The Binding

Chapter Thirty

    I nodded, "Whoever wants to leave is welcome to." Agnes repeated our discussion to the rest of the group. They all looked petrified. I looked at the hodgepodge assortment of youth. They were all old enough to know how to stay quiet but I wasn't sure they could control themselves long enough to escape. Most of them looked like teenagers, fitful, and unpredictable. Every one of them was terrified. I looked at the young boy. He shook his head, vigorously. One girl, no more than fifteen, stepped forward and nodded nervously.

    Only one, the rest chose to stay. Petro was right. I didn't want to judge them. They were terrified, and I didn't know or understand their lives.

    "We must go. Now," Agnes said, her voice full of tension and strained nearly to the point of cracking. "Before they find Özgür."

    She said something to the girls and placed her hand on the door handle, twisting it gently. The door opened a sliver, and Agnes waited a moment before opening it further and stuck her head out. Then, like a flash, she walked into the hallway, and I followed. The young girl slipped out after me then silently shut the door behind her.

    The hall was blissfully empty and silent. The girl walked toward the stairway, and Agnes stopped her, resting a hand on her shoulder and gestured with her head toward the opposite end.

    We followed Agnes to a door at the end of the hall. Agnes stood immobile with her hand placed delicately on the handle and waited, listening. She suddenly swung it open, and we rushed through. It was another smaller stairwell. Agnes closed the door, its click echoing against the walls. I ground my teeth at the noise. It seemed so loud.

    We made it down three flights before we heard voices. We immediately backtracked up the stairs. The voices pushed us up, flight after flight. Each door was locked until we were back on the fifth floor. The girl ran through the door and moved toward the main stairwell. She disappeared quickly and never looked back.  

    I felt something tap my shoulder, and I started, my heart galloping into my throat. I turned, and Agnes thrust her hand over my mouth. She waited until I calmed down before lowering her hand.

    "What?"

    She shook her head. "You get me out. I get you out." The voices from below were growing louder. "We go up," she said, pointing. 

    "Why up?"

    "You don't know building," she said, shaking her head with a determined frown. "Floor above is guards' rooms. Top is Petro. No guards."

    It was a dangerous plan but possibly the only option. It would be easier to hide up there. I needed to think. I nodded and followed her up two more flights. Agnes opened the door smoothly, the wood and hinges never making a whisper. This was the one floor I least wanted to be on.

    My skin itched, and sweat pooled, slipping down between my breasts and my shoulder blades. We walked to the first room. Those few seconds before we opened that door were the most terrifying. I kept imagining that Petro was waiting for me in that room. That sly seductive grin spread across his face, taunting me. He would enjoy catching me.

    It was his bedroom. A grand four-poster bed was displayed in the corner with a large fireplace opposite. A trophy case dominated another wall.

    What is it with the walls of weapons? Do all Avati have them, or is it just the men?

    Agnes followed me to the display. Her mouth formed a small O as she looked up at the wall of death. Every item on display was created for one purpose— one cold, chilling purpose. She picked up a long thin blade and twirled it in her fingers. Then she handed a fearsome looking dagger to me.