“He said ’twas to the left of the fireplace. A stone would move under pressure and the wall would open.”

“Who said?”

He opened his mouth as if to answer, then caught himself and turned on her sharply. “Very clever, my lady, but I think I shall keep that information to myself.”

He continued his search then, and Iliana glanced at Janna. She wanted somehow to prepare her for an escape attempt, but the other woman was staring wide-eyed at their captor. Before she could get her attention, he gave a cry of triumph that drew her gaze back to him as the stone his hand pressed on began to slide backward with a heavy, low, grinding sound. The wall followed suit a moment later, opening into what looked to be a black hole. Greenweld’s man frowned into the darkness unhappily, and Iliana could almost read his thoughts. He had not thought to bring a torch.

Taking the opportunity while he was distracted, Iliana leapt forward and gave him a shove that sent him stumbling into the darkness with a shout. Whirling, she gave a stunned Janna a push as well, this one sending her stumbling toward the doorway leading to the hall.

“Go!” she cried, harrying her forward. Janna regained herself enough to obey. Leaping at the door, she dragged it open and flew through it. Iliana was directly behind her when Janna crashed into her mother and Angus. It appeared Angus was prepared to return to the wall, for he was armed. Despite his weakness and having the woman slam into him, the man managed to keep his feet, and Iliana began to relax, thinking she was safe, but even as they all turned to look at her, she felt a hand catch in the short curls on the back of her head. When that hand yanked viciously, wrenching her head backward, she came to an abrupt halt, wincing as the icy edge of a blade was raised to her throat.

For a moment there was silence. Iliana could hear her captor panting by her ear. She herself was breathing heavily as well but tried to control it, for each time she sucked in air her throat rose slightly with the action, pressing the sharp blade farther into her neck. Angus was the first to regain himself.

“Let her go,” he ordered grimly, pulling free of Lady Wildwood’s panicked grasp and taking a step toward Iliana and her captor.

Greenweld’s man stepped back at once, dragging Iliana with him, and she winced as the sword edge pressed tighter to her throat.

Angus stopped at once. “There is no where fer ye to run. Let her go unharmed and I’ll make yer death quick.”