“They’re all servants’ tunnels to different sections of the castle. I don’t know most of them; Luna only had time to show me the ones she believed I needed to know.”
“And all the servants were involved,” I murmured.
“Almostall of them.”
I recalled the blonde woman I’d knocked out on the steps to the garden. The woman wasn’t Luna; it had been years since I last saw her, but I would have recognized her.
If she was one of the earl’s servants, that would explainwhyshe looked so familiar to me. I’d probably seen her with one of the trays or helping to set up the chairs and food.
“Shit,” I muttered.
“We don’t have much further. Most of these tunnels wind throughout the castle, but only one leads outside.”
“Why would the earl create a tunnel that led outside and let others know about it? That would leave him vulnerable to an attack.”
“He didn’t create it.”
Understanding dawned. “The servants built the exit.”
It hadn’t been a question, but Callan responded anyway. “Yes.”
“And the earl and his guards were too good to come down into these tunnels to see if anything unusual was happening.”
“Yes.”
“How long did it take them to build the exit?”
“Less than a week.”
“And how long has it been there?” I asked.
“About a week.”
“So, it was built for this uprising?”
“Yes.”
“And how much time did they spend on planning that?”
“I think most have been plotting his death since they started working here. So, for some, it could be centuries.”
“Wow. The earl’s servants really despised him.”
“He wasn’t always kind to them.”
That wasn’t surprising, given they’d plotted to kill him. Unfortunately, they hadn’t plotted well enough.
The thud of feet behind us jerked my head around as they pounded down the rock floor. If Ryker had figured out where I’d gone, he’d come for me, but this wasn’t him. The steps were too heavy and loud; even in a rush to get to me, he’d never move like that.
When I looked at Callan, I saw the panic in his green eyes and realized how vulnerable I was again. I’d lost my sword somewhere above, and while Callan held a small sword, I wasn’t sure how adept he was at using it.
And as two guards rounded the corner and barreled toward us, I realized it wouldn’t do much good against them. They each held swords as they raced forward.
The determination etching their features, and the bloodthirsty air surrounding them, told me they’d strike me down as well as Callan. They wouldn’t stop to ask questions or wonder what I was doing with him; they sought blood.
If we didn’t do something soon, we were going to die.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
