“See that it doesn’t,” Aiden acknowledged. “I cannot afford to burn any more of my castle.”
Under a volley of arrows aimed at the keep walls, they slipped back into the depths of the forest and headed back to the old hill fort.
* * *
The torch sputtered and died.
The room was pitched into darkness.
Isabail’s heart leapt into her throat. She’d never been in such a complete absence of light or sound. The stone wall at her back, which only seconds before had seemed solid and comforting, now felt cold and pressing. Each breath she drew provided less and less satisfaction, and she worried that she might suffocate.
Although she knew it was pointless, a scream rose in her throat, and she pounded her fist against the great stone portal.
“Help!” she cried. “Help! Please help me!”
* * *
It was near dawn when Aiden and the others returned triumphant to the encampment. The rescue of the captured men sparked an impromptu celebration that lasted until well past sunup. Only after he had consumed a well-deserved horn of ale and broken the fast did he withdraw to his chamber in search of Isabail.
When he entered the room, he found it empty. The brazier was cold, and there was no evidence that Isabail had passed the night.
The vixen had no doubt disobeyed him and laid her bed in her old hut. Had Aiden not been so weary, he would have sought her out and dragged her back to where she belonged. But her punishment could wait until after he was rested. Aiden dropped onto the pallet and, in a few short moments, found sleep.
* * *
“Laird MacCurran?”
He opened one eye and found Muirne staring down at him, her hands wringing the apron tied about her waist.
“How long have I been sleeping?” he asked, sitting up on the mattress and sweeping his heavy brown locks away from his face.
“‘Tis noontide.”
Perhaps not the sleep his body craved, but it would do. “What is it you seek, Muirne?”
“I fear for Lady Isabail,” she said.
The last cobwebs of his sleep-addled brain were swept aside. “Lady Isabail? Why?”
“She has disappeared,” Muirne said, tears falling. “She’s not been seen since late last night.”
Aiden shot to his feet. “Last night? Why did you not say anything?”
The tears came in earnest now. “She swore me to secrecy. Made me promise not to tell anyone what she was about.”
A cold stillness settled over Aiden. “And what was she about, Muirne?”
“You have to promise me you won’t punish her,” Muirne begged, dropping to her knees and holding her head. “I would never tell you what I’m about to, save she’s been gone for far too long. I’m certain something terrible has befallen her.”
* * *
Her fear was so strong that Aiden’s heart did a tumble in his chest. “Where did she go, Muirne?”
“Into the tunnels,” she whispered. “But I searched for her, and there was no sign. It’s as if she just vanished.”
The tunnels? Aiden’s breath caught in his chest. Dear God. Was it possible she’d discovered the tomb and become trapped inside? He tore out of the room and raced across the close. Diving into the tunnel, he jogged down the narrow corridor to the cave, leapt over the flour sacks, and turned the winch. When it was locked into place, he ran for the end of the tunnel and pushed at the great granite slab.
But it would open only partway. Something was blocking its movement.
