Page 106 of A Devilish Element
“Think, Eliza. Think.”
There had been two other doors within that room. That meant potentially two other exits. As neither led onto this landing, it was reasonable to assume there was perhaps another, and a second stair. With no time to lose, she tore off in search of it, muttering a prayer under her breath as she ran.
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Jem
Instinct sent Jem across the courtyard to the base of the Lady’s Tower. He knew that whatever was occurring above him against the backdrop of the night sky, he would never get there in time if he followed the internal route Betsy had described.
At ground level, the tower seemed little more than a pitted ruin, an old gate the only barrier to his entry. It gave to a sound kick that set it clanging against the stonework. Within the shell of the east wing, the layout was confusing. The roof was missing in several places, and many of the floors had fallen through, meaning he could see through to the night sky. In a few areas, great supporting timbers slouched at alarming angles, as if likely to drop without notice and spear him through.
Interestingly, it was the upper portions that seemed to have survived best. The cap house at the top of the tallest tower seemed entirely sound. A fraction lower, he could see sections of corridor nestled between the foot thick stonework.
Beneath one such section, Jem found an open stairwell. The steps were cracked and weathered, slimy with moss, and infested with tenacious weeds that grew between the pointing. Still, it was a way up, and he took it as far as it would take him.
Three storeys up, the stairwell deposited him on a landing open to the elements. The wall of the tower stretched to the side of him, while an internal passageway petered out after a few feet. His only option seemed to be to backtrack or scale the outer wall like some mediaeval invader.
“Jem!”
He turned his head and found Eliza leaning out of a window arch, one leg already over the mantel. There was little more than a sheer drop below her. One could only assume shedidmean to scale the walls.
“Go back,” he urged, terrified by her fearlessness.
“The door’s bolted on the inside. I can’t get in, and Mrs Honeyfield has Jane. If I go up, I can shimmy in through that garderobe.”
She was both insane and a genius. He adored her even as he despaired.
“It’s too dangerous.”
“I have to get to her,” she retaliated.
Of course, no risk was too big.
“Then at least let me climb.” He was better situated.
She drew her mouth into a mutinous pucker that only eased when he pointed out the lack of voluminous skirts to hamper his footing.
“Trust me, Eliza.”
Of course, she didn’t trust him with such a precious thing as her friend’s safety. Men let her down, especially when it mattered. He’d let her down. And a second chance was merely a second chance of being disappointed.
“Look, can you get to there?” He pointed to a particular window. “You’ll be able to guide my handholds from there.”
“I don’t know. I don’t think… I don’t like this.”
Damn her, she was looking for toeholds.
Jem wasn’t much for the prospect of climbing either, but he’d rather risk his neck than hers, and he definitely wasn’t ready to stand back and watch her fall to her death.
“Please, Eliza. I’m closer.” He was also taller, and likely a more experienced climber.
He took the fact she disappeared back inside as proof of her agreement.
Jem found purchase for his hands amidst the crumbling pointing. He did not look down. This was not the worst surface he’d ever climbed, though trees were his more usual choice. Thank God for the countless misspent summers spent tramping the countryside and scrumping apples with his cousins. It meant his muscles recalled how best to balance his weight, and his arms didn’t scream too loudly over the effort of clinging on by his fingertips.
“Go right,” Eliza yelled, leading him to assume she’d made it to the spot he’d indicated. He pointedly didn’t turn his head to look. Her instruction was completely counterintuitive, as the balcony lay to his left.
“I can see them,” he said, raising his left hand. Not very well, only as occasional glimpses between the crenulations and not enough to determine which silhouette was which.
