“Do some of the staff have orders to keep lanterns burning down here?” Fel pointed at the light.
“No. There are some other tunnels above these that the family uses to get around when they don’t want to be seen?—”
“—or to foolishly go places without their bodyguards,” Fel grumbled in a tone that suggested that had happened during his time working with Nyvia.
“Yes. Those are more often used, but, even then, nobody leaves lanterns burning all the time. Someone is down here.”
“Right.”
“The hidden chamber is that way.” Syla pointed toward one of the tunnels that disappeared around a bend, and Fel took the lead again.
He paused when they heard a distantclink. The metal of a sword or other weapon hitting one of the stone walls? Syla didn’t know, but it was so quiet underground that any noise stood out. It had seemed to come from the direction they were going.
Probably thinking the same, Fel loaded a quarrel in his crossbow before continuing on, the tunnel sloping downward after the bend, taking them deeper into the bluff under the castle. They were, Syla was fairly certain, heading away from the harbor and the sea. One of the tunnels at the intersection they’d passed led to an underground lagoon that always had a boat in it, one seaworthy enough for the royal family to escape in if need be. On the way back, she would look to see if the boat had been taken, if anyone had slipped away.
Fortunately, there weren’t many places one could turn, so the tunnels weren’t a confusing maze. Had they been, Syla would have struggled to remember the way since it had been years since her parents had shown her these passages. As it was, she could easily have missed the hidden entrance that led to the shielder. The stone door matched the tunnel wall and was set dozens of yards before the passageway ended at an ancient catacomb from a timewhen burials had been more common than the current day’s funeral pyres. But… the door to the hidden tunnel stood open. And lights burned in that direction.
Syla stared, a feeling of ominous foreboding filling her. Maybe it was silly since she’d logicallyknownsomeone had been down here, sabotaging the shielder, but seeing the evidence was still unnerving. Thoughts that the magic of the device had simply failed after so many centuries departed her mind.
“Whoever did it may still be down here.” Fel stepped through the doorway but didn’t yet continue on, instead regarding her grimly over his shoulder.
“Are you thinking again about how I’m a pain in the ass?”
“No, that I wish more of the bodyguard contingent were here so I could have someone watch you in a safe spot while I investigate.”
“Oh, I see. Does that mean your knee is feeling better?” Syla smiled but lamented that he considered her to be in the way, or at least a burden that was keeping him from a greater duty.
“It’s feeling dreadful, but other concerns are distracting me.”
She touched her chest and raised her eyebrows.
“Exactly. Stay close.”
Shoulders set, Fel continued forward.
She glanced toward the end of the passageway, the catacomb that they hadn’t yet checked, again having that feeling of being watched, but what could she do? Check it out on her own? No, thank you. She hurried to catch up with Fel and his mace and crossbow.
“There’s another catacomb at the end of this passage,” she said, “and the shielder is—or should be—mounted in the center, placed close to protect the tombs of the first kings and queens of the kingdom.”
Fel nodded without glancing back, his attention remaining forward.
“Also, it would have taken someone with a moon-mark to open that door.” Syla tilted her thumb over her shoulder, wondering if he’d seen her open the entrance under the stage.
“I figured there had to have been an insider involved,” he said.
“A, uhm,veryinsider. There are only a few people who have moon-marks and also know about these tunnels.” Her direct family members, essentially. She doubted even a close relation, like Aunt Tibby, who’d worked around the capital her whole life, and had visited the castle countless times, had been given the family secrets.
Fel only nodded again.
After another two dozen silent steps, they entered a circular chamber, a single lantern burning near the closest sarcophagus. It was one of twelve, the stone burial places curved to fit along the walls, elaborate statues and chiseled tablets adorning each tomb. The sarcophagi created numerous nooks where people might hide, but Syla’s gaze was drawn to a woman’s legs sticking out from behind the thirteenth sarcophagus, the only one in the center of the chamber. A pale blue dress was tangled around those legs, blood spattering the fabric and floor around.
Whoever it was had to be dead, and Syla rested her hand on the wall for support while mentally bracing herself for the identification. Her middle sister, Venia, favored dresses over the trousers that their warrior-trained sister, Nyvia, liked. Even though Syla hadn’t spent a lot of time studying Venia’s legs, her gut churned with a certainty that she couldn’t logically have yet. The memory of Venia, seven years her elder, trying to teach her how to properly drink sageberry tea while testing her on the geography of the kingdom came to mind, a day that had stuck with Syla because it had been the first that she’d memorized everything sufficiently enough to satisfy her demanding sister. Venia had rewarded her with candied walnuts from Orchard Island.
Syla rubbed her face, pushing away the memory andreminding herself that she couldn’t be distracted, not here. They weren’t alone.
Fel had to have seen the body, but he hadn’t yet moved. His gaze was roving around the sarcophagi—doubtless checking the nooks, though they wouldn’t be able to see into all the shadowy corners until they walked toward the center of the chamber. His instincts had to be telling him that danger lurked, and Syla didn’t doubt that it did. The sensation of being watched wouldn’t go away.
Beyond the central sarcophagus and the body was the shielder. Sitting within its mount, the eight-foot silver orb represented the moon, including the two craters that people called eyes. Comprised of silver branches, the top and bottom of the mount stretched upward and downward, disappearing into the floor and ceiling. Supposedly, those branches not only supported the orb but were conduits for its magic, sending its power out to protect the island from all sides.
