27 - A Night in Terror Tower Read Free Page A

followed it, gazing around the
small, cold room. “Imagine. Two children. Grabbed away from their home. Locked
away in the drab chill of this cell in the top of a tower.” Mr. Starkes’ voice
remained just above a whisper.
    I suddenly felt cold. I zipped my coat back up. Eddie had his hands shoved
deep in his jeans pockets. His eyes grew wide with fear as he gazed around the
tiny, dark room.
    “The prince and princess weren’t up here for long,” Mr. Starkes continued,
lowering the pennant to his side. “That night while they slept, the Lord High
Executioner and his men crept up the stairs. Their orders were to smother the
two children. To keep the prince and princess from ever taking the throne.”
    Mr. Starkes shut his eyes and bowed his head. The silence in the room seemed
to grow heavy.
    No one moved. No one spoke.
    The only sound was the whisper of wind through the tiny window above our
heads.
    I shut my eyes, too. I tried to picture a boy and a girl. Frightened and
alone. Trying to sleep in this cold, stone room.
    The door bursts open. Strange men break in. They don’t say a word. They rush
to smother the boy and girl.
    Right in this room.
    Right where I am standing now, I thought.
    I opened my eyes. Eddie was gazing at me, his expression troubled. “This is… really scary,” he whispered.
    “Yeah,” I agreed. Mr. Starkes started to tell us more.
    But the camera fell out of my hand. It clattered noisily on the stone floor.
I bent to pick it up. “Oh, look, Eddie—the lens broke!” I cried.
    “Ssshhh! I missed what Mr. Starkes said about the prince and princess!” Eddie
protested.
    “But my camera—!” I shook it. I don’t know why. It’s not like shaking it
would help fix the lens.
    “What did he say? Did you hear?” Eddie demanded.
    I shook my head. “Sorry. I missed it.”
    We walked over to a low cot against the wall. A three-legged wooden stool
stood beside it. The only furniture in the chamber.
    Did the prince and princess sit here? I wondered.
    Did they stand on the bed and try to see out the window?
    What did they talk about? Did they wonder what was going to happen to them?
Did they talk about the fun things they would do when they were freed? When they
returned home?
    It was all so sad, so horribly sad.
    I stepped up to the cot and rested my hand on it. It felt hard.
    Black markings on the wall caught my eye. Writing?
    Had the prince or the princess left a message on the wall?
    I leaned over the cot and squinted at the markings.
    No. No message. Just cracks in the stone.
    “Sue—come on,” Eddie urged. He tugged my arm.
    “Okay, okay,” I replied impatiently. I ran my hand over the cot again. It
felt so lumpy and hard, so uncomfortable.
    I gazed up at the window. The gray light had darkened to black. Dark as night
out there.
    The stone walls suddenly seemed to close in on me. I felt as if I were in a
dark closet, a cold, frightening closet. I imagined the walls squeezing in,
choking me, smothering me.
    Is that how the prince and princess felt?
    Was I feeling the same fear they had known over five hundred years ago?
    With a heavy sigh, I let go of the cot and turned to Eddie. “Let’s get out of
here,” I said in a trembling voice. “This room is just too frightening, too
sad.”
    We turned away from the cot, took a few steps toward the stairs—and
stopped.
    “Hey—!” We both cried out in surprise.
    Mr. Starkes and the tour group had disappeared.

 
 
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    “Where did they go?” Eddie cried in a shrill, startled voice. “They left us here!”
    “They must be on their way back down the stairs,” I told him. I gave him a
gentle push. “Let’s go.”
    Eddie lingered close to me. “You go first,” he insisted quietly.
    “You’re not scared—are you?” I teased. “All alone in the Terror Tower?”
    I don’t know why I enjoy teasing my little brother so much. I knew he
was scared. I was a little scared, too. But I couldn’t help it.
    As I