She descends cautiously. The ladder sways once, but she steadies herself without looking down. Her breath puffs white in the chill. Down here the air isn’t just cold, it presses in heavywith damp stone and the faint tang of rust. It doesn't smell of pine smoke, like yesterday.
Somewhere above a slow drip measures the silence.
We start across the dungeon. Every step rings out, bouncing off walls steeped in history. The dusty wine crates loom ahead. The crack we spotted yesterday is just behind them.
“Still betting it’s nothing?” Eva asks.
“Still.”
“You were more concerned earlier,” she points out.
“I’ve reconsidered. Now I’m leaning toward a perfectly harmless structural flaw.”
Her mouth tilts. “That wasn’t a very convincing delivery.”
“Didn’t say it was.”
We reach the crack. The flashlight catches the jagged outline in the stone. I step closer, keeping the beam tight on it. It’s wider than I remember. Not just a crack. More like… an edge. I press my fingers to it. The surface is colder here. Different.
“This isn’t right,” I murmur.
She shifts beside me. “What do you mean?”
I push, gently at first. The stone shudders under my hand. Something inside grinds. A hollow sound.
Eva’s eyes widen. “That’s?—”
“A door,” I finish.
I step back and glance at her. “Want to open it?”
“You found it. You open it.”
I brace my shoulder against the frame. It resists but then moves with a drawn-out groan, dust spilling into the beam. The smell that escapes is dank and metallic, edged with something sharp.
The opening yawns into a narrow passage, sloping downward into black.
“Wow.” She leans forward and peers in. “This is insane.”
“I’m assuming you had no clue?”
She shakes her head. “In sixteen years, I never—” She stops. “How far do you think it goes?”
I meet her eyes. “Let’s find out.”
We step inside. The walls close in fast, consisting of rough stone that’s slick in places. Cobwebs snag my sleeve. Droplets cling to the rock and catch the beam.
“It smells…” She tilts her head. “Like wet rock and… something else.”
“Rodent droppings,” I say.
She grimaces. “Yikes.”
I angle the flashlight down. “Watch your step.”
Something small darts across the beam and disappears into the dark.
“Rat,” I say.
