Upstairs, Iluska was trembling. She hadn't moved from the spot where Dmitri had left her. She was pointing his contraption at the door, but she wasn't even sure that she knew how to make it shoot. She wondered then, if she would be able to do it. Would she have the courage to fire? She didn't know. What she did know was that Dmitri was out there, fighting for her life. He would save her, and her father. She had no doubt.
Until she heard the scream. It was short, followed by a gurgling sound. Her mind was filled with nightmarish visions. She imagined Dmitri's distorted, burnt form, tossed on the fire like deadwood. She envisioned him spread out on one of the tables, being sliced apart by faceless maniacs. She didn't even want to think of her father!
She wanted to move, to go down and save them herself, but she was paralysed with fear. Petrified by the unseen horrors below. Her heart was thumping, and she was soaked with sweat. But her father was down there! She had to go!
She had made her decision. She would go. She kept the crossbow pointed at the door and willed herself to move. Her legs felt like lead. Try as she might, she could not lift them. With an iron determination, a will born of terror, she slid her feet slowly along the wooden floor. Teeth tightly clenched, she pointed the bow at the door and edged forward.
