Chapter 8

Azriel was taken aback, her grip slipping, and she began to tumble. Rhema swiftly caught her just before she could plunge into the well's depths.

"Thank you," she stammered, gratitude washing over her as her feet touched solid ground, and Rhema released her.

Azriel's thoughts immediately shifted to Maylie—she needed to rescue her friend. While racing through the passageway, she had devised a daring and perilous plan, but it was the only one that had come to mind.

"Azriel."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Rhema. I must run now…"

Rhema's gaze swept over her, taking in the dirt and cobwebs clinging to her, her face marred with unknown stains, and her bloodied calf. His brow furrowed slightly, and the air around them seemed to grow taut, like a pulled string.

In a hushed voice, Rhema inquired, "Can I assist you?"

Desperate for help, Azriel couldn't immediately respond. Something stirred within her, as if her very blood was coursing through her entire body.

This question is different from the others the enigmatic wizard has asked. My answer could change everything. But how? For better or worse?

Azriel struggled to find words in response to the question swirling in her mind. Just as she was about to unlock buried memories, a faint girl's scream pierced the air, diverting her thoughts.

"I'm terribly sorry, but I have to go. I will return the shoes you gave me, so…"

Azriel rambled and abruptly trailed off as she sprinted in the direction of the castle.

She burst through the rear entrance and entered the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of oil and stuffing a handful of matches into her pocket.

She dashed through the hall, knowing that the dungeon stairs were on the opposite side, across the castle's central lobby. Just as she was about to turn the corner after crossing the lobby, a hand seized her shoulder.

"Eeek!"

Azriel nearly dropped the oil bottle, managing to cling to it just in time. She glanced back to find Damon Colte, his face flushed.

"That brute isn't good enough for you. Look at you, still full of energy."

Damon's voice dripped with sarcasm as he grabbed the back of her dress. Every time he spoke, the overpowering scent of alcohol wafted from him.

"You were mine, mine! I was working hard to have you, and then that middle-aged man…"

Muttering like a madman, he pressed Azriel against the wall, tearing her shirt and exposing her collarbone. His hands roamed her delicate neck like a snake's tongue.

Fear gripped Azriel as she looked into Damon's bloodshot eyes. Then, suddenly, a white spark ignited. Lightning pierced the night sky, briefly illuminating her buried memories. Thunder followed, booming throughout the surroundings.

"Let go!" Azriel screamed, shoving Damon away. "Let go of me!"

"You like it too, don't you? I'm much better than that monster. Why do you live like this with such a pretty face? I'll treat you right… Aaaarrghh!"

Azriel swung the oil bottle with all her might, striking Damon's head as the bottle's edge had connected with his temple. He staggered, blood oozing through his fingers as he clutched his head.

Still clutching the bloodied bottle of oil, Azriel hesitatingly backed away. Damon uttered something through gritted teeth, but his words were drowned out by the thunder's roar.

He reached for her, but stumbled and eventually collapsed, unconscious. Gasping for breath, Azriel stared at Damon's motionless form before turning and sprinting away.

Finally reaching the entrance to the dungeon, Azriel flung the door open. Maylie had to be close; Azriel could hear the sound of whipping from below.

She quickly located Maylie and, with half of the oil bottle, doused a nearby tapestry hanging near the entrance. Then, she descended the stairs halfway and sprinkled the remaining oil. Discarding the empty bottle, she pulled out the matches, ignited the tapestry, and tossed a lit match onto the oil-soaked floor below.

"Fire!" Azriel screamed.

Her scream reverberated through the basement, followed by another thunderous boom of rolling thunder. Rain began to pour down outside the window.

Azriel immediately turned around at the sound of her scream, her eyes fixed on the scene unfolding through the door from inside a room situated opposite the entrance to the basement. The flames from the tapestry had now spread to the carpet.

Underneath the staircase, she heard a thud, as if something had collapsed, followed by hurried footsteps ascending the stairs. The servant who had been wielding the whip emerged at the entrance to the dungeon, carrying a limp Deborah in his arms.

Maylie, however, was nowhere to be seen; they appeared to have abandoned her.

The fire, having reached the carpet, had transformed one side of the hall into a raging inferno.

The servant, upon witnessing the extent of the blaze, paled and rushed to the section of the hall that remained untouched by the flames. It wouldn't be long before a crowd gathered. As soon as their backs disappeared around the corner, Azriel dashed downstairs.

The fire followed the path of the spilled oil, and the heat was nearly overwhelming. Fortunately, the underground walls were constructed of stone, making it relatively safe to navigate. She soon spotted an open dungeon cell and hurried inside.

"Maylie!"

Maylie was hunched over, but fortunately, she wasn't restrained.

"Maylie!" Azriel exclaimed, gently shaking Maylie's blood-covered shoulder and lifting her up with care. "Maylie! It's me. Are you awake? Are you all right?"

Maylie groaned and opened her swollen eyes. "Az… riel?"

"Let's get you out of here first."

Maylie struggled to maintain her balance. Azriel supported some of her weight on her own back and began making her way toward the stairs, stumbling repeatedly.

Her body was already weakened, and she couldn't move swiftly while assisting the taller Maylie. She was drenched in sweat and Maylie's blood. The wounds on her back and calf continued to bleed from the pressure, and the heat from the fire felt suffocating. She was fortunate that her chronic cough hadn't returned.

With every ounce of her strength, she ascended the stairs. Avoiding the side of the hallway engulfed in flames, she headed in the opposite direction and heard the sound of approaching footsteps.

Confused, she glanced around and entered the room across from where she had been hiding earlier, a room filled with winter rugs, curtains, carpets, and other furnishings. She propped Maylie, who had fallen unconscious, against stacks of wool rugs. People were bustling outside, shouting about the fire.

Azriel locked the door and approached the window, its curtains drawn shut.

When she opened the curtains and peered outside, she saw torrential rain cascading down. Occasional lightning illuminated the surroundings in stark white. Lamplights bobbed busily in the rain.

The guards must have been searching for intruders following news of the castle fire. Lamplights were clustered heavily near the rear entrance as well.

I need to return to the secret passage.

Despite her resolve, Azriel suddenly felt overwhelmed. She could easily escape on her own since she was alone, but what about Maylie? Maylie had a family who couldn't be moved so easily. She clenched her teeth.

"If we have money, we'll find a way," she muttered to herself. "I should escape with Maylie's entire family. If I can rent a large carriage…"

She had made up her mind. Azriel returned to Maylie, shaking her shoulder once more.

"Maylie, Maylie. Wake up for a moment. Where did you hide the other glass slipper? We need it to escape together."

Maylie blinked her eyes drowsily. Only after Azriel pressed her softly did she manage to respond.

"In the lobby… among the armor, decorations… right side, second one… inside the helmet…"

Maylie had been responsible for cleaning the decorative armor on display in the castle's lobby.

She hid it in a familiar place.

She nodded and covered Maylie with a curtain she had taken from the window to keep her hidden from anyone entering the room.

"Rest here for a while. Hang on just a bit longer. I'll find the glass slipper, and then we can escape together."

After concealing Maylie, Azriel climbed out of the window and descended the wall. The pouring rain soaked her entire body, causing her physical discomfort. Soon, she felt chilled to the bone.

She staggered toward the rear entrance near the lobby. Fortunately, there was some distance between the lobby and the blazing fire. In the quiet lobby, she counted the suits of armor. Second from the right.

Stepping onto the knee of one of the suits, she reached up and opened the helmet. Inside the dark, iron casing gleamed a crystal-clear glass slipper. Azriel carefully placed it inside the inner pocket of her apron.

By the time Azriel returned to Maylie, the fire had been extinguished. As she climbed back through the open window, she heard Deborah's shrill scream.

"The girl's disappeared! Find her immediately! She couldn't have gone far!"

There was no time for Azriel to catch her breath. She ignored her trembling body and hastily pulled aside the curtain she had set up.

"Maylie, wake up. Maylie?"

Maylie appeared to be completely unconscious, her eyes remaining shut no matter how many times Azriel shook her.

Azriel wrapped her in a plush rug and carefully rolled her out of the window. Thankfully, they were on the ground floor, and the window was low enough to make this possible. The rug became cumbersome after getting soaked in rain, and Azriel struggled to summon the strength to lift it.

As soon as she managed to get through the window, she discarded the heavy rug and hoisted Maylie onto her back. Her back ached, and her legs wobbled, but she pressed on. She had to.

Throughout the once quiet Colte Castle, lights flickered to life. Shadows of people hurrying about were visible through the windows. Azriel clung to the wall for cover and moved cautiously. Her rain-soaked hair kept sticking to her face. Azriel found solace only in the occasional, faint sound of Maylie's breathing.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she reached the well. Setting Maylie down beside it, she took a moment to catch her breath. Although exhaustion weighed her down, she knew she had to get herself and Maylie into the secret passage before she could rest. Peering into the well to grasp the rope, she was met with despair.

"No… Water has…"

Due to the sudden and heavy rain, the well was filling rapidly with water. Azriel had assumed there might be a mechanism to drain the water since the secret passage was situated there. However, when she gazed down at the flooded well, she felt a wave of hopelessness wash over her.

Wiping the rain from her eyes with the back of her hand, she desperately thought.

"What should I do now? Think, Azriel Esthera. It's not just about saving yourself; you must save Maylie too." Azriel paused, deep in thought. "That passage… there was a slight incline at the beginning. Perhaps if I can go underwater and enter it, there might not be any water inside."

Suddenly, a horrifying voice shattered her concentration.

"…You, woman, I've got you!"

Startled, Azriel whirled around to confront the menacing voice.