walls were pocked with holes, possibly to hold shelves, and the floor was littered with dirt, tree branches, and withered leaves. Hirsch paused at the bottom of the steps to catch his breath, and Josey felt ashamed. The adept was pushing himself too hard. Don’t crumple! Honor his loyalty with strength.
More wet patches formed a trail across the cellar. Leaving the adept with Hubert, Josey followed Captain Drathan and his men to investigate. As she came up behind the soldiers, she realized Major Volek and the sergeant had come with her. She’d grown so accustomed to the presence of bodyguards that she hadn’t registered the footsteps behind her, which was a little unnerving. She smiled to the major, and he returned a brief nod.
Her guards stood around a hole in the wall. Bricks and chunks of mortar were piled on the floor in front of the aperture, which was big enough to accommodate a man. Beyond the hole extended what looked like a tunnel through solid rock extending as far as she could see. Josey’s mind boggled to comprehend the amount of labor that must have been required.
“This can’t be the work of the assassin, can it?” she asked.
Captain Drathan held his lantern higher. “This would take a team of engineers months to dig out. It’s… I don’t know what to make of it.”
“-combs.”
Master Hirsch shuffled up to stand beside Josey.
“What did you say, Master Hirsch?” she asked.
The adept coughed into his hand. “Catacombs. Carved from a system of caves under the city.”
“Who made them?”
“ Why did they make them?” Captain Drathan asked.
Hirsch wheezed as he inhaled through his nose. “Predecessors of the modern… Church found the”-he coughed again-“caves and used them to meet in secret. Later… they enlarged them to bury their dead where they would not be… disturbed.”
Josey remembered from her catechism that the Church had been outlawed by the empire at one time. Tolerance came eventually and the True Faith had spread, but this was the first she’d heard of catacombs under Othir. It bothered her that something like this could be hidden from common knowledge.
“Why would they believe that their dead were not safe in the boneyard?”
“Your ancestors.” The adept nodded to Josey. “They ordered the remains of those who worshipped the upstart Prophet to be removed from their graves, wherever they were found… and thrown into the Memnir. A heinous desecration in those times.”
Josey peered through the crack. The walls of the tunnel were unfinished, as was the floor. “Master Hirsch, are you well enough to lead us?”
“My men and I can go first, sir,” Captain Drathan said.
“Thank you, Captain. But no, this falls under my purview.”
Holding onto the rough edges, Hirsch stepped through the hole. The palace guards went next, with everyone else following. Their footsteps echoed down the tunnel like the march of a gigantic, shambling beast. Josey stayed near Hubert and his lantern. The closeness of the stone walls didn’t bother her as much as she had thought it would. In a way, the tunnel reminded her of the terrifying voyage through the city sewers with Caim, him bleeding all over her. But she had survived that nightmare and found strength in it. She wanted to think she wasn’t the same sheltered little girl she had once been.
Then Josey muffled a yelp with her hand as something skittered over her foot.
Captain Drathan spun around with his lantern over his head. “Majesty?”
She swallowed. It was just a rat. “I’m all right, Captain. Proceed.”
With a nod, he quickened his pace to catch up to Master Hirsch. The tunnel forked ahead of them. Without pausing, Hirsch headed down the branch to the right. As she passed the split, Josey glanced down the other direction. It was an identical tunnel as far as she could tell, running as far as the lanterns could reach. She shivered as she hurried after Hubert, who waited for her with a tight smile. It was cold down here, especially as they were soaking wet, but it wasn’t the cold that made her tremble. The thought of being trapped down here alone, without a light, jangled her nerves. To take her mind off it, she focused on the captain’s back.
They passed a smooth stone face set into the tunnel wall. Josey paused a moment, and Hubert stayed with her. It took her a moment to grasp that it was a grave marker. Dust filled the indentations of rigid characters carved into the stone. Hubert brushed away the accumulation, and Josey recognized the script as old Nimean. It listed a score or so names, and a number had been chiseled at the top of the stone-816. Josey reached out to trace the date. So much history, lost for centuries. What other secrets hide down here in the dark?
“Stirring, is it not?” Major Volek asked, standing beside her. “To think that on this spot, more than three hundred years ago, men and women who didn’t know if they would live to see another day gathered to mark the passage of their brothers and sisters into the Prophet’s arms.”
“Are you a religious man, Major?”
“Without the Light, how could we find our way in this dark world?”
Josey was surprised to hear such words from the stoic soldier. Sergeant Merts watched the exchange without reaction, as impassive as the stone around them. Josey and Hubert continued on, followed by the heavy trod of the soldiers’ boots.
The tunnel split again, and then again fifty paces or so after that. Each time, Hirsch chose the right branch, and Josey began to worry that the adept had lost his sense of direction. No. He’s gotten us this far. Have faith. But faith was an expensive commodity down here.
A few steps farther the tunnel widened, and Josey heard a sound in the darkness. A rhythmic plinking.
“Water.”
Hubert turned his head. “What?”
“Listen. It’s dripping water.” She reached out to the wall. The stone was slick with moisture. “We must be under the river.”
Hubert tapped his toe in a small puddle on the floor. “How far do these catacombs extend? Majesty, we should send a team down here to search for hidden ways into the city.”
Josey gave him a short nod, hiding her smile as she looked down the tunnel and began to hope that they were coming to the end of it. She stood on her tiptoes to look over Hubert’s shoulder. For a moment she thought she saw something in the shadows. A brief flicker of movement, too quick for her to be sure. She was about to forget it when a loud yell echoed from the front of the party.
Josey tried to push past Hubert, but she jumped when something from the ceiling bounced off her shoulder. She looked down to see a small rock on the floor. She looked up and didn’t have time to shout a warning before the world collapsed.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
The corridor zigzagged as Keegan shepherded his men through the castle. He waited until the last person entered the hallway before hustling back to the front.
You’re not fooling anyone, Keegan. They all know you’re not the leader type. They’re just humoring you, but when the shit storm hits you’ll be left all alone holding your pecker.
For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why Caim had chosen him to lead this mission. There were plenty of fighters here with more experience, like Vaner or Taun. Even Malig could do a better job, and he hardly talked except to complain.
Keegan thought about Dray, staying back with his brother. Would he do the same if it had been Liana? Just the thought of his sister shoved a burning spear point through his heart. He nodded to the men as he passed. Act like you know what you’re doing.
He was almost back to the head of the group when a shout reached him, followed by a fierce war cry. Keegan pushed through the press until he burst into a small room furnished with little more than a wooden table and chairs. One chair lay on its back beside the sprawled figure of a large man in a dyed cloak. The rest of the outlaws held back, looking in all directions. Only Vaner had the guts to approach the open door on the other side of the room, torch in hand.
