Free The Keeper by David Baldacci Page A

and shot a glance over my shoulder. He was very nearly at the door.
    Which meant I was trapped.

I LOOKED FRANTICALLY AROUND . There was no space under the bed. The nightstand was too small to conceal me. There was only one option. I put out my candle, jumped up into the wardrobe and shut the doors. I was trying to shrink myself behind the clothing when I heard Thorne enter his chamber.
    At first, I dared not move. The box was still in my hand. As I bent over to set it down, the contents inside shifted, making a slight sound. I held my breath, hoping beyond hope that he had not heard it. A sliver went by and I finally let out the breath. I figured it had been the ring sliding around that made the noise. I slowly opened the box and felt for the ring in the darkness. My fingers closed around it and I slipped it on. Then I set down the box and waited.
    I heard Thorne muttering to himself. He seemed to be spending some slivers around the fallen door. That made sense, I thought. How could so paranoid a Wug safely go back to sleep exposed, particularly after such an attack? Then I heard grunts and more grunts. A group of ekos apparently had joined their king. I heard a great deal of huffing and puffing and then something hard hitting something else hard. The grunts continued for about a sliver and then there were multiple footsteps going away. Then silence.
    As I stood there in the wardrobe, I thought about what to do. Finally, I reached an answer. My plan would be to wait until he fell soundly asleep and then make my way out of the chamber through where his door had once been.
    His mutterings continued and I grew more and more curious as to what the bloke was doing. I found that if I leaned forward, I could see through a slight gap between the two wardrobe doors. The chamber was lighted now because Thorne had evidently lit the wall torches when he’d returned.
    My hopes of escape plummeted.
    Thorne had had the ekos lift the door and place it in its opening. While it was no longer a perfect fit, there was no crevice big enough for me to fit through. I would have to stay here all night and wait for Thorne to leave next light, or risk knocking the door over as soon as he was asleep.
    Then, suddenly, I had a far greater problem.
    Thorne was heading right for the wardrobe.
    I saw with a thrill of horror that his nightshirt was filthy. He was going to put on a fresh nightshirt to replace the dirty one.
    I shrunk back as far as I could, though I knew it couldn’t possibly be enough. In my anxiety I nervously twisted my grandfather’s ring around and around on my thumb. The doors were flung open and I caught a breath and closed my eyes, waiting for the blow to fall.
    Nothing happened. I opened my eyes. Thorne was staring right at me, our faces barely a foot apart. But he made no reaction. It was as if he couldn’t see me at all. He pulled out a clean nightshirt and closed the wardrobe door. A sliver later, I heard him settle into his bed. I stood there trying not to breathe, but also trying to sort out what had just happened.
    If Thorne could see to take a fresh nightshirt and then climb into bed, how could he possibly not see me? I ran a hand down my leg. I was solid enough. Then I rubbed my finger against the ring. In twisting it around and around, I had reversed it. The part of it with the strange three-hooked design was facing downward, and the ring’s band was exposed on the top side of my thumb.
    I had worn the ring before and nothing special had happened. But I had never reversed the ring before, I thought. In twisting the ring around as I’d done, had I been, well, rendered incapable of being seen? It seemed an impossible thought, but what other explanation was there?
    So could I sneak out of here? I would still have to move the door to get through it. Thorne would certainly know someone or something was there. Or I could stay here and wait for first light. I decided to chance it.
    I glanced through the crack once more and