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in the corner of the cart. Quickly she sprayed the hinges and sat back on her heels to listen for any sign Ned had turned her in. Convinced no one was coming, she took one last look around. Steeling her spine, she carefully lifted the grate cover, damn it was heavy, and wriggled through. Gently closing it so as not to make a sound, her arms strained from the effort, a small ping was the only indication something wasn’t as it should be.
    She waited a moment, listening, and then reached through the grate, pulling the cart back in place, hiding her escape. It was almost morning; she’d be discovered missing at breakfast. She had to move fast. The plan was to get to the docks, find a ship, and get the hell out of Scotland. Somewhere safe. A place where there weren’t men who could disappear, a place where she could feel normal again. She could clean, cook, and sew. Would offer her services in return for passage out of the country. Didn’t matter if she had to stowaway, whatever it took.
    Ugh, it was wet and smelly in the tunnel. Crawling, Maggie moved forward, inch by inch. It was dark, the walls and floor damp. As she crawled, she could hear voices as she passed under one of the townhomes on the street. Coming to a larger opening, she looked around. Water was flowing steadily now and the reek of sewage was getting stronger, invading her nostrils. Here’s hoping Ned was right. He wasn’t kidding; the main tunnel was a lot bigger. She could stand up without bumping her head.
    Maggie’s shoulder was throbbing, the blood a slow trickle down her arm. Once she was safe, she could have it tended. In the meantime, safety was the only priority.
    Walking faster, the water up to her knees in places, she kept going. Just a bit further. Teeth chattering and chilled from her wet clothes, she kept moving. Once she surfaced, she’d have to steal a coat or she’d risk freezing to death if she couldn’t find a place to hide and dry her clothes.
    A couple of hours later, she could see the early morning light filtering in, casting muted patterns on the filthy water.
    Heaving a sigh of relief, she looked around for a way to get to the top. Spying rusty metal rungs in the wall, she placed her hand on the first one and stopped. Did she have the right place? The only indication was an EC painted on the wall but that could mean anything. If this was indeed Edinburgh Castle it sounded like some kind of event was taking place. It was way too early for them to be open to tourists. Quickly climbing as her shoulder throbbed and burned, she peered up through the grate.
    It looked like a wooden structure of some kind was set up. Maybe left over from Halloween? It would shield her from the people she could hear though she couldn’t make out what they were saying.
    Pushing up on the grate, it wouldn’t budge. She couldn’t see any type of lock. It probably hadn’t been opened in a hundred years. Not now, not when she’d come so far, so close to freedom would she be stuck in this filth beneath the ground. Climbing up one more rung so she was crouching, she put her uninjured shoulder against the grate and pushed hard. Her thighs straining from the exertion as the grate moved. With a mighty shove, the grate gave just enough for her to shimmy through.
    Gasping like a fish out of water, she rolled to her side, scuttling backwards when she noticed there was no back to the wooden structure. Anyone could see in. Taking deep, gulping breaths of air to calm her nerves, she was grateful the roar of the crowd covered the clang of the grate as it slammed shut.
    A scuffling sound pulled her attention up. Dirt was falling through cracks in the wooden boards above her. There were people walking around up there. A drum roll started. Crossing her fingers the noise and whatever scene was taking place would shield her from prying eyes; she crawled across the cobblestones to the open end of the platform, wanting to stay low to the ground in case anyone happened