Of course. I immediately recognized the block as the way in. I crouched down and gripped the handle with both of my hands, bracing myself for a great deal of exertion. But when I pulled, the block slid smoothly toward me a full inch, spilling a bit of debris, crumbs of mortar and pine needles, to the ground at my feet.
At this point I paused, considering. I had acted with the utmost care so far today, in spite of which I had nearly lost my leg. There was every reason to expect that someone, Doctor Avery Stiles himself, perhaps, now stood on the opposite side of this very wall, with one of his homemade poisoned arrows aimed at the hole. Even if he was not, he doubtless lurked somewhere in the compound, and would soon know that it had been breached. I had to proceed with care. I looked up once again at the lip of the curtain wall, then both ways down the length of the gap. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, I slowly slid the block out of the wall and set it on the ground at my feet.
The block was very heavy, about eight inches thick, with a handle on the inside identical in design, but less damaged by the elements. The reason was clear: as I had predicted, the wall was very thick at its foot, sheltering the handle from harm. Indeed, I discovered, hazarding a peek inside the opening, that it was at least four feet thick — so thick that it must have been difficult to detect, from inside, whether someone had moved the block.
The hole — a tunnel, really — was smooth and even, and had obviously been part of the wall’s original design, rather than an afterthought dug out after construction. It was as neatly mortared as the exterior of the wall, and was more than wide enough to admit an adult male in good physical condition.
There was no need to wait. I removed my pack and quiver, ducked down, and climbed inside. I moved forward slowly, making as little noise as possible; the air grew cold as the wall closed in around me. I was reminded of my trip to the cellar of my house, and breathed deeply and evenly, in an effort to dispel my fear.
My head had soon reached the end, even as my ankles dangled out into the gap. I was looking out into a sheltered corner of the main courtyard that I had seen from the summit of the rock. A large piece of shrubbery grew directly before me, and I was reassured by the cover it offered. To the left was another wall, part of the large hall or dwelling I also remembered from before; the pieces of play or exercise equipment I remembered were also here, off to the right. I lay there for several minutes, looking and listening, and I detected no human presence besides my own.
Without further hesitation, I crawled out of the tunnel and onto a flagstone, where I crouched, ready to fight. I was, at last, inside the castle.
THIRTEEN
For all my anxiety at having breached my quarry’s stronghold, I must now confess that, at this moment, that anxiety was twinned with a second emotion, one less easy to identify, and more surprising. It was a feeling of belonging, if not of actual familiarity — a sense that, though I was far from safe standing here in the castle courtyard, my presence here had a rightness, that it represented the fulfillment of some previously unknown desire. It was as though something hanging crookedly in my mind had finally been righted.
For all the peculiarity of this feeling, however, I did not have time just now to stop and consider it at length. I studied my surroundings until I was confident that I had indeed gone unseen, then I reached back into the tunnel to grab hold of my pack and quiver. I dragged them through, and after a moment’s thought, wriggled in once again and took hold of the inside handle of the block. With some concerted effort, I was able to wedge it back into place from the inside. I realized that it might cause me trouble if I were to need to retreat quickly; but to leave the block lying there would signal to the Doctor, should he be outside and approach through the gap, that his fortress had been penetrated. The element of surprise was a reasonable trade for the seconds I might lose trying to escape. I did not, of course, plan to need to escape. Whatever happened, I intended to leave the castle without fear or haste.
I shouldered my belongings and slowly stood up.
The castle had appeared quite imposing from outside, but now that I had come through the wall, it seemed smaller, and less threatening. It had more of the look of a ruin, as well. Debris that had fallen from the crenellated walls was piled, seemingly untouched, around the edges of the courtyard; a few stones even lay on the roof of the building to my left. The flagstones were heaved and cracked, and weeds — even entire trees, like the shrub I now stood behind — sprung up between them. And contrary to my observations of the path outside, I could detect no clear evidence of any human presence. If the Doctor lived here, he concealed himself well. The castle looked abandoned.
I took one last visual survey of the grounds, and began to move.
From over my shoulder I drew my bow, and an arrow, which I nocked and held at the ready. I kept close to the western wall, stepping stealthily, swiftly, keeping my eyes on those obstacles in the courtyard which might conceal a man. I sidestepped along the curtain until I reached the edge of the compound; then I inched silently east. I passed underneath a small square barred window, and soon reached the corner.
The only part of the courtyard that had been invisible to me from the tunnel opening was on the other side of this corner. This would be the small area underneath the large watchtower. There was likely to be some kind of entrance into the compound, and another into the tower; if my foe lay in wait for me, it was almost certainly around this corner that I would find him. In fact, it was possible that he stood there now, his bow aimed.
After another scan of the visible courtyard, I decided upon a course of action. I unchocked my arrow, gripped it and the bow in one hand, and took a breath. There was a wooden structure up ahead, a sort of crooked, broken table around which tall weeds had sprung, and it was there that I now directed my gaze. From behind it, I would be able to peer into the hidden corner of the courtyard. I marked my decision with a quick nod, and sprinted toward the structure.
Only ten feet separated me from my goal, but my feet slipped and skidded on the crumbling flagstones, and my mad dash felt more like a labored, heavily burdened trek. In any event, I made it. I crouched down behind the wooden table and inspected my body for wounds. There were none. If an arrow had been fired, it had missed me.
I took a moment to gather myself, then peeked over the top of the table.
The hidden section of courtyard was much as I had imagined it. There were open doorways, yawning into darkness, leading into the compound and tower, and a large pile of rubble that appeared to have fallen from the tower’s southwest corner. There was also another wooden structure, a kind of cage, with chains and other metal apparatus hanging inside it. The sight of this object gave me pause — it had an aura of sinister intent about it, and impending danger. No one was visible anywhere, but I smelled smoke.
I chose to wait a few minutes, in an effort to detect movement anywhere on the castle grounds. As I waited, I examined the structure I was crouched behind. I could see now that it wasn’t a table, not precisely — rather, it was a heavy, circular wooden platform balanced upon a roughly carved inverted wooden pyramid, the two attached by a fist-sized and tightly fitted peg. Overall it had the appearance of a very large child’s top. The platform, though thick, was cracked down the center from exposure, like an old kitchen cutting board left soaking in water. The flagstones underneath it were worn down and cracked, as if from its weight and motion.