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“I will. Thanks.”
The woman gave her a tight-lipped smile and a nod, shooting one last glance to the bathroom door before she spun on her heel and headed down the hall.
Paige pushed the door closed, puffing her cheeks out as she blew out a sigh of relief. “Coast’s clear!”
The bathroom’s thick, carved, mahogany door popped open, and Dewey stuck his head out, sniffing the air. “Mmm, smells great. Let’s eat!”
“What about the secret passage?”
Dewey dumped the flashlight on the coffee table in front of the fireplace and perched on the couch. “We’ll explore it later. The fish and chips will be gross if we let them get cold. And then we can’t properly compare it to the Millom chippy.”
Paige plopped on the couch next to him and unloaded the food, setting the dessert aside for later. She handed a container off to him along with a few napkins before she popped the lid on her own meal.
The scent of pub food filled the air, and she bit into a fry before wrangling a plastic fork from inside a wrapper and pulling off a chunk of fish.
“Mmmm,” Dewey murmured next to her. He took a few more bites of the fish filet before he munched on a fry. “This is good.”
“It is,” Paige agreed.
“But I think the chippy shop beats it.”
Paige took another bite of the fish and narrowed her eyes, staring into the air as she chewed. “Mmm, you may have a point.”
“It had more flavor in the breading.”
They polished off their meals and the dessert. Paige stuffed the empty containers back into the bag and set them near the trash can in the room.
She flopped onto the bed and patted her belly. “Whew, I’m not sure I can move to explore the passage after that meal.”
“I know the feeling,” Dewey said, flying slowly to the bed and plopping down next to Paige. He sprawled on his back, flinging his arms out.
“Maybe after a quick nap,” Paige said, her words slurring as she slid her eyes closed.
“Paige! Paige!” Dewey’s voice called.
It echoed through her brain, sounding odd and distorted.
Paige tried to answer, but she couldn’t open her eyes or make her lips move. She murmured something unintelligible, wondering why she couldn’t open her eyes. She tried to lift her arm or move her legs, but found herself unable.
“Paige,” Dewey hissed in her ear again. “Wake up!”
Her body jiggled as Dewey poked her. “There’s someone at the door.”
Paige fought to flutter her eyes open. The room spun, hazy and warped. She squeezed them closed again as nausea washed over her.
A creak sounded, and light hit her closed eyelids.
“Shoot!” Dewey hissed before the world faded away from her.
* * *
Water dripped in the distance as Paige fluttered her eyelids open. She stared up at a stony ceiling while she lay on her back. Her arms were stretched over her head and her legs splayed. She struggled to keep her eyes open, sucking in raspy gasps of breath.
Nausea swept over her in waves, but she fought to keep her eyes open, afraid of slipping back into unconsciousness. She tugged at her limbs but found herself unable to move.
Panic washed over her, clearing some of the haze from her mind and forcing her to become more alert. She yanked at her hands and feet, craning her neck to glance at them. Metal restraints were strapped around her wrists and ankles.
A large wheel stood above her head with chains wrapping around it that extended to her wrists. She swallowed hard, realizing she lay on the medieval torture device known as the rack.
