The cries ring out again, and I gasp lightly, putting my hand over my mouth. They sound like… Like me. Not specifically just like me, but mortal with a fear that permeates into their souls. My first instinct is to run toward them, to help them, but I know better, especially after Willem spoke to me earlier that day. But they can't be souls, and they can't be mortals. How would mortals even get here? Kane must have trapped some sort of creature down below. Something calling out, the echoes bending the sound to mimic mortal voices.
I find solace in my understanding. My fear begins to dissipate and I once more step toward the stairwell. I put my hand up on the doorframe, and the sounds ring out again, only this time much louder. This time it cannot be mistaken for some small animal or beast. The voices are human, mortal, and I can sense it all the way from the top of the steps. They cry out in fear and sadness. They call each other's names, they pray to the gods, and they call out for help. The entire Underworld stops, and I stand perfectly still, my fingers digging into the stone. My mouth hangs slightly open and I want to cry out, but nothing comes out. Nothing is released. I'm frozen in my own fear.
I need to help them, I need to find Willem. I close my eyes for a moment and take in a deep breath, trying to calm myself, trying to find my movements again. After a few moments of silence, I manage to lift my feet, but as I turn, my body runs right into Kane. My hands go up and catch myself on his chest and I stumble backward, grabbing onto the frame of the archway to keep myself from tumbling down the stairs. Kane reaches out and grabs my wrist pulling me back to my feet. I expect his face to be angry, enraged, but he looks at me with calmness.
I cannot hide my fear in that moment, my chin quivering, my eyes trying to focus in the dim light. He tilts his head slightly to the right, a sinister grin on his lips. "I was just thinking about you."
"Oh…" It was all that I could get out.
He waves his hand toward the stairwell. "Since you're here, I wondered if you might join me for a tour."
I stutter through my words. "I thought you didn't believe I was ready for that yet."
He lifts his shoulders, a look of whimsy and excitement on his face. "I think things have changed. I think I've changed my mind. Besides, who better to share my joy and excitement with then my own bride-to-be. Come, we have much to talk about."
I don't like how he says that, and I want to run off, keep running, straight out of the Underworld, but I can't. I have to endure his company, and I have to keep up the ruse that I'm on his side. So, with a strong deep breath I take his arm and carefully we descend down the winding stone staircase to the bottom. When we emerge, I find the room enormous, dimly lit, with stone statues running up one side and down the other. I'm not really even sure how the place is so big considering the size of the castle.
"Where are we?" I ask.
He keeps his hand tightly on mine, as if he's keeping me from running away. "These are the crypts. These are the burial places for the gods, goddesses, and demigods that have met their match and exited this world. But don't worry little mortal they can't hurt you anymore, they're all dead. But that's not what I wanted to show you. Hurry, just up ahead."
Nervously I lick my lips, but I move with him as if I had any other choice. I find myself clinging to his arm, not at all liking the dim spaces and the smell of death beneath. The sounds of the cries break louder as we approach an area decorated with dozens of candles and torches sitting in large metal canisters filled with stones. It's very well lit. On a dark onyx slab is Drogaem's body draped in cloth. I carefully put my hand over my nose, trying to block the smell of rotting flesh. It's a smell I didn't notice from Drogaem's body when we brought him back. It's a smell that can only mean one thing, and that's a death.
Behind the slab, the shadows are deep and only flickers of light dance across the walls. I narrow my eyes and step forward, seeing movement within the shadows. I walk around Drogaem's body and stand at the edge, trying to peer into what feels like a fog of darkness. Out of nowhere, a hand lurches from the dark and grabs me by the ankle. I stumble back, shaking my leg, falling to the ground. Above me, Kane laughs, but I pry the dirty and scraped fingers from my skin. I scoot back far enough to be out of reach and pick myself from the ground. As I dust off my cloak, Kane grabs one of the torches and walks toward the shadow. He snaps his fingers and the area becomes lighter, his shadow scurrying off in different directions.
My mouth drops open as I stare at what he is hiding. Three mortals huddled together in the corner, their rags of clothing dirty and torn, their hair a mess, and cuts and abrasions dug into their flesh. They are being held captive, and the way that Kane looks at them is as if he were a child looking at a new plaything. They shudder when they see him, barely letting out small whines
