Once Upon a Castle - Jill Gregory [97]
Honora’s voice seemed to roll in waves over Felicity, loud, then soft, then loud again. “You can scream as much as you please in this place, and no one will ever hear. How apt. The Falcon family mausoleum. In a few weeks, when we return, it will be a simple matter to dispose of your body in one of the crypts.”
Felicity tried to speak, to implore them not to leave her. But her throat was so constricted, she couldn’t manage more than a small moan. She heard the sound of their footsteps, and the scrape of the heavy door. Shared laughter trilled. Then there was only silence.
The blackness was impenetrable, like a shroud. Holding her hand in front of her face, Felicity bit back a cry when she couldn’t see it. So this, then, was her fate. She would die, alone, in the Falcon mausoleum. No one would mourn her. Nor would anyone ever find her. She would disappear without a trace. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away. She must not allow herself to give in to grief. Until her last breath was drawn, she would fight. Somehow.
She groped blindly, in search of any means of escape. She shuddered when her hands tangled in a spiderweb and she felt the rush of insects across her arms. It took several minutes before she could stop the trembling. Then, forcing herself to move on, she scraped her knuckles over the sharp edges of stone and realized she was standing before a crypt.
As she stood there, a soft glow seemed to radiate from the stone. She watched in fascination as the glow became a halo of light shimmering around the figure of a man.
“Gareth. Oh, Gareth, thank heaven.”
He gathered her into an embrace and she hugged him fiercely, pressing her lips to his throat. He could hear the tears in her voice as she whispered fiercely, “Honora and Ian left me here to die. I thought…I thought this time they’d won.”
Against a tangle of hair at her temple he muttered, “You may be right, love.”
She lifted her head to peer at him. His image blurred and faded. And then it struck her. There was no heat in his touch. No strength in his embrace.
“Oh, Gareth. What are you saying?”
“My powers…are diminished. That is the price exacted.”
She touched a hand to his cheek and felt the chill. “You knew. Before we loved.”
He nodded.
“Then why…?”
“Loving you was worth any price.”
“But why are you here?” Even as she spoke, she knew the answer with chilling clarity. Over his shoulder she could read the inscription on the crypt. Gareth, First Lord of Falcon’s Lair. “Oh, my love. You were here, all alone in the darkness, waiting to…”
They stood together, their breathing shallow, their thoughts scattered.
When she finally spoke, Felicity’s tone was resigned. “At least you won’t be alone now. Nor will I. We’ll face our fate together.”
“No.” He held her a little away, his eyes hot and fierce. “This is not to be your fate. I won’t allow you to give up.”
“But you said yourself that your powers have diminished, and I have none at all.”
“You forget the power of love.” He turned away, concentrating all his energy on the heavy door that barred their way.
As Felicity watched in amazement, a sound, like that of a terrible rushing wind, sent the door scraping open. Gareth caught her hand and led her up the steps and into the chill night air. Jagged slashes of lightning rent the heavens, and thunder shook the very ground as, together, they sprinted the distance to the castle. One look from Gareth sent the door creaking open on its hinges. They raced up the stairs and stopped short at Lord Falcon’s room.
Ian and Honora were standing beside the old lord’s bed. In Ian’s hand was a vial of poison. His eyes glinted with hatred as he turned to Felicity.
“How did you escape? And who is this stranger?”
Felicity realized that Gareth, in his diminished state, was no longer invisible.
“I am Gareth, First Lord of Falcon’s Lair,” he cried in a voice that rang with authority. “I command you to step away