Chapter 152 Silent Plot
The guard’s hand fell away from my skirt. He went completely limp, his chest stuttering to a final, permanent halt.
I stood up, holding the dagger. I drew the blade from the scabbard. The steel was slightly pitted from the ambient magic, but the edge was still sharp and lethal. I tossed the wooden scabbard onto the floor and gripped the weapon tightly in my right hand.
I have a blade, I told Klaus, resuming my slow, painful walk toward the eastern wall.
Be careful, Klaus warned, the protective instinct flaring brightly in the dark. The stairs are steep, and there will be no torches. You will be walking blind.
I am used to the dark, I answered coldly.
I reached the eastern wall. I pushed aside the shredded, rotting remains of the third tapestry.
The stone wall behind it looked perfectly solid, but as I ran my bloody, trembling fingers over the cold rock, I felt it. A hairline fracture in the masonry, forming a perfect rectangle.
I pressed my hands against the stone block on the right side of the seam and pushed with all my remaining body weight.
The heavy stone ground backward with a harsh, scraping sound, revealing a narrow, pitch-black opening barely wide enough for my shoulders. A rush of freezing, damp air hit my face, smelling of old dust and deep earth.
I found it, I pushed through the tether.
Follow the stairs down until they end, Klaus directed. It will drop you into the lower catacombs, bypassing the main guard barracks. From there, you head north until you smell the sea.
I gripped the iron dagger, stepping into the freezing void of the secret passage. I pulled the heavy stone block shut behind me, sealing myself in absolute, suffocating darkness.
The descent began.
I had to keep my left hand pressed flat against the rough stone wall to guide myself, testing each step with my bare toes before committing my weight. The stairs were narrow, uneven, and covered in centuries of loose grit.
My breathing echoed loudly in the confined space. Every muscle in my body burned with a deep, sickening exhaustion. My stomach cramped, a sharp, twisting agony of starvation that made me want to curl into a ball and sleep on the cold stone.
Talk to me, I pleaded through the bond, desperate for a distraction from the crushing pain. Tell me something, Klaus. Keep me awake.
He felt the fraying edges of my consciousness. He knew I was running on empty, fueled entirely by spite and adrenaline.
When we get out of here, Klaus murmured in my mind, his voice a low, soothing vibration that wrapped around my shivering soul. I am going to take you to the southern islands. The water there is warm. It is so clear you can see the white sand a hundred feet down.
I smiled in the dark, a weak, tired curving of my cracked lips. Are there Emperors in the southern islands?
No, Klaus promised fiercely. No crowns. No courts. Just the sea.
I would like that, I whispered back, taking another agonizing step down into the black.
We talked for hours as I descended. We built a phantom life in the dark, constructing a world where the Citadel was just a bad memory. He told me about the taste of fresh mangoes, about the massive, silver-scaled fish that swam in the southern reefs, and the way the sun felt on open water. He kept my mind anchored to the future, refusing to let me drown in the miserable reality of the freezing stairs.
Finally, the angle of the floor leveled out.
The stairs ended. I stepped onto flat, damp earth. The air here was slightly warmer, thick with the heavy scent of old bones and wet soil.
I am at the bottom, I told him, keeping my left hand on the wall to guide my path.
Head north, Klaus instructed, the tension returning to his mental voice. The catacombs are a maze. Keep the wall to your right. Do not turn.
I followed his instructions, walking blindly through the pitch-black tunnels. The silence here was absolute, lacking even the dripping water of the Abyssal Dungeon.
Then, I heard it.
A faint, rhythmic scraping sound echoing from the tunnel ahead.
I froze instantly, pressing my back flat against the dirt wall. I tightened my grip on the iron dagger, my heart hammering a violent warning against my ribs.
Nerissa? Klaus asked, sensing the sudden, sharp spike of terror in my chest.
Someone is down here, I pushed back, holding my breath.
The scraping sound grew louder. It was the sound of heavy boots dragging across the uneven earth. A faint, flickering orange light appeared around the bend in the tunnel ahead, casting long, dancing shadows across the damp walls.
I crouched low, hiding in the thickest part of the darkness, raising the iron dagger.
A figure stepped around the corner, holding a sputtering torch.
It was a man, wearing the ruined, blood-soaked uniform of an Imperial servant. He was limping heavily, clutching his side. But it wasn't the uniform that made my breath catch in my throat. It was the face.
He had pale skin, sharp features, and terrified, wide brown eyes.
I slowly stood up from the shadows.
"Rook?" I whispered, my voice a dry, disbelieving rasp.
The young servant who had brought me food in the East Wing, the boy who had given me the velvet cloak before the Emperor threw me in the arena, flinched violently. He raised the torch, the orange light catching the blood on my face and the heavy iron cuffs on my wrists.
"My lady?" Rook gasped, his eyes widening in absolute shock. "You... you are alive."
I lowered the dagger slightly, stepping into the torchlight. "What are you doing down here, Rook? The Emperor sealed the upper levels."
Rook let out a shaky, terrified breath, leaning heavily against the dirt wall. "The Citadel is in chaos, my lady. When the Throne Room locked down, the commanders ordered a purge of the serving staff. They think we helped you. They are slaughtering everyone in the lower barracks."
A cold wave of horror washed over me. The Emperor was taking his fear out on the innocent.
"I ran," Rook confessed, tears spilling over his pale cheeks. "I knew about the catacombs. I was trying to find a way to the sea caves."
I looked at the terrified boy, and then I looked down the dark tunnel leading north. I was exhausted. I was starving. I had nothing left to give.
But I was the Queen of the Sea. And Queens do not let their people bleed in the dark.
I walked over to Rook. I didn't offer comfort. I didn't have the softness left for it. I looked him dead in the eye, the cold, abyssal authority hardening my voice.
"You are going to show me the way to the barracks, Rook," I commanded, gripping the iron dagger tight. "And then, we are going to burn this Empire to the ground."