Molly buried her face in the crook of his neck, feeling the tears prick at the back of her eyes. She’d never been so happy to see anyone in her life. She clung to him as if he were a lifeline, her fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt. Conall held her close.
“I thought I’d lost ye,” he whispered into her hair. “When they took ye away...” His voice broke.
Molly pulled back slightly and looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “You’re here now,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “That’s all that matters.”
Conall smiled down at her, his thumb brushing gently over her cheek. “Come on,” he said, taking her hand. “We need to get out of here.”
Molly nodded. She didn’t know how Conall had gotten free , but she didn’t care. All she knew was that they were together again, and they were going to get out of there. She followed him out of the room and into the hallway, her heart racing. The guards outside were unconscious on the floor, but probably wouldn’t remain that way for long. They didn’t have much time.
Conall paused only long enough to take a sword from one of the guards, then they crept slowly down the hallway. As they reached the stairwell at the end, Molly heard the sound of voices echoing up from below. Many voices.
“How are we going to get out?” Molly asked, pressing her lips close to Conall’s ear. “If we go through the keep and out the main gate, we’ll be spotted. It’s crawling with your father’s men.”
“I know,” Conall replied, looking around intently. “Which is why we’re not going to go that way.” He tugged her arm. “Follow me.”
He led her back the way they’d come, past the two unconscious guards and to the far end of the corridor where they found a narrow, dusty staircase that she guessed must be for use by the servings staff.
Conall paused, listening, and looking up and down the stairs. Seemingly satisfied, he tugged her on. “Quickly now.”
They descended the stairs warily, pausing every so often to listen, but they encountered nobody. Now and then they passed a landing with a door that must lead to other parts of the Pinnacle and from behind some of these came the sounds of the castle: people talking, the clink of dishes, the tramp of footsteps. Each time, Conall pressed them back against the wall of the stairwell until he was sure it was safe to pass.
Molly had no idea where they were going, but she didn’t ask. She just concentrated on following Conall and not making any noise. Finally, though, the stairs became darker and more ominous as they went deeper into the bowels of the keep. The air was damp and heavy with musty odors, and Molly’s boots squelched with each step as the stairs grew narrower.
The further they descended, the cooler the air became, and Molly shivered as the chill seeped into her bones. The stairs seemed to go on forever, winding ever-deeper beneath the castle’s foundations until finally, they reached the bottom. It was dark and damp down here; a thin layer of water coated the stone beneath their feet and glistened in eerie patches on the walls.
They reached a door, black with age. It was held shut by a thick rusty chain. Conall crouched in front of it, examined it momentarily, and then began picking the lock with a set of tools he shook from his sleeve.
He worked quickly and confidently, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he manipulated the tiny pins within the lock. Molly held her breath. After what felt like hours, there was a soft click and Conall stood up, nodding to her triumphantly.
“So that’s how you got out of your cell,” she said with a smile. “Here’s me thinking you’re a noble lord when all the time you’re a no-good lock-picker.”
He gave a lop-sided smile in response. “What can I say? My father’s cell isnae the first one I’ve been in. Lock-picking is a very valuable skill—everyone should learn it.”
“I’ll bear that in mind.” She sobered abruptly. “What are we going to do, Conall? How are we going to stop your father?”
He placed his hands on her shoulders. “We aren’t. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, Molly, but the biggest was putting ye in danger. I willnae make that mistake again. When they dragged ye away from me...” His voice broke and he had to swallow a few times before he could continue. “Dear Lord, I’ve never been so terrified as I was at that moment. If anything should happen to ye... Molly, I canna let that happen. I willnae let that happen. So we are leaving. We will get out of the Pinnacle, across the loch, and away from here. The Order of the Osprey can deal with my father and Leif Snarlsson. Ye are what matters now.”
His grip on her shoulders tightened. “Ye are all that matters, Molly. We’ll go back to Lanwick and then from there,” he paused, taking a deep breath, before he continued. “And then from there I will take ye back to the beach where I found ye so ye can go home. If that is what ye want.”
Molly looked up at him. She ached to see her da again. She longed to see her friends, her home. But the thought of leaving Conall? Of never seeing him again? It made her feel sick to her stomach and sent a deep, insidious terror spiraling through her.
“I...I...”
He put a finger against her lips. “Ye dinna have to say anything, lass. Let’s just get out of here first.”
He pressed his forehead against hers and Molly squeezed her eyes closed at the touch. Her heart fluttered against her ribs like a trapped bird. Dear God, how could she ever think of leaving this man? Dear God, how could she ever think of staying?
Conall gave her that ravishing smile that set her heart racing. “Time to get out of here.”
He grabbed the door handle and pulled. With a loud groan, the door swung open. Beyond it lay freedom—or at least that’s what Molly hoped.
On the other side, she found herself in an undercroft held up by thick pillars. A canal ran down the center of the room with several boats pulled up along its banks. She realized she was inside the water gate underneath the castle, used to transport goods into and out of it without having to pass through the main gates.
Conall pushed her up against the wall in the shadows as he peered cautiously around. There was no noise other than the water lapping against the sides of the canal. They appeared to have the place to themselves. Still Conall waited, his gray eyes sweeping every corner, searching for hidden enemies.
Finally, he seemed satisfied. He gestured for them to move, and Molly followed him across to the canal and to one of the small rowing boats tied up there.
Molly stepped carefully into the boat, balancing herself against the rocking of the canal water as Conall began untying it from its moorings. She held onto one of the benches to steady herself as she settled into her seat.
