The City on the Edge
Twenty-three

Ronnie expected to run in the guards on the stairs, but curiously, there were none stationed outside the dungeon. At the top of the stairs, Ronnie kicked the door open. It swung and banged into the wall loudly. No one occupied the kitchen, the first bit of luck for Ronnie. Through the windows, the beautiful mix of orange and violet heralded the coming sunset, but Ronnie had no time to appreciate the view.

She tried to keep quiet as she lead Anya through the halls. The shackle on her wrist jangled with each step and Ronnie hoped that no one would come investigate the sound. Anya’s weight became heavier and heavier with each passing minute as she fell deeper into unconsciousness. The surge of adrenaline wore off, leaving Ronnie ready to drop where she stood. She jostled Anya in an attempt to keep her lucid, but she only received a tired groan in response.

Anya’s forehead shone with beads of sweat but when Ronnie placed a hand to her skin, she felt cold. Too cold. Ronnie had a sudden vivid image of her freezing solid as she took in the sight of Anya’s once brown skin turning grey.

Voices filtered into the hall, startling her and spurring her into action. Ronnie pulled Anya through the doors nearest her, hoping no one was on the other side. Though the room was dark, she immediately recognized as the dining room, thankfully empty this time. Gently, Ronnie set Anya against the wall and slowly closed the door, not wanting to make any more noise.

She left the door open just a crack so she could peer out into the hall. Heavy steps were coming toward them. Ronnie kept the loose cuff in her hand, afraid it might jangle and clink on the chain, and held her breath as two uniformed guards stomped past the dining room. She listened to their footsteps, trying to measure the distance as they grew fainter and when she couldn’t hear them anymore, she allowed herself to breathe.

Anya coughed, hacking up more of the awful green slime. Ronnie sank down next to her, holding her up and stroking a soothing hand down her back. Even without her shifter ears, Ronnie could hear Anya’s rasping struggle to breathe.

“Don’t worry, Anya. We’re getting out of here. We’ll find Malik and Lorna and we’ll go home.” Ronnie reached out and carded her fingers through Anya’s damp hair, just like Lorna did for her when she wasn’t feeling well. When she pulled her hand away, clumps of black hair remained tangled around her fingers. Disturbed, Ronnie shook her hand wildly, flinging the loose hairs across the floor. The bare patch on Anya’s scalp oozed and Ronnie bit her lip, a flash of pain stinging the sore cut and grounding her.

What could she do to help? Anya needed a healer. Now. Maybe if she could get to Lorna or Malik they could-

EEEEEE. EEEEE. EEEEE.

A resounding noise blared through the manor so loudly it rattled the china in the cabinets and shook the paintings on the walls. Ronnie swore she could feel the floor trembling beneath her feet.

An alarm, much like the one in the Edge for emergencies. Sloan must have finally made it out of the dungeon. Their chances of getting out of the manor without being seen just dropped by half.

The manor suddenly erupted into action. Ronnie knew the White Guard were falling into formations, taking orders from Sloan to find them. Guards hustled through the halls, shouting orders back and forth. Doors slammed one after another and it dawned on Ronnie that they were searching the manor room by room.

Panicked, she looked around the dining room. They needed to hide. It would be impossible to sneak them back out into the hall with the alarm sending the White Guard scurrying around. They’d be spotted in no time.

Unfortunately, the dining room, lavish as it was, left no place for hiding. Ronnie wondered if she could lay Anya beneath the table. The white tablecloth nearly touched the floor, it might hide her. But the guards would certainly look underneath, discovering Anya exposed and vulnerable.

Ronnie darted to the windows. Maybe she could get Anya out the window? She didn’t want to leave without Malik and Lorna, but Anya needed immediate help. Malik would understand and probably demand that she help Anya first. His little sister was his entire world. Could she come back for them later? What if they were in the same position Anya had been in, submerged in that foul liquid? Sloan was obviously keeping witches for his own twisted needs. According to him, he’d only been able to turn witches into ghouls. The thought of Malik and Lorna facing the same fate as Anya churned her stomach.

A look out of windows quickly dashed whatever hopes Ronnie had for an escape when she saw the White Guard patrolling the grounds in increased numbers. Lines of them moved across the lawn with swords at their waists and rifles across their backs. The iron fence just past the patrols separated the grounds from the thick woods that surrounded the manor. If she could somehow get to the fence, she could get Anya to safety. The guards would have a difficult time tracking them in the forest.

A door in the hall banged open. A voice shouted something but Ronnie couldn’t make it out. With the White Guard almost on top of her, she was out of time. Now or never.

“Anya, come on.” Ronnie shook her but she didn’t move. Her head lolled to the side and her mouth drooped open, exposing a tongue that had turned black. “Anya!” Ronnie pressed to fingers to the side of her neck. She felt a soft pulse thrum against the pads of her fingers, weak but at least it was there.

The rumble of footsteps grew louder, pausing just outside the dining room doors. Voices spoke in hushed and muffled tones. Time was up.

Ronnie hefted Anya up into her arms. Her entire body protested the extra weight but she ignored it and carried Anya over to the windows. She fumbled awkwardly for the latch and pushed the window open. It wasn’t too much of a drop. She could lower Anya down without hurting her.

Ronnie had one leg over the window sill with Anya across her lap when the dining room door swung open. Ronnie tensed, ready to drop Anya outside and leap out window.

“Veronica!”

She turned her head to the frantic speaker and sagged into the welcome rush of relief when she saw who it was.

“Sebastian.” It didn’t matter to her why he was there or even how he found her. All she cared about was that she needed help and finally someone arrived to offer some.

Sebastian hurried into the dining room with quick steps. Behind him, a girl closed the doors and stood by them, peering out into the hall. Ronnie recognized her- the vampire girl that had served Sloan and Blackburn lunch earlier. She looked over at Ronnie and smiled before turning her attention back to the hall. When Sebastian reached her, he held out his arms and helped her gently lower Anya to the floor.

“What happened to her?” he asked. He looked at Ronnie and paled, his eyes wide when he saw her face and the wound on her hand from where the shackle had peeled away her skin. “What happened to you?” He reached out and swiped a thumb over her bottom lip where it had split. His thumb came away stained red and Ronnie swiped her tongue over the cut, tasting blood. She thought it had stopped bleeding.

“Sloan happened. We need to get her out of here. She needs a healer. I think-” Ronnie sucked in a deep breath. “I think she’s dying.”

Sebastian frowned and stared down at Anya’s prone form. “I don’t think she’ll last if we drop her out of a window. She looks so…fragile.”

“I’m a little desperate,” Ronnie defended.

“I can get her to a healer. Varice knows where Sloan is keeping the other witches.” Sebastian nodded at the vampire girl.

“What?” Surprise and hope fluttered in her chest. “You found them?”

Sebastian smiled at her. “I told you I was going to help you. Finding your friends was step one. I had planned on getting you out of your cell later but it seems Sloan beat me to it.” Sebastian slid his arms beneath Anya and lifted her up. He grunted from the effort and Ronnie reached out help, but he stopped her. “It’s okay. I’ve got her. No offense, but you look like you’re about to drop. You could probably use the break.”

Ronnie was always willing to do what it took for her family, but she wouldn’t deny that Sebastian was right. Her entire body throbbed like one big bruise and each step shot a wave of fresh pain through her muscles. If he could carry Anya, she’d let him.

“I don’t suppose you have a key for this?” She held up the hand that still had a shackle clamped around the wrist. The other side swung loosely back and forth.

“Sorry, but no. I don’t.”

Ronnie sighed and dropped her hand. “So, where are we going?”

Varice beckoned them over. “To the south wing. Sloan keeps the witches there in a room similar to the dungeon on the north side. The one you were in.”

“You know about that dungeon?” Ronnie asked.

Varice grimaced. “Who do you think has to clean out the cells?”

“How are we going to get to the other side of the manor? The halls must be filled with guardsmen now.”

“They are,” Varice said with a smile, “but we aren’t going though the halls. We’re going behind them.”

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