Read The Forgotten Locket for Free Online Page A

Orlando said. “You have your list of names. I don’t have to tell you anything else.”
     
    Orlando turned to me and grasped my hand before I could do more than take a single step back. He pressed his palm flat against mine.
     
    I felt a flash of energy when our fingers touched, and for a moment his eyes took on a brighter, more electric-blue hue.
     
    “Do you trust me?” he asked, his voice low and private.
     
    I heard an echo of his words, but in a different voice, a different time.
     
    I felt off balance, as though my next step would either be on land or in the air. I would either fall or fly. And either way, my fate would be decided. Would I trust him? Could I? What did my heart say?
     
    “Orlando!” Angelo shouted, standing up behind the table.
     
    “Please, my lady of light.”
     
    The words sent a jolt up my spine. I knew that phrase. I remembered it. Tracks of fire burned hot in the blackness of my mind until I could almost see the shape of the language on his lips. Could almost see that he wasn’t speaking English, but Italian.
     
    How did I know Italian?
     
    “Domenico, stop them,” Angelo ordered.
     
    The small man at his side startled, then took a tentative step in our direction.
     
    Orlando held my gaze. I thought I glimpsed an infinite measure of patience in his eyes, but I knew we were running short on time. The mysteries of strange languages, black doors, and missing memories would have to wait.
     
    I knew if I wanted answers, I would have to go with Orlando.
     
    I nodded quickly, squeezing his hand in mine for emphasis.
     
    His sudden grin transformed his face, stripping away the strain and worry I hadn’t realized was there until it was gone.
     
    That sudden sense of familiarity was back, stronger than before. He looked so much like someone I knew. But who?
     
    “Then don’t look back,” he said and pulled me toward the main doors of the courtroom.
     
    “Domenico!” Angelo shouted.
     
    I heard a commotion behind me—the scrape of wood on woodas a chair fell over, the flurry of papers taking to the air—but I didn’t look back.
     
    All I could see before me was Orlando’s dark hair, his broad shoulders, and his strong arm linked to mine. There was a part of me that hoped he would never let go.
     
    We pushed through the door and into a narrow hallway. More light flickered, this time from torches. My breath surged in my throat, clotted and cloying; I felt like I might throw up. I stumbled, feeling the walls close in around me. My eyes were unfocused, blurry with double vision. I had been somewhere like this before, and recently. Somewhere dark. Somewhere I didn’t want to be again.
     
    “Wait—” I gasped, pulling on Orlando’s hand to slow him down.
     
    He turned, and I saw the same claustrophobic terror around the edges of his eyes. He wanted out of this suffocating place as much as I did.
     
    I gathered my courage and forced my eyes to focus on the here and now.
     
    Behind us the hallway stretched out long and thin before falling off into a staircase descending into darkness. A guard stood at attention at the top of the stairs. His eyes locked with mine and he bristled with suspicion. He took a step forward.
     
    “Not that way,” Orlando said in a hurry. “That way leads to the dungeon. No, this way.” He tugged me forward.
     
    Shouts sounded from behind us. A door slammed open, the bang as loud as a drum. I could hear the staccato rhythm of boots thumping on the wooden floor, the crispness of metal on metal. The sound made me think of a knife on bone, or a fingernail scraping over a tightened string. My mind shied away from the mental image, from the music I could almost hear, and I shook my head, trying to concentrate on staying upright and moving forward.
     
    My feet tripped over themselves until I found a fast rhythm. Keeping pace with Orlando, I counted my steps, knowing each one was taking me closer to freedom and the promise of open