The Psychic Legacy

Chapter 12: Cold

We fell and fell through the darkness. This wasn't like the first time I had been pulled into Matilda's shadow, where I was dropped into the floating dark; instead it was like we were falling through the Earth itself, headed God knows where. Falling forever.

Then, as quickly as the darkness had swallowed us up, it spit us out. Luc twisted away just in time to avoid landing on top of me, but we still landed hard. My head bounced against the hard cold floor. Bright spots filled my vision, half-blinding me.

"Where... are we?" I mumbled.

"Some kind of prison cell," Luc said, his voice taut. He didn't seem to be as disoriented as I was. I could hear him moving around, his rough footsteps echoing off the walls.

I could only believe him as I waited for the spots to fade from my sight. I fumbled along the floor. It was made of rough stone, the uneven shapes cold under my fingers. I felt along until I reached the edge of the room, my hands meeting the wall which was also made of stone. The air smelt damp, touched with just a tinge of metal.

Luc's footsteps continued to crunch as they moved across the floor. He was pacing.

"Are you okay?" I asked him.

Luc gave a strange laugh, a sound I had never heard from him before. It was wild... unhinged. "As well as I can be, all things considered."

All things considered...

I debated trying to stand, but I could still barely see.

Suddenly Luc's footsteps were much closer. He crouched down beside me. Through the spots, I watched as his eyes traced the features of my face. He was looking at me but... he wasn't seeing me. Though he was inches away, he felt very far away.

"How are you?" he asked.

"Fine," I said, pushing away from him. I tried to get to my feet, but my head swam and my knees wobbled. I stumbled sideways—

Luc caught my elbow and guided me to a simple wooden bench. He set me down and immediately dropped my elbow and stepped back.

"How are you, Rachel?" he asked again. "Really?"

His question was insulting. How the fuck do you think I am?

I closed my eyes, the spots flashing on the back of my eyelids. It was making me feel dizzy... I didn't even know where to start. I didn't want to start. "Like I said, I'm fine. What about you?" I snapped, turning to shoot a half-blind glare at him. "How are you?"

His shoulders sank and, for a second, he looked like the man I knew again. Then he blinked and his face hardened once again. "Fine."

"Great to hear," I said, sinking back. The stone wall at my back was cold. It felt good against my throbbing head so I leaned into it, turning to press my forehead against it.

Luc began pacing again. I let his steps become background noise.

Finally the spots began to fade and I was able to take a look at the room for myself. Luc had been right—the room was definitely a cell, a simple round room made entirely of stone, with a single metal door molded to the curve of the wall, and a small, narrow window opposite. Luc was striding between the two, back and forth, back and forth.

This place looked more medieval than modern. There was nothing in this city that could be so old. Were we even in the same country? Or had Matilda's shadow tossed us across the Atlantic and into the tower of some ancient castle?

"How're we going to get out of here?"

"We're not," Luc said, turning sharply to start another pass of the room.