The Attic (Completed)

Chapter 26

Ian wiped the blood from his face with his sleeve. The cut had stopped bleeding but still burned. It wouldn't be long before the pain subsided though and the wound healed.

Lily's face was pallid as she watched him, her eyes haunted. Did she believe him? He longed to pick her up in his arms, to cradle her against him. If he didn't fear for her life, he would've killed Kurik by now. But he had to figure out how to get Mike and his pistol out of the picture first.

Kurik motioned toward the ladder with a flick of his hand. "Get a move on, brother. Slaveling, follow. Anyone tries anything, you shoot."

Ian led the troop to the west wing in silence, his feet like lead. If his brother got what he wanted, he'd kill Lily. There was no doubt about that. And Ian's own death wouldn't be so quick. His father would first make him pay for all those years of imprisonment.

The west wing hallway was dark, despite the drape-less windows. Beads of rain on the glass further marred the bit of daylight coming in. The floor was coated in dust for the most part but a scuffle of footprints scattered it in trails from one room to the next. He frowned. Had Lily been up here recently? Or Mike? The thought of Lily accidentally stumbling upon Morack's prison sent a shiver up his spine.

"Almost there," he mumbled reluctantly, running his fingers along the length of his cheek. The edges of the cut were pulling together and the bleeding had ceased. He didn't want to admit defeat, but was losing hope by the second. He was confident he could kill Kurik—but if Morack was set free, the whole earth would be destroyed.

He led them into a room at the end of the hall and pushed a sheet-covered wardrobe away from an inner wall, revealing a pair of doors hidden behind it with a molded design of golden leaves; the beauty of which was dulled and marred by dust and cobwebs.

Placing a hand on each door, he gave a firm push and they swung open, revealing a room swathed in shadows.

Two windows with closed drapes were on the exterior wall of a long and narrow room. Rain smattered against the glass with a forceful gust of wind. The contents of the room were indiscernible.

Ian stepped inside and turned a dimmer to full power and the room came to life. The walls were covered in Cordova leather, dozens of candlelights from a crystal chandelier reflecting off the sahara-gold carpeting. He blinked, eyes adjusting to the light. Mike stepped in behind him, followed by Kurik and Lily. No one spoke.

All the furniture was covered in sheets but Ian couldn't help remembering the way it used to be as a young boy and teen. The days when he sat on a loveseat across from Auguste in his favorite armchair, slippered feet on a footstool as he smoked a pipe. In front of the lancet windows was a grand piano, and nearby an antique billiard table. Hannah often played show tunes on the piano when they had a game. If only those days hadn't come to a screeching halt: when Morack crossed over and was locked away. Just like that, the room had been sequestered permanently.

Ian stood staring beyond the sheeted billiard table. The wall behind it was covered in a tapestry. He went to it and pulled the tapestry up and out of the way. Behind it was a hidden archway revealing a short hallway beyond with a plain wooden door at the end of it.

"Is that it?" Kurik asked.

"Yes," he said, refusing to look at his brother. "He's in there."

A weight settled on his shoulders, so heavy it threatened to push him down through the floor. The breath left his lungs as Kurik stepped around him, dragging Lily with him like a ragdoll as she struggled to keep her footing.

"I can't believe I've finally found him—" Kurik cried, his body fairly shaking with excitement.

A click sounded behind Ian and the cold muzzle of a pistol touched his neck. "Go on then, get going," Mike said in a flat tone.