For once Cormac ignored her. He tried to jiggle his sleeve free, but that only pulled it taut. He was stuck.
Unexpected fear struck like lightning, splicing his chest.
“You answer me right now, Cormac MacAlpin,” Marjorie said sternly.
“Och, hell, what?”
He shimmied his arm up to free it, but only grew more tightly wedged into the passage. His heart kicked hard in his chest. “I… I think I'm stuck. ”
Aidan laughed. “You've ate too many pasties from the Aberdeen baker!”
“It's not funny,” Marjorie snapped.
Though their chatter carried to him, it didn't fully pierce his thoughts. He was trapped, and that fact alone filled his head.
“I'm stuck,” he said, and though his voice was brave, he knew his twin would understand the truth of it.
“Aye, I hear you. ” There was a clatter from below as Aidan propped the grate onto its side, like an impromptu ladder. “Och, Marjorie, could your uncle no' sweep the bloody hearth?” Aidan was silent then, trying to find his balance. He fell once, then carefully clambered back up to teeter on the top edge of the grate. It plunged Cormac into total blackness. “You get to save Marjorie, but it seems you need me to save you. ” His tone was light, but Cormac heard the seriousness underneath. Aidan would help him. They always got each other out of jams.
“Thanks, Aid. ” Cormac's breathing reverberated loudly in the tight chamber. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to calm. He stretched his toes down as far as they'd reach.
“Eh, don't fash yourself over it. Though it does mean you lose the dare. ” Chuckling, Aidan jumped, and Cormac felt a hand swipe at his foot. There was a loud clanging, and a cloud of ash exploded as he landed.
“Mind the grate!” Marjorie shouted.
“Thanks,” Aidan said dryly, “I hadn't considered that. ” He coughed. “Losh, Cor, how'd you get up that high?” He slapped at his clothes. “My breeches are a wreck. Mum will have my hide. ” Aidan repeated his jump, and then again. His fingertips grazed Cormac's feet each time, but he didn't manage to get purchase.
“Aye, Marjorie,” Aidan said, his voice booming up along the chimney stones, “what say we bring one of your uncle's chairs to—”
There was a whoosh of air from below, and Cormac's twin was suddenly gone from beneath him.
Cormac waited a moment, and panic prickled in his chest. “Aid! Don't you dare leave me here. ” Marjorie cried out.
What were they doing? Had Aidan gotten bored trying to help? It was strange and confusing and a little scary.
“Aidan,” Cormac yelled, “what are you playing at?”
“No!” His twin was shouting, and there was real fear in his voice.
Had their mothers returned home? Marjorie's uncle? Were they in trouble?
Dread shot up Cormac's spine. “What is it?” he shouted lamely.
His question was met with muffled cries, and his heartbeat surged with renewed force. Something was wrong. He began to wriggle and jerk his body roughly, desperate to free himself.
Aidan shouted again. “Take your hands—”
There was the sound of scuffling, and his brother's cries grew silent.
Marjorie began to shriek, and it chilled Cormac to the bone. She shrieked until her voice grew ragged and she seemed barely able to catch her breath. And then, unimaginably worse, the shrieking was cut short.
“Ree!” Cormac screamed, writhing madly now. The movement wedged him more snugly into the stones. The chimney was a tomb, sealing him in. “Aidan!”
There was one last yelp from his twin, a terrible faraway sound, and then silence.
“Where are you?” Panic shrilled in Cormac's brain and exploded in his chest. Trapped. The chimney stack seemed to shrink around him, and he panted, desperate to catch his breath. His pulse thundered, and he wondered if it were possible for hearts simply to burst.
Think. He had to think. Fear could kill. But he had a job to do. Something had happened to Aidan and Marjorie.