She had determined that the guards outside her room changed at midnight and that the one who arrived to relieve thefirst one would often disappear for a few minutes to the latrine at the end of the hall as soon as he’d relieved his partner.
She waited until she heard his approaching footsteps.
“Boggins,” said the first guard.
“Caldus,” the other soldier remarked. “Nothing to report. Lady Bryn retired around nine. Lights went off by ten.”
“Right. Guarding a future queen isn’t such a bad job, eh?”
The first lowered his voice. “You know what Carr is planning . . . ”
“Hardly a secret. Wouldn’t you do the same?”
Bryn shuddered to think of what they were referring to: It was most likely his plan to marry her to become king, but it could easily be something viler.
The first soldier departed, and Bryn held her breath, waiting to see if the second one would take his usual trip to the latrine. Sure enough, as soon as he was alone and thought no one was watching, his footsteps ambled down the hall.
She eased her door open, peeking through the crack. As soon as he closed the door to the latrines, she darted out of her room, closed the door, and raced around the corner. Her bare feet kept her steps silent, though her heartbeat felt loud enough to wake the entire castle. She darted down the next hall past her parents’ former bedroom and into an alcove with a statue of Saint Albin. Dropping to her knees, she swung open a small doorway hidden behind the statue’s base.
Inside, the passage was pitch black. A musty odor came from within, and she knew there must be all kinds of spiderwebs and vermin in there. She crawled in and closed the door behind her.
She hadn’t brought a lantern, knowing that if she were caught in the hallways with one, she’d be instantly under suspicion. But she outstretched her palm now, traced a hexmark in the air, and whispered the spark spell Valenden had taught her while on the road.
“Kora yoquin.”
A small flame danced to life an inch from her palm. She’d seen Rangar perform this spell countless times to light hisstatuapipe, and villagers in the Baersladen to get a bonfire going. She had no candle to light to keep the flame going, so it died after only a moment. But it had given her enough light to see which direction to go.
Feeling along one wall, she tried to remember the map of the passages. When she reached the end of the wall, she recited the spell again and summoned a new flame.
It flickered just long enough for her to see that the passage had run into another perpendicular passage. She knew the right turn would take her to the hall outside of the council chamber, so she turned left. After a few feet, her hand brushed something that clattered, and she summoned another flame.
The dim light of the fire in her hand revealed a china plate on the floor. There was a crust of bread and cheese rind that vermin hadn’t yet gotten to, so it couldn’t be more than a few hours old.
Someone else has been in here. Recently.
It was probably a servant who’d worked in the castle long enough to know about the passages. But it made Bryn uneasy. Now, afraid she might run into someone, she continued to make her slow way crawling in the dark, pausing at every turn to summon a flame and find her way as she moved down halls and sets of stairs so perilous she feared she’d fall to her death.
The musty smell grew stronger the further down she went. The passage walls were no longer the smooth limestone bricks of the upper portion of the castle; now they were roughly hewn boulders slick with condensation. She heard the scurrying sound of mice. Her heartbeat sped up, still thinking about that plate she’d found and knowing that other people knew about these passages.
If Captain Carr caught her here, he’d know immediately that her whole act was a ruse.
She descended another set of stairs and splashed into a puddle.
“Kora yoquin.”
The fire lit up, revealing a more spacious passageway. Finally, she could stand to her full height. The walls had been blasted out of pure bedrock and still bore the marks of explosives. She heard voices not far away. She quickly doused her flame.
Pressing her back to the wall, she listened.
“No, the inspection isn’t until Tuesday,” a male voice said.
“You’re wrong. Roquin said Monday.”
As the two men argued, Bryn stepped silently down the length of the hall. A light flickered at the end, drawing her attention. When she dared to peek around the corner, she spotted the dungeon’s main guard station. Lit lanterns flickered on the walls next to a wooden table where the two men sat with their backs to her. They were facing a larger staircase which must have been the primary dungeon entrance; the old, narrow stair passage she’d descended probably wasn’t used enough to be worth guarding.
Her bare feet were freezing on the cold stone floor. She sucked in a breath, watching the backs of the soldiers' heads, and then took the risk of darting the few feet to the cell block.
Her body was trembling both from the cold and from fear that if any prisoners saw her, they would likely call the guards. But the first cells were empty, and the few prisoners she did see were asleep, as it was well after midnight.
