Page 33 of Night of the Witch
“Steady,” he says, gruff and low.
I shake him off and keep walking. Bertram glances back, once, and I catch a flash of discomfort on his face.
He doesn’t like being in this tunnel either.Heisn’t walking to imprisonment and death, but still, I revel in knowing my captors are sharing even a small part of my misery.
A tunnel branches from our main one. As we cross the intersection, I feel a gust of wind from somewhere to the left. I shiver in the chill of it. Bertram shivers, too, and I get the feeling it’s more from fear.
“What is that?” Johann asks from the rear.
“Ventilation,” the kapitän says. “Keep going, Bertram.”
Bertram yanks my chain, and I stumble two quick steps. But another breeze blows, and he glances back at the kapitän questioningly.
Bertram’s eyes go to me, thin with accusation.
Does he blame me for a cold wind? What power I hold over this man. If only I could use it.
I keep walking, head down, not wanting to instigate Bertram at all—
The kapitän’s sharp cry is the only warning before the torch hisses out into nothingness.
Sinking, consuming darkness rushes around me, choking, thick. I see nothing, eyes strained wide in fruitless searching, breathing stunted as every muscle in my body goes rigid.
“What happened? Where’s the light?” Johann is frantic, his tone high and grating.
“The witch bespelled the wind!” the kapitän snaps back. “Bertram—”
Arms clamp around my body. A scream builds in my chest, but a thick hand plants over my lips, holding me silent as the weight around me pivots sharply to the left, yanking me hard.
Feet splash. “I’ve lost her!” Bertram’s voice from ahead rings against the walls. And if he’s not holding me, then—
I buck, manacled hands going up to grab the kapitän’s arms, but I can’t pry him off—and to what end, anyway? Cold sweat washes down my body as I feel his muscles tense around me, keeping me flush to his front, his limbs like stone, encasing me.
“The witch ran off!” the kapitän says like he isn’t holding me in his arms. “She can’t be far—Bertram, go on ahead; it’s a straight shot to the Porta Nigra from here, so if she went that way, she’ll end up nowhere good. Johann, back to the entrance—let nothing out, you hear me? I’ll search these side tunnels.Go!”
The booming shout rings in my ears, dizzying me. I long for numbness again, but fear rears up, a relentless hand snaking around my chest, squeezing the air from my lungs in a cool, quick rush that condenses against the kapitän’s palm.
What is happening?
Why did helie?
Footsteps part in stomping rushes—Bertram racing ahead, Johann going back the way we came. The kapitän holds me motionless for one second, two, three—
Then he drags me back a few paces, to where the tunnel split. Or, at least, I think that’s where we go—I still see nothing, but clearly he knows the route even without light.
My skin prickles with terror. A tight winding of dread, my body feeling too exposed, too soft.
I’m alone in an underground tunnel with a hexenjäger kapitän, and no one on earth knows he has me.
You said no one would touch me, I think, but I can’t get the words to form.You said you weren’t brutes.
I can’t stifle my cry as he shifts me higher against him, his hand slipping from my mouth.
“Don’t make asound,” he hisses into my ear.
I would if I thought that would improve my situation at all—but who would come running? More hexenjägers?
One hexenjäger, I can handle.
