Through the trees, I get a better look at the outer wall. It towers over our four-story castle, with round turrets that rise up at each corner. Trees line the outer perimeter and create a tall canopy, just like in our inner courtyards. I wonder how many people have tried to climb their way out of here over the years. I’m sure there is some sort of trap at the top of that wall, and from that height, there’s no way you wouldn’t get seriously injured if you fell from it.

Layla stands up and opens the door an inch. She nods and we follow her through. And to my surprise, I find myself in a huge kitchen with an arched ceiling crossed with wooden beams. Shelves along the walls are filled with hundreds of jars of spices and stacked plates. Pots of every size hang from iron hooks, while rolling pins and serving platters are left out on a long table to be used for tomorrow’s cooking. The kitchen has always been my favorite room in every house, and this one looks like it was plucked from a fairy tale.

The sound of a key sliding into a lock across the room snaps me out of my awestruck moment. I run after Ash and Layla to a door against the right wall. Layla lifts the latch and we practically dive into the dark room.

Layla eases our door closed just as we hear the outside one swing open. Ash pushes us all flat against the wall. My shoulders are pressed between his and Layla’s. It’s significantly colder in here than outdoors, and I’m sure that if there were any light my breath would be visible. I inhale deeply to slow my heart and anchor my feet in a position where my weight won’t shift.

The latch on the door lifts and I hold my breath, not daring to move a millimeter. Dim light spills into the room, and so does an ominously long shadow of a very muscular guard. If he pushes the door open too far, he’ll hit Layla, and if he comes in past the door, he’ll see Ash for sure.

He moves forward, his candle illuminating the room, and I find it nearly impossible to believe that he doesn’t hear my heart. Light flickers off the shelves of cloth-covered ceramic pots. But just as quickly as it appeared, the light diminishes, and the door closes, casting us back into darkness.

Layla was not kidding when she said we’d barely have a second to spare. If she hadn’t opened a single lock fast enough or if there had been even a moment’s delay somewhere, we would have been screwed.

Ash’s shoulder pulls away from mine as the outside door closes and locks. I exhale like I’m a deflating balloon. To my left, Layla strikes a match and lights a candle.

Ash heads for what looks like an oversized wooden armoire, with four square doors and one tall, narrow one. My heart thuds. The cold temperature…Oh, please no. I shake my head, like maybe I can convince Ash by telepathy not to open the tall compartment. Next to the armoire is a long table, and I feel my eyes bulging as I take in two sets of what look like bloody clothes and shoes and a stack of antique hospital tools.