He glanced toward the tunnels, anticipation thrumming through his veins. His dream of Miles had been so vivid, so real—his brother had shown him the way, led him through the tunnels, and whispered the words that still echoed in his mind:My death was not an accident.
A lump formed in his throat, but he swallowed it down. Not now. Today was about the treasure.
“Where are the tunnels?” Michael asked, his wide-eyed curiosity unmistakable.
Lacey barked as if urging him on.
To Stephen, it was almost as though she were saying,What he said.The thought made him chuckle.
“What’s so funny?” Michael asked.
Stephen crouched down, grinning. “I was just thinking of something amusing. But now it’s time to get serious.” He held up a finger. “First rule—we stick together. Rule number two—pretend we’re pirates. And what do pirates do?”
Michael’s face lit up. “Piwates have fun!” He puffed out his chest. “Lacey and me areweady!”
Lacey gave an excited bark in agreement.
Stephen gestured to the opening. “Then here’s where we begin.”
With their lanterns raised, he and Michael stepped inside, Lacey padding close at their heels. Stephen pulled the door shut behind them.
The tunnel wound and twisted beneath the earth, the damp air thick with the scent of stone and dirt. Their lanterns cast flickering light along the rough-hewn walls, illuminating shadows that danced and shifted.
“Are you all right, Michael?” Stephen asked after a few turns.
“Piwatesare never afraid,” Michael declared, stepping in time to a determined marching rhythm.
Stephen grinned but said nothing more. The boy’s enthusiasm was infectious.
As they turned another corner, the tunnel suddenly opened up into a larger space. Shelves lined the walls, their wooden surfaces coated in dust and cobwebs.
“I wonder where all these tunnels lead,” Stephen mused aloud, a flicker of regret settling over him. If only he had taken more interest in the manor and its land instead of gaming and drinking, he would have known these tunnels long ago. “We should keep going—unless you see something we ought to investigate, Mr. Pirate,” he said, deferring to his younger companion.
Michael held up his lantern, considering the shelves. “No, I think we should walk,” he said before setting off again, Lacey trotting faithfully behind. “How much longer, do you think?”
Stephen smirked. “I don’t know, Michael. But there’s treasure down here. I can feel it. Are you with me?”
Michael’s eyes gleamed in the lantern light. “Yes, we are!” He marched ahead, then suddenly stopped, his lanternilluminating a darkened corner. “What does thetweasure chest look like?” he asked. “Does it have a hump on the top?”
Stephen’s brows lifted. “Do you see something?” Adjusting his lantern, he directed the light toward the corner. A shape emerged—a wooden chest, its surface worn and aged, covered by so much dirt that it nearly blended into the wall.
“It’s atweasurechest!” Michael cried. “We found our tweasure!” He jumped up and down in excitement. “Look! It’s got a lock, and it’s chained to the wall!
“That’s to be expected, lad. Pirate chests are always locked,” Stephen said, chuckling. He scanned the room before grabbing a hefty rock from the floor. “Let’s see if we can do something about breaking it free from the chain.”
With a strong, deliberate strike, he brought the rock down against the rusted chain. The metal gave way with a sharp snap.
Michael bounced on his heels. “It’swealexciting! Can we open it now?”
Stephen hesitated, eyeing the ornate design of the chest. “Perhaps we should wait until we get back to the manor house? That way, your grandmothers can see what you’ve found.”
Michael considered this, his small hands gripping one of the ornate handles. “All right,” he agreed.
The chest was heavier than either expected, but between the two of them, they managed to lift and carry it through the tunnel’s winding passages. The musty air seemed even thicker with mystery now, and Stephen couldn’t shake a nagging sense of unease.
Had they truly explored the depths of this tunnel?
According to his count of the turns, they were close to the entrance—hisentrance. The one Miles had shown him in his dream.
