There are 21 steps above, each designed to break a leg or crack a skull.  Be careful. 

Mirella’s heart began to pound. It was the voice, the meddlesome voice that had caused her to be driven from her home.

         “Go away!” she whispered furiously. “I need no help! I want to be alone!”

         She tensed, waiting for a reply but there was none. She continued to stand in the gloom, rubbing her throbbing elbow. Why should the voice speak to her now?

         She hadn’t been plagued by it since coming to Casoria. That day, Mirella had backed out. But she’d gone back two days later and every chance she got after that, bringing a broom, rags, pails of water and most of all, fat tallow candles to put in the ill-placed sconces. The twisted stair had been built between the castle walls and there was no light. Later, she was to find out that the sconce brackets had been nailed wherever they could find cracks in the stone.