d be free and they could take the ring with them.
Hester and Otis watched my attempt at silent communication then looked at each other. An unspoken agreement passed between them. A moment later, Hester shrugged and Otis, obviously confused, pursed his lips. I gritted my teeth. They knew exactly what I was telling them to do but they were pretending not to understand.
I nudged Hugo, indicating that he should try sign language with them but he raised his eyebrows dubiously. They were no more likely to pay attention to him than they were to me, but their lives might depend on it. At least if they were safe, I’d feel better.
Hugo embarked upon a complicated mime and this time the brownies’ confusion was genuine; frankly, so was mine. Charades were not his strong suit. I tried to add my own fluttering hands into the mix but I didn’t get far before we were interrupted.
‘What the fuck are you lot doing here?’ The harsh hiss came from overhead. I looked up and immediately spotted Horace hovering above us. He lowered himself until he was level with Hester and Otis. The large welt across his face was still bleeding. My jaw clenched. Fucking Athair. Fucking bastard.
‘We came to get that,’ I whispered as quietly as I could and pointed to the gold ring that Hester and Otis were hanging onto. ‘From him.’ I nodded at William Hausman’s body beside us.
If anything, Horace’s disbelief only increased. ‘Why?’
‘It’s important,’ Hugo told him. ‘Very important.’
