‘I don’t think we were reading
each other’s mind,’ I reply. I bend down and get to work on Elle’s lock. ‘I
couldn’t see your thoughts, only the ones you directed at me. Why could you
read mine?’
‘And then some, it’s like a triple
X theatre up there.’
‘It is not,’ I say. ‘You can
stay in here if you want?’ I point the nail at her.
‘Fine. Your thoughts are as pure
as a new born lamb’s. Better?’
‘Middle ground might be nice.’
The door clicks and swings open.
‘You’re so demanding,’ Elle says, striding out. ‘And no I can’t actually read
thoughts.’ She looks up and down the hallway. ‘It’s like Bloodlust’s weekend
place.’
‘I knew you’d been reading my
comics!’ I exclaim.
‘We should go get Yates,’ she
says quickly. ‘Don’t worry, I didn’t bend any spines.’
‘You better not have,’ I reply. ‘A
lot of those are mint.’
We walk through the castle,
glancing down side passages and behind rusting suits of armour until we find
Yates’s corridor. We run along it, hoping against hope that we find him.
Elle gets there first. She’s a
frighteningly fast runner. ‘Oh god,’ she says, putting her hands on the bars.
I stand beside her and look into
the gloom. Yates lays slumped like someone who would sleep for ever. His arms
lie above him and his feet splay like he’s fallen awkwardly.
‘Is he unconscious?’
‘He’s in a memory,’ Elle says. ‘I
guess our sight isn’t the only thing still available to us.’
‘Why did he do that?’ I say. I
hear the annoyance creep into my words and I feel a knot of guilt.
‘Because he was thrown in a cell
away from everything he knows,’ Elle scolds. ‘What would you do if you were
Yates?’
‘I’d look for my friends.’
‘Would
you really?’ Elle says. ‘Do you really think that if you’d been through what
Yates has been through you’d believe you had any real friends?’
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