There was a little unhappiness from the people in front of her but none argued.
“We can use the horses from the group we left behind,” Eamon suggested.
Fiona nodded. “That would work. Their patrol area is much smaller and covered easily on foot.”
“I took a look before we snuck out. They have several people guarding the gates,” Phillip said.
“They also have people on the walls,” Shea replied.
“Night like this, it’ll be easy to spot us on the bridge,” he observed.
In this instance, the moon’s light was more of a hindrance than a help, making them easy to see and destroying any chance of secrecy.
“That’s why we’re not going out the front,” Shea said with a roguish grin. She stepped back, letting the shadows swallow her.
She slipped along the stables and between two stone slabs in the wall. Once on the other side, she made sure she stuck to the shadow the wall cast, following it along the field to a small spot next to the wall. She knelt and lifted a heavy wooden cover. Eamon and Phillip rushed to help and together they opened it just wide enough so they could slip into the hole it revealed.
Shea was the first to drop in, moving several paces into the narrow corridor. Once she was sure she was far enough from the opening not to be seen, she struck a match, lighting a candle she pulled from her pack.
She held it up, illuminating the space as the others slipped inside.
“Do you want us to cover this back up?” Phillip asked.
“Leave it. I’ll need to use it to get back into the Keep,” Shea responded. If it was covered while she was still down here, it was unlikely she’d be able to move it enough to slide back through.
“What is this place?” Fiona asked.
“An older part of the Keep,” Shea responded. The corridor was damp, and the floor mostly covered in dirt, but the walls were strong and obviously well built. “What you see above was built on top of the old one.”
“How does everything not cave in?” Fiona asked, her eyes wary as she looked at the structure like it might crumble at any moment.
Shea shrugged. “It happens every so often. I’d watch your step. This place has several spots where the floor has given way.”
The Trateri’s faces turned cautious as they moved with exaggerated care.
It was several minutes later when they saw the first proof of Shea’s warning as she waved her candle over a gaping maw in the floor. The stones, weakened by time, had given way to the hall below. Shea peered over the edge, noting another passageway similar to theirs.
They skirted it, working their way through the passage, one stone at a time until they came to a spiral staircase that would lead them well beneath the cliffs.
The group was silent as they stuck to the edge of the stairs closest to the wall. The air had an oppressive quality that clung to the skin.
“This reminds me of the caverns,” someone said in a quiet voice.
They weren’t wrong. The air had the same oppressive weight, as if the inhabitants who had disappeared so long ago still walked these halls waiting to drag the living into the afterlife with them.
“We’re almost there,” Shea said.
“Where?” a voice she didn’t recognize asked, a hint of frustration in it.
“Enough questions,” Eamon said. “Quit acting like daisies scared of your own shadow. If she says this is the best option, then it is.”
Their steps echoed in the passageway, each small movement reverberating off the walls.
“Maybe, but I’ll be very glad to be out of this place,” Roscoe said.
After that, they were quiet again until they reached the bottom of the staircase. The ground here was uneven and filled with boulders. Shea was careful as she picked her way through, finally reaching a door that hung off its hinges.
She wrestled it open, yanking and pulling until she created a large enough opening for even Eamon to slip through, then she peered through, holding the candle slightly in front of her.
