71

I unfurled the map in my mind. According to the chart, there was an entrance into the tunnel system just under the window at the far end of the hall. There, a landscape portrait hung on the wall beside the window—an image of the forest that was visible outside, and a fairly unimpressive rendering of it, at that. I’d thought it was just a boring decorative choice, like most of the decor in the Nightfall manor. Now I wondered if it had a purpose.

I leaned close to the painting, but it was just that: a painting. Dull trees, snow, a gray sky, a few wolf tracks visible in the snowbanks. I wrinkled my nose, leaning closer. There had to be a clue in the painting, something that would show me how to get into the tunnel system. I smoothed my hand over the frame. Did it move? Was there something behind it?

As I knelt down slightly to feel the bottom of the frame, a breeze whispered over my fingers.

There was something there. I knelt further, pressing my hand against the frame. There was a seam between the floor and the wall, where the cold air snuck in.

I traced my fingers along the seam, following it to the corner of the wall under the window. There, barely visible against the dark stone and still covered in dust, was a tiny switch. I grinned to myself. Hidden in plain sight. I glanced around the hall again. I was still alone. So I pressed the switch.

The wall shifted slightly with a clunk that echoed around the empty hall. I scrambled backward, coughing as the seam widened and spit out a spray of dust and dirt. It sounded, and looked, like no one had used this entrance to the tunnel in a long time.

I pushed the wall open. Behind it was darkness, and a narrow, dusty staircase leading down, down, down. I’d known the tunnels were underneath the manor, but seeing the descent in person made my stomach swoop with anxiety. I swallowed. At least there was a dusty old torch mounted on the wall. I’d have to hurry back into my quarters to get a match to light it—if it was still intact from years of disuse.

When I reached out to check the torch, to ensure the wick wasn’t disintegrated, magic crackled over my fingers.

I snatched my hand back like I’d been burned. I gasped, my eyes widening with shock as the torch flickered to life of its own accord. Atop the dusty wooden handle, behind a delicate glass encasing, a warm yellow light glowed and sparkled like a trapped star fluttering to escape. Then, more torches flickered to life along the staircase, one after another, like the torches were awakening each other in a chain. The lights glowed until the tunnel turned a corner at the end of the descent.

So no matches needed, I guessed. Curious, I reached for the torch again, and as my fingers neared it the magic danced around my fingers again. It was similar to what I’d felt in the artifacts room, like the magic was reaching out toward me.

Point of no return.

A thrill of anticipation raced through me. If I’d thought coming to Efra was exciting, this was, in a way, better. Because this was my decision—my exploration. However it ended, at least I’d done something for myself. And for Griffin. I was getting us out of this.

I stepped onto the landing and pulled the secret door closed behind me. The tunnel was silent, and even as the lights in the torches flickered and moved, they made no sound like a fire would. I made my way down, down, down, until I reached the end of the staircase. The silence was unnerving, pressing down on me like a weight. It was almost like being underwater. Was I yet underground? At the end of the stairs, the tunnel turned sharply to the left. It was on a grade, too—a slow, subtle decline.

There was only one way to go. A torch flickered to life at my shoulder. I began to walk.

And walk. And walk.

The tunnel seemed endless ahead of me, winding straight ahead without any turns or tunnels splitting off. That seemed to align with what I’d seen on the map, but the more time passed, the more I began to doubt it. How far had I gone? And how deep underground was I? I’d been descending slowly the entire time—had the tunnel system changed since the map had been drawn? Perhaps it’d be wiser to turn around, then risk stealing the map from the library. It’d be an unpleasant ascent, certainly, but the deeper underground I went the more my anxiety spiked.

After about a half hour of walking, I was moments from turning back when my nape prickled. My wolf sensed another presence. I didn’t know who it was, but after all this silent walking, finally we were approaching other wolves.

Then, in between two of the distantly placed lamps, a barely visible glow of light flickered from a crack in the wall.

A seam. Had I been missing doors this entire way? No—I would’ve sensed something, the same way my wolf was sensing another presence now. She was on high alert in the quiet of the tunnels. I

approached the seam carefully, my feet silent on the earthen floor of the tunnel. Then, carefully, I pressed my ear to the wall of the tunnel. Through the earth I could hear murmurs of voices, but nothing distinct enough to make out. There was someone there. Someone on the other side. The tunnels were still in use.

I had to be near the center of the manor by now. Was the space I’d seen marked on the map of the dungeons? The center of the entire tunnel system?

Gently ,I pushed on the wall. It gave much easier than I expected, clunking back like it had been waiting for my fingertips to activate it. With a clunk, it slid back, and light flooded the tunnel. I leaped back, eyes wide and wolf on alert. But no one barged into the tunnel to find me. The voices were still only murmurs.

I peeked into the space the door had created.