“Sage! Damon! Bonnie! Look for a corridor, locked, going right.
Then don’t get swept away. Sage, hold Bonnie and have Saber bark like
crazy. Bonnie, hold on to Meredith in front of the guys. The corridor
leads to Stefan!”
Elena never knew how much any one of her allies heard of this
message, sent by voice and telepathy. But ahead she heard a sound that
to her was like choirs of angels singing.
Saber was barking madly.
Elena would never have been able to stop by herself. She was in a
raging river of people and the raging river was taking her right around
the barrier made by four people, a falcon, and a mad-seeming dog.
But eight hands reached out to her as she was swept by—and a
snarling, snapping muzzle leaped ahead of her to divide the crowd.
Somehow she was being run into, bruised, cradled, shoved, and, grasped
and grasping, forced all the way to the right wall.
But Sage was looking at that same wall in despair. “Madame, he
tricked you! There is no keyhole here!”
Elena’s throat went raw. She prepared to shout, “Saber, heel,” and
go after the vampire.
But then, just below her, Bonnie’s voice said, “Of course there is.
It’s shaped like a circle.”
And Elena remembered.
Smaller guards. Like imps or monkeys. Bonnie’s size.