Rasnake(28)

On the bed, Marden snored heavily. As Cecil had promised, Marden was dead to the world. Tallant motioned silently to Milton, then realized Cecil might not understand—but when he turned to softly explain Cecil only rolled his eyes and gestured silently for him to shut up. Smiling, Tallant turned away and they all moved to the tapestries.

Milton wasted no time, but went immediately to one in particular. He pulled it down and cast it aside, then stood starting thoughtfully at what seemed to be a solid stone wall. "He came from here."

"If you say so," Cecil goaded.

Leaving the brothers to scowl at each other, Tallant squatted down and examined the floor. "This is definitely where he came from. The floor is dirtier here than elsewhere. There's dirt, rock, and mud, and signs of something scraping it." He rose to his feet. "We just need to figure out how to open a door we can't see."

"Is that all?" Cecil asked dryly. He moved closer to the wall and began to carefully examine it. "If he kept the tapestry over it, then it must push in." He knelt and examined the ground, the wall, fingers tracing the mortar seams. "I think it moves here," he finally said. "I don't know if this is the hinge side or the open side, though."

Tallant marked where he indicated, then matched the points a few stones over, roughly the size of a doorway. "Same signs of wear here. So we'll just try pushing on either side 'til something gives." Nodding, Milton braced to push on the top of the wall, while Cecil remained kneeling and pushed from the bottom. He nearly toppled over when the door abruptly gave way with surprising ease.

Calling up a mage light, Tallant sent it into the passageway and examined what was revealed. Stairs, thankfully. It only made sense, but he'd half feared another ladder. Raze growled softly, inquisitively, claws clicking as he padded down the steps, vanishing into the dark, chased by the light Tallant sent after him. Tallant followed Raze, with Cecil, Bite, and Milton close behind. The steps must run right beneath the main stairwell, to avoid the two clashing.

Sure enough, not far down, they found what seemed to be a dead-end tunnel, and another secret door. A few more minutes of fumbling to push it open, and they spilled out into the castle. "So this is how he gets to the chapel," Cecil said. "But those stairs keep going."

"Let's see where they stop," Milton replied, and pulled the door shut, sealing them in the dark passage again.

Tallant resumed the lead, and continued on until the stairs abruptly stopped in a damp, musty smelling cave. Mage light revealed evidence of torches, boxes that probably contained tools to make more. Eschewing the torches, Tallant simply created more mage lights. When everyone was in the torch room, he pressed on, drawing his sword though he did not know what danger he expected to find.

What he didn't expect to find was a room filled with what was obviously objects belonging to the castle and its inhabitants. Tapestries, more of the gold and silver trees, arranged around an astonishingly accurate dollhouse of the castle. There were small chests filled with jewelry, trinkets, all manner of things.

"Marden is the thief," Cecil said, shaking his head. "Why would he steal all this stuff?"

Milton examined the castle dollhouse, fussing with a tiny wooden doll that obviously represented him. It stood in the main courtyard with a girl with red hair and a violet gown. He suddenly started laughing, and set down the Milton doll to pick up another one. He held it up—an elf doll, covered in tiny tattoos. "Look, Tallant. There's one of you!"

"Put that down!" Cecil snarled, and snatched the doll away. Even in the weak light, it was obvious his face had turned scarlet. "I really don't think now is the time to be playing with dolls!" Shoving the doll into one of his pouches, Cecil stomped out of the room, into whatever lay beyond.

Tallant snorted in amusement. Milton snickered. "It really could have been a doll of you, though Cecil obviously made it up. He had it with his doll in the private garden."

"I see," Tallant said, smiling.

"Told you he liked elves with tattoos," Milton said. "I cannot wait for the first time you two have a lover's quarrel and he throws you in the moat."

"Like I'd be stupid enough to argue with him in a place from which he can throw me."

Milton only sniggered, and they pressed onward.

Cecil was waiting for them—at the edge of a lake. "Gods in heaven," Milton said. "There's a lake beneath the castle?"

"Probably gets water from the same place that supplies our moat," Cecil said. "I almost didn't see it was water, it was so smooth. Only the boat gave it away." He pointed to a small boat off to the side; it didn't look like it could hold more than three people.

Their voices echoed eerily in the massive cavern, rippling out over the water before fading away.

Then they heard other voices. Female. Screaming for help.

"Let's go!" Milton said, then cupped his hands around his mouth and called out across the lake. "We're coming! Light a torch!" The words echoed, bounced, jarring against the cave walls and the water. Tallant wasn't certain the women would have understood them. But a moment later, he could see light. "Let's go," Milton repeated, and they all climbed into the small boat, Cecil reluctantly ordering the wolves to remain behind.

Tallant took up one oar, Cecil the other, and they rowed on Milton's command, moving steadily across the water, closer and closer to the flickering torchlight. They finally reached the shore of what seemed to be a small island. A cluster of young women shrieked as they landed, screaming and crying and cheering.