Gradually, she detected a change in the air to her left. She crawled in the direction of the spell’s tug. It was frightening to move in complete blackness, not knowing who else might be down there. She had to move slowly, feeling ahead with her hands. Eventually, she reached a narrow staircase and scaled down it carefully. If her memory was correct, she was only a few passageways from the kitchen—
Her hand collided with a metal bar.
She cursed. She’d forgotten about the locked passageway gates. This one had always been unlocked before, but now the gate was firmly fastened.
Then, she recalled Elysander’s key.
Whispering a prayer of gratitude, she fished the chain out from under her collar. The three rings from Rangar, Valenden, and Trei clattered softly, and she held her breath, hoping the sound hadn’t given her away to anyone else who might be down here.
After a few moments, she muffled the rings in her palm and twisted the gate’s lock.
The hinges groaned. She cringed, her heart pounding.
Did something scrape behind her—someone’s boot?
She froze, breath going still.
She could almost feel the presence of someone else, but after a few heart-pounding moments, no one made any more noise.
She scrambled through the gate, hurrying toward the kitchen, praying that the sound she’d heard had only been a mouse. The finding spell’s tug led her down a passageway where a faint light shone from the end. She crawled to a wooden vent with slats that allowed her to peer down into the kitchen.
Judging by the lack of dust around this vent, someone else knew it was an entrance to the tunnels, too.
A handful of late-night scullery maids were seated around the kitchen worktable, kneading bread for the morning. They were all older women except for one who looked just a few years older than Bryn. She was pretty, with raven hair and a darker complexion than most Mir common folk. She kept to herself while the older women gossiped about someone’s ailing health.
Bryn listened for some time, hoping to overhear some indication that they were sympathetic to the rebels and could take a message to them on Bryn’s behalf, but they never mentioned the attack in Saint’s Forest.
Reluctantly, she turned back and started crawling through the tunnels again. She didn’t dare risk being away from her room for much longer in case the guards came to check on her. She’d have to return another night and try to find—
Another scrape sounded just up ahead.
Bryn went still.
This time, it was clearly too loud to have been caused by a mouse. Her eyes scoured the darkness, but it was impossible to see more than a few inches in front of her face. She thought she heard someone breathing, but it could have been her fears distorting her senses.
Since she couldn’t go forward, she backtracked down another passage.
The breathing followed her.
She crawled faster. She didn’t dare use the spark spell now. Even whispering the finding spell would make too much noise.She had a vague idea of where she was in the castle’s network of secret passages. She hadn’t climbed stairs, so she was likely still on the lower level. There was an opening to the stables somewhere, but her sense of direction was too impaired to know if she was headed in the right direction.
She heard a scrape of someone’s boot, louder and bolder this time, behind her.
Bryn gave up trying to remain silent as she scrambled faster. What could she use as a weapon?I should have brought a knife.She felt along the passageway floor until her hand brushed a loose brick. She clutched it in her palm, spinning around, pressing her back to the passageway wall.
Her pursuer wasn’t far behind. Their movements echoed in the narrow passage. She tried to silence her breath as she raised the brick, listening for their approach—
When she heard the floorboards groan only a foot away from where she crouched, she brought down the brick through the air.
Someone caught her wrist mid-swing before it could connect.
A strong grip clutched her arm, squeezing so hard that she cried out and dropped the brick.
She gasped, “Let me go. I’m the queen!”
A chuckle came out of the darkness. It was masculine and strained but not in the way Captain Carr’s voice rasped.
“You aren’t queen yet, mouse.”
