My Wee Mate

6 - Mystery Man

Ailsa

I stealthily approach the dreaded door of my nightmares. I fiddle with the rusted key between my fingers, placing my flickering lantern at my feet. It reflects pretty, orange shapes all along the walls and ceiling high above.

It makes my shadow massive, somehow making me feel smaller than I already am.

Of course, this stunt seemed like a good idea earlier, but now I'm second-guessing everything. Even after all the trouble I went through to sneak into my father's quarters and found his hidden, backup key. There were several keys at the bottom of his drawer, but I knew choosing the one that looked the most neglected was my best bet. I can only rely on my confidence that it's the one.

I should be ecstatic, as excited as I was when I found the key and slipped it under my pillow.

But now, well now I'm standing in front of the big wooden door with my bottom lip between my teeth and contemplating tucking my tail and scampering off to bed. I'm suddenly remembering all the years I spent fearing this stupid dungeon and all its mysteries and rumors. When I was little the boys my age would tease me about how I couldn't even go near the entrance.

To be fair, I knew the long history of prisoners that had been locked up tight under our very feet. I thought if I passed the door a ghost would slip through the crack under the door and follow me to my room.

It didn't help that. My father encouraged my fears by telling me bedtime stories of horrendous wars. Hearing of the men slaughtered in our castle didn't exactly inspire sleep.

I shake my head at my own thoughts. I risked so much to be here. I snuck out of my bed in the middle of the night. I was half afraid that Gentry was sitting outside of my room with her ear pressed to the wall. Luckily for me, she wasn't.

She was likely too tired after I begged her to read me some chapters from the mountain of books that she brought me. Poor Gentry. I will have to find a way to repay her.

Unlike my retched father, my maid knows how to spin a story with her tongue so well that I nearly fell asleep. Instead, I had to fake it. I forced my eyes closed and tried to make my breath as even as possible.

She eventually stopped reading, walked over to my bedside, and kissed me on the forehead. After she blew out the candles and left, it was just a waiting game to make my escape.

I swallow my guilt over fooling my angel of a maid, and I finally stick the key in the lock. I was right. It immediately slides in. I picked the right key.

I click it to the left, and a tell-tale clank of it being unlocked. I glance around again, paranoid that someone will catch me. The hall is completely silent, void of any people at this late hour. No one is out past midnight. More than half of the men are off sleeping off their ale by now.

I know I can get myself into a lot of trouble doing this, but my father's cross is very important to him. I can see his eyes glimmering in approval the minute I hand over the necklace. There isn't a thing I wouldn't give up to have any hint of pride cross his face when he looks at me.

Smiling to myself, I swing the door open.

I slip the key into my apron pocket.

The door is heavy as I push it open, but I manage to get it out of the way quietly, plucking my oil lamp from the ground to light my way down the pitch-black staircase.

Cobblestone stairs lead into the chilly, abandoned dungeons. I gulp, taking my first step into the unknown.

I squint down at the steps each time I put a foot forward, scanning for the golden chain, but nothing shines back at me from the dim light. No glint, no sparkle, no cross. My brows furrow in concentration, and I nibble on my bottom lip. I use my hand to lean against the cold, stone walls.