Rain soaked through his cloak even before he was halfway across the graveyard, moving slow to avoid tripping over any of the stone markers. Judging by the string of oaths behind him, Rowan hadn’t been as careful. Ahead, he could see the crypt–a large stone plinth which he knew would open to a crypt beneath the earth where all the Kings before had been laid to rest.
Will was the first to reach it, already crouched and running his hands over the stone before Rowan and Colin arrived, Rowan holding aloft the spluttering torch. Eyes straining to make out anything in the dark, Will’s heart leapt as his fingers brushed over an indentation in the stone. It took him and Colin both to heave the heavy stone upwards, revealing the top few stairs in the dying torchlight and the darkness that gaped ahead.
“I better go first,” Will said, raising his voice to be heard over the howling of the wind. “Rowan, give me the torch.”
“No argument here,” Rowan huffed, offering his hand forward.
Will took the torch and, swallowing the misgivings that tangled in his throat, lowered himself onto the first step. The blackness rose around him and the light, the rain overhead thudding on the stone ceiling as he descended into the gloom. Behind him, Rowan and Colin were nothing more than half silent footfalls on solid stone.
Raising the torch higher the better to see their surroundings, Will turned his head to take in the chamber they were entering. The crypt was massive. The steps were straight and narrow, no handrails blocking them from the plummet to either side. He could hear water dripping continue beneath the earth and, stillseveral feet below them, he could just make out the torch reflecting off of puddles gathering on the crypt floor. He shivered, remembering the attack over the winter, the knights who had fought on these steps. It was a miracle none of them had been slaughtered.
At the bottom of the stairs, his feet hit solid dirt floor, damp earth muffling his steps. Will turned on the spot, taking in the narrow corridor they had entered, lined with large stones, each about the length of a human, that each had a name etched into it.
“These must be the Kings before,” Colin whispered interestedly, approaching one of the stones. “I wonder…”
“We don’t have the time to explore right now,” Will cut across him. “We’ve got to get to the end of the tunnel and get out to meet Niet.”
“Right,” Colin mumbled sheepishly.
The three moved closely together, Will’s knuckles white on the torch handle as they moved down the corridor, twisting along the narrow tunnel. Etchings in the stones cast darker shadows, reminding Will forcefully of claw marks gouged in rock. Their own shadows moving ahead made the hair rise on the back of his neck, tricking him into feeling that they weren’t alone beneath the earth.
More than once, Will thought he heard something and froze, heart slamming in his throat, only to see water trickling down the walls into a puddle or a mouse scurrying over the floor and away from the invading light. To his relief, neither Rowan nor Colin seemed to notice. They were both as jumpy as he was, Rowan grabbing his arm once and yelping as a rock Will’s boot had kicked rolled ahead of them.
“You know,” Rowan said, in an obvious attempt to seem casual, releasing his death grip from Will’s arm. “It’s honestly quite spacious down here. I was expecting more dead people to be taking up the room.”
“They’re behind the stones,” Colin said flatly. “That’s why there’s carvings in the rocks, it’s the name and date of the Kings, Queens, and heirs who’ve died in Alamore.”
“Well, now this is creepy,” Rowan grumbled. “Thanks, thanks a lot. I was really considering moving down here, starting a family, but now that I know the walls are filled with dead people, I don’t think I’ll be doing that.”
“We shouldn’t be down here anyway,” Colin snapped. “It’s only royals and their trusted few who are supposed to enter.”
Will grimaced. “We don’t have a lot of choices.”
“Anyway,” Rowan pointed out. “Will’s royal and we’re his trusted few so we’re fine. Stop being such a stickler for rules, won’t you?”
“Where’s this tunnel entrance?” Will hissed, breaking the argument he knew was about to start behind him.
“Can’t be much further, can it?” Colin muttered. “I’d expect we’ll be there in a moment.”
Sure enough, when they turned around the next twist in the corridor, they were met with an iron gate that spanned the height and width of the tunnel. The black metal bars twisted, each the thickness of Will’s arm. Set at the center of the gate, reflecting silver in the dark, was a small keyhole. Will reached into his pocket with his torch free hand, his fingers shaking as they rested on the replica key that Zudin had given him. Silently begging that it would work, he pulled it from his pocket and slipped it into the lock, twisting it.
A faint click echoed through the tunnel behind them and Will stepped back as the gate swung wide on groaning hinges, opening into more darkness. None of them moved, each rigid while the echoing sound of the gate opening faded into distant echoes. Will swallowed, finding it difficult through his dry mouth, and turned, brows raised.
“Reckon we should leave it open for coming back?
“No,” Colin said firmly. “We can’t risk the castle for this. I say we lock it and slide the key underneath so no one can take it from us. If we’re caught, it’ll at least be on the right side of the gate then.”
“In terms of the castle security, that seems the best decision,” Rowan agreed nervously. “Though, I don’t much care for the idea of being trapped in this damned tunnel.”
“We aren’t coming back this way anyway,” Will said firmly. He stepped through and, once the others had entered, pushed the gate closed. The hinges moaned again, causing a shiver to run down his spine. “We’ll be riding back through the gates.”
“Before breakfast, I hope,” Rowan said, his stomach growling loudly in agreement.
Will did what Colin had suggested, locking the gate and sliding the key as far and hard underneath it as he could before straightening and turning to the chamber they had entered. Beside him, Colin gave a low whistle and Rowan swore. The chamber was a vast cave, the walls fading from sight on either side in darkness and the ceiling a distant shadow that flickered in the torch’s light.
“How big is this place?” Will asked, turning to stare at the shadows that flitted along the edges of the room.
“Has to be massive, especially as it leads into the tunnels,” Colin pointed out.
“It gives me the creeps,” Rowan announced, drawing his dagger. “But, seeing as it does meet the tunnels, don’t you reckon we should keep moving? Not sure about you two, but I’m not really looking forward to a reunion with the tunnel people if any are still in here.”
“Right.” Will shivered at the very prospect of meeting tunnel people in the near darkness. Feeling both of his friends waiting on him to lead, he straightened and strode forward with as much confidence as he could muster, silently hoping they were moving in the right direction. “Keep your eyes open for any hatches that lead back up to the surface–offshoots of the tunnel, stairs, ladders, anything.”
Being on this side of the gate made Will’s skin crawl. They were soon ducking into another branch of tunnels, lower than the first, and narrower, but with obvious boot prints. Colin thought the tracks seemed several months old and Will hoped he was right. If so, this had to be the branch that led to Thornten.
None of them spoke, moving in silence, all too aware of the flickering light shining as a beacon in the dark, telling the world they were beneath it. Will imagined several times he could hear distant voices or the scuff of boots, making him spin round, raising the torch. Rowan and Colin were on edge as well and, at one point, a distant sound made all three of them jump, raising their daggers and the torch.
When the silence returned, stretching for several minutes, Rowan laughed nervously. “I’m guessing that was a rat.”
“Rats don’t sound like that,” Will hissed. He waite
d, listening, but the sound had been brief and some distance behind them.
“Maybe an animal fell down into the crypt,” Colin muttered. “We left it open. I don’t hear anything now, do you?”
Will had to agree he didn’t, and they continued, though Colin and Rowan still clutched their daggers and Will silently cursed himself for not thinking to grab better weapons. How stupid had he been to forget that? He’d thought of an escape from the castle but what were they supposed to do against Thornten with knives? He should have at least tried to barter for some from Zudin but, knowing Glimmern, they wouldn’t have been able to afford them anyhow.
“What’s that up there?”
Will was yanked from his thoughts by Rowan’s voice hissing to his left. Raising the torch higher to spread its shadow further, Will’s heart sank. Ahead was what seemed to be a solid wall, no passage leading beyond it, slanting at an angle upwards. A dead-end. He had led them down the wrong branch of the tunnel.
“We could double back,” Colin offered.
Will stepped closer to the wall, reaching out his fingers to brush the surface, his eyes still fixed on the floor. The tracks of soldiers from the winter ended here. It didn’t make any sense. Pressing his hand against the wall, he pushed. Nothing happened. He pushed harder, shoving his shoulder against the wall. There had to be a way out, they couldn’t just be trapped underground. He thought of the key on the far side of the gate, out of their reach, and pushed harder, panic rising in his throat.
“Hold up, look,” Colin whispered.
Will turned to his friend, fighting to hide his fear and saw Colin was pointing to the low ceiling above them. Twisting his head upward, Will saw it as well. Almost hidden in the ceiling was a square patch that did not match the rest of the tunnel.
“Will, Row, give me a foot up,” Colin ordered, stowing his dagger back in his belt.
Will propped the torch carefully against the dirt wall and moved to help Rowan. Together, they lifted Colin toward the ceiling. Swearing under his breath, Colin pushed against the center of the off-colored ceiling with all his strength. A breath of fresh air broke through the stale tunnel along with a shower of water sprayed down on them.
Rowan let out a whoop, almost dropping Colin in his attempt to punch the air. “It’s a door! Yes! Brilliant!”
“Focus, Rowan, or you’ll break someone’s neck,” Will grunted, staggering under Colin’s weight to keep him from falling.
“Sorry.” Rowan reddened, reaching to support Colin better.
“If you two can push me a bit higher, I can get through,” Colin said, apparently not noticing Rowan’s lapse in support.
Straining, Will and Rowan pushed Colin as high as they could. There was a resounding thud of a hatch being open and rain began to pour through the hole in the tunnel ceiling. A moment later, the weight lifted from Will’s shoulder and Colin was pulling himself out. “Alright, I’ll throw down a rope,” Colin’s voice called down to them. “I just have to find it in my bag.”
“You next,” Will ordered Rowan, stepping back to grab up the torch again.
“You sure?” Rowan frowned. “I mean, I don’t mind being last up.”
“This is my plan.” Will shook his head. “I’ll go last. It’s fine.”
A moment later a rope was falling to the floor at their feet. With a salute, Rowan turned from Will and grabbed onto the line. Will watched Rowan struggle his way up the rope until he could grab the edge of the hatch. With a kick and grunt, Rowan’s feet were pulled from sight.
“Right, Will, we just heard Niet hollering nearby so looks like we’re set. Colin’s going to get him. It’s you now,” Rowan called down.
Will nodded, glancing at the torch in his hand, then at the rope. If they were going to keep the torch he’d have to be pulled up with the rope. Otherwise, he’d have to keep the torch here. The prospect of continuing without light wasn’t one he cared for, so he tilted his head up to the hatch. He had just opened his mouth to call up to his friends when an icy chill ran down his spine. Even before he turned, he knew the cold had nothing to do with the rain trickling down his collar and everything to do with the fingers that were biting into his shoulder.
“Drop the torch, boy,” hissed a voice behind him. “I’m afraid your little adventure is over.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Jerking round, Will swung the torch up with all his strength and the hand released him with a string of oaths. The man staggered backwards, stumbling out of his reach. The man threw one hand out to catch his fall, bracing himself against the tunnel wall and looking up at Will with bloodshot blue eyes.
“Will! Will! What’s going on?” Rowan was shouting above him.
“Stay up there,” Will ordered, backing a step away from the man, who was straightening now, one hand reaching to grab the sword from his side. The last thing he needed was to have Rowan here. Gripping the torch in both hands, Will tried to place the man before him; the pale, gaunt face surrounded with stringy white-blond hair, the eyes that burned too bright above dark shadows. He was certain he’d seen this man before, but the features were different, nightmarish now.
“I can’t let you go, not that way.” The man swayed, a smile curling the edges of thin, pale, lips. He looked like a man driven to the brink of madness. “If you get away, if you escape, they’ll kill me.”
The man took a step nearer and Will stared at him, his mind racing to place where he had seen the face before. “Who are you?” Will demanded, raising his voice. He needed Rowan to know someone was down here so he wouldn’t do anything stupid.
“Oberoan,” the man answered, running his sword-free hand over his stubble-lined jaw.
“Who’s down there? Will! Will!” Rowan was bellowing above the sound of the storm. “Colin! Niet! Help! We need help!”
A string of memories flashed before Will’s eyes: the man standing by the cart the day he’d first met The Cutthroat Prince, the one guarding the Ranger, the one hurrying to report to Ross in the dinner hall. “You’re a soldier,” Will said, stepping back and raising the torch. And understanding washed over Will. “You’re the spy.”
“Yes.” The soldier’s eyelid twitched and something between a smile and grimace spasmed over his lips. “I didn’t want to be, you got to understand that I’m not doing this to be a traitor. They’d kill me. They will kill me if I don’t do this…”
Will took another step back. Above him, he heard Rowan swearing between shouts for help. Will guessed he was trying to figure a way back into the tunnel without falling. He silently hoped he wouldn’t find one. This wasn’t their fight; they didn’t need to be in here. But what if Oberoan heard them? Would he hunt them next?
“You are a traitor of Alamore,” Will said, raising his voice. He had to drown out the noises above, keep this soldier distracted. He edged backwards. If he could figure a way to grab the rope without being noticed, perhaps Rowan and Colin could pull him out of this tunnel, if Colin was back yet.
“No, I didn’t want to have to do this.” The man shook his head, as though bothered by a fly. “But that Cutthroat Prince, he’s got more control than anyone can say. He’d have killed me for entertainment, as a message to the others…”
“Others? Like other spies? Like whom?” Will stopped, quite forgetting about the rope behind him for a moment. “Who are his other spies?”
“He never lets me know,” the man whimpered. His tongue flitted over his teeth and his smile spasmed again. What sanity he held seemed to be slipping away. “He’s always waiting for me. He’s been angry with me a few times for not knowing more… When you and your friends got away the first time, I thought he might kill me. Then the knight attacked him… he was furious. When I didn’t manage to catch you in the castle, that’s when he came closest to killing me. If I hadn’t had the maps of the Princess’s journey, he would have. I’d have been dead.”
Will stared at Oberoan, trying to make sense of what he was saying. “You stole maps? You’re the one who got
the Ranger ambushed? How…” He stopped and wished he could kick himself. The hooded figure who had been coming into Serena’s chamber the night he and Colin had. It had been their distraction that gave him time to get there. And this was the cloaked figure. He hadn’t been there to hunt them. He’d been after those maps, those lines that trailed from Kelkor to Alamore. That’s how he’d known. “So, Serena hasn’t had anything to do with this?”
“Nothing.” The man twitched his head to the side, panting, and took a step nearer. “She hasn’t trusted me. She doesn’t trust anyone. I was worried her squire would be the same when I told him I didn’t want to watch the Ranger, thought he even saw me on the walls the other night.”
“And you killed all the soldiers!” Will snarled. He didn’t move as Oberoan took another step in his direction. Anger was coursing up his back, making his hands shake. “You killed guards and they trusted you.”
Something like pain flickered in the eyes then Oberoan shook his head. “It was my life or theirs. I’ve been a soldier here for years. It was simple enough to walk past them. I wasn’t in the night guard, I was never suspected…though I think the Ranger saw me too. He was leaving through and when he didn’t come back, I knew he wouldn’t come back. You see, if I keep myself a secret, I get to live. That’s the deal The Cutthroat Prince has. He wants information, he wants power. And that’s why he wants you, because he could gain power.
“All of it’s been easy. When you would leave the castle, it was me who would signal toward the forest by dropping a banner from the side of the castle. The night you left, I was terrified. I thought I would lose my life, cause you weren’t supposed to leave. You were supposed to be there. But when they caught the Ranger, I knew I had this one more chance.
So tonight, I saw you and your friends coming here and I followed. I had intended to take you from Alamore myself tonight, under the cover of the storm. I waited, I watched. I’ve heard that you were working in the kitchens. Then you didn’t go to the squire chamber to sleep. Instead, you all came down here and when you stepped through the gate I was terrified, certain that was the end of my life.” The man was rambling, the skin under his eye twitching. “Then I heard that key, heard you slide it under the door. And this is it. This is my chance. I’ll bring you to Thornten, to The Cutthroat Prince, and he will reward me. I’ll be a knight under his rule, I won’t have to live in fear of being discovered by Revlan or of disappointing him. I will be free of this and you will get to be a Prince. It’s best for us both.”
The Cutthroat Prince (William of Alamore Series Book 2) Page 34