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The Captives (part three)

Avram’s ancient hands shook as he tried to straighten out the wick. As he struggled with it, he glanced out the window to see the last of the day’s light retreat below the horizon.

“80 years,” Avram said to himself, determination in his voice. “80 years and you have never failed to light this castle, and you won’t fail tonight!”

Avram could hardly hold his lamplighter still enough to relight the wick, but he managed to light it. He moved as quickly as he could to the next lamp. “Lord Bressin won’t know. I’ll finish and he won’t need to know and get worked up over it.”

As he reached to light the lamp, Avram felt a strange chill, and all the candles around him began to go out, though the air was still in the castle!

Avram turned to call out to Lord Brannis, but terror at the sight before him paralyzed him. With the sound of a grinding millstone, the gargoyle on the stair rail stretched its grey wings wide and hissed at Avram, “Free! Finally we are free! And now our jailors will pay for our captivity!”

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