Macster - The Missing Links

Tony tried to keep his breaths soft and shallow as he took the steps two at a time. He'd been lucky to find a side door out of sight of the Huntsman's lookout, and to find that cubbyhole for storage to hide in. But would his luck hold out?

The steps creaked warningly as he neared the top of the stairwell, and then, as he rounded a corner and stepped through a hatch into the tower's belfry, he suddenly came face to face with--himself. Distorted, hunched over and warped like any Quasimodo he'd ever seen. But himself.

It took him a moment to realize what he was seeing, and when he did, he sighed in relief and grinned. He was looking at his own reflection in the magic mirror where it stood propped against a support beam.

Quickly he dashed to the window, noticing that the Huntsman's bags and weapons lay about the small room, but no crossbow. He hoped Prince Wendell could fend for himself on that. Looking outside, he watched as the dog pretended to tug on his lead, watched as the Huntsman approached, silent and deadly, and then Wendell suddenly dashed away from the central post and disappeared down a street. The Huntsman whirled and went after him, as quickly as he could with his injury, gripping his crossbow and lifting it high as he too vanished around the corner.

He was safe now. Chortling, he crossed to the mirror and grasped its frame, leaning it forward as he prepared to lift it. There was something attached to the back--

The tripwire sprung, and he could hear the pulleys working. With a groan of creaking hinges, the hatch slammed shut, sending up a cloud of dust, and there was the distinct click of a lock.

Horrified, Tony let go of the mirror and let it fall forward onto a pile of sacks, heedless of the danger, as he rushed to the hatch. He tried to open it, but the lock was jammed. He kicked the lock, but despite its age it was strong and would not yield. He was trapped in the tower.

Tony gulped, his heart in his throat and his brow sweating. He shouldn't have done this alone, that was all. But he had no idea where Virginia and Wolf were, and there'd been no time to search for them. This was what came from trying to think of a plan while drunk.

Running his hand through his thinning hair, he vacillated, then ran to one of the windows. He cursed. The roof was too far away, slanted too steeply, and was canted at a strange angle. He ran to the window on the other side. He sighed slightly. This roof was less steep, much closer, and looked much more safe.

He didn't like it but he had no choice. Going back to the mirror, he heaved it up in both arms. The damn thing was heavy. Great. Now he was even more unbalanced then before. This did not bode well. He had to hope the luck gods were with him tonight.

Tony scrambled up on the windowsill, put his feet out on the roof tiles, and breathed deeply, gathering his strength, wits, and dexterity--none of which he had in any great supply--and lifted the mirror out onto the roof.