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cracked rungs.
    Moving up the staircase, heavy footfalls grew louder.
    “Lord Randal said he didn’t care if he lived or died. Let’s just kill him and go,” the second guard said.
    “He’s a kid you heartless bastard. What’s wrong with you?” Rory said.
    With his pulse racing, Ronan threw open the bedroom door, raced along the hallway, and pulled himself up the ladder.
    “You check to the left. I’ll go right,” Rory said.
    Ronan stifled a scream as he pushed on the attic door. It didn’t move an inch. Multiple layers of paint combined with years of disuse had sealed it shut.
    “There he is!” The heavy guard dashed toward Ronan. “Get down from there you little bastard.”
    Ronan slammed his shoulder into the door, but it remained stuck. A surge of hot panic rushed through his body as he felt a hand wrap around his ankle.
    The second guard stood at the ladder’s base with his hand locked around Ronan’s ankle. “I got him Rory. Help me pull him down.”
    “Get off me you fat bastard.” Ronan slammed his boot’s heel into the guard’s face.
    With an audible pop, the guard’s head snapped backward. Blood poured from his nose as he sank to one knee cupping his face with his hands. “My nose! Elan damn him, he broke by nose!”
    With another surge, Ronan heaved his shoulder into the attic door. This time it moved an inch as sharp pain flared in his shoulder.
    Rory sprinted along the hall and stopped next to his friend.
    “Pull him off that ladder Rory. Use your sword if you have to.” His words sounded nasally as if he had cotton balls shoved up his nostrils.
    In a desperate surge, Ronan sent his shoulder flying into the door again. Pain ripped through his shoulder as the door gave way sailing upward into the dark space of the attic.
    “It’s over boy. Come down. You can’t escape from there. You aren’t a bird,” Rory said.
    Ronan ignored the guard, grabbed the dark hole’s rough edges, and pulled himself inside the attic.
    Rory, a large man by any measure, slid his blade into its scabbard, clenched his jaw and started up the ladder. “We’re to do this the hard then.”
    With his heart hammering, Ronan scoured the pitch-black attic for some weapon he could use. But, his eyes couldn’t break through the blanket of darkness shrouding the space around him. He settled on the dislodged attic door lying a few feet away.
    “Boy, if you make me chase you into this attic, I’m gonna throw you in chains. Get down here. Now!” Rory reached the attic’s entrance and struggled to pull his enormous belly through the small hole.
    Ronan lifted the door overhead and slammed it on top of Rory’s fleshy bald scalp.
    Rory screamed, and his weight shifted downward as the ladder rung supporting him gave way under his bulk. Eyes bulging, Rory hurtled backward landing in a twisted heap atop the still reeling guard at the bottom of the ladder.
    With a heavy thud, Ronan dropped the attic door into place, and stomped it closed. He’d bought himself a few minutes of precious time and used it to allow his eyes time to adjust.
    Through the attic door, different voices shouted instructions, and the footfalls of more guards pounded the main stairway.
    Rotted crates, a dust covered rug, a cracked mirror, and an empty splintered bookcase comprised the attic’s inventory. A narrow board ran across the attic floor’s beams ending in a small circular window that had several rotten boards nailed over the opening.
    Ronan tiptoed across the thin board arriving at the boarded window. With a sharp tug, he pulled at the rotten boards. The house’s decayed condition worked in his favor as the brittle wood pulled away with little effort. After freeing the second board, the sweet summer air offered cool relief from the attic’s stale confines.
    Outside the open window, the rooftop’s steep angle ended ten feet away in a sheer drop-off.
    Ronan jumped as a loud banging noise came from the attic door behind him.
    A moment later,