“I don’t think I have a choice.”
She bent to investigate the tunnel. “I can’t see.”
“It’s straight for about thirty feet, and then it curves right until you’re out.”
She still paused.
Christian sighed impatiently. He crawled into the opening. “Make sure you shut the grate behind you. Make sure it’s closed.” It was smaller than he remembered. He had been a boy when he had last used this exit. The ground was cold and moist. He knew she wasn’t going to like this. He couldn’t tell if she was following him. He had to assume she was.
Willow watched Christian’s booted feet disappear into the opening. She stood up, weighing her options. She could face the armed men in the hallway if they were still there. Maybe they had given up finding her. Her father and Raven were in the chateau. She could locate them and tell them what had happened to Sage and Brother Nicolas. It was a good idea. And getting into that small, dark hole was so much less appealing. Even if Christian was in there.
Suddenly, footsteps sounded in the corridor.
Her choice was made. She ducked and entered the darkness. She remembered Christian’s words and paused to swing the grate closed behind her. Just as it snapped shut, she saw the leader, guard, and the man with no eyebrows peer into the room. When they saw their slain man on the ground, they entered. She turned and crawled after Christian. He was far ahead of her.
If she ducked her head and hunched her shoulders, she found she could slither on her knees and arms. The ground was slick and wet. It was completely black. Prickles of trepidation danced along her shoulders, but she pushed herself forward, holding onto the book Brother Nicolas had given her. She paused to place the book into her armor for safekeeping. Then, she looked ahead, but there was no light, no sign of what was before her.
She wasn’t sure where this tunnel was going or where they would emerge, but she knew she couldn’t go back. Not with those men after her. They weren’t Templar Knights. Whoever they were, Christian had known the man he killed.
And Sage. Why would Marcus kill Brother Nicolas and take Sage? Brother Nicolas had said it was because he thought she could decode the book. But she couldn’t! Again, guilt settled on Willow’s shoulders. If only she hadn’t stolen the book! What would Marcus do when he found out Sage couldn’t translate it?
Her arm came down on something furry. It squealed and scurried away. She almost cried out but kept her lips firmly clenched.
Fear descended around her like darkness. What if the tunnel never ended? What if she was trapped alone?
Think about Sage. Willow paused and took a deep breath. She put one arm in front of the other and slowly moved forward again. This was all because of that book. Where had Christian gotten it? That must hold a clue to what was in it.
Her hands brushed something leather. She reached out, searching. It was a boot. “Christian?” she whispered.
“I waited for you to catch up,” he answered softly.
She inhaled another deep breath, so very grateful he had waited. So thankful she was not alone.
He moved forward, and she followed, making sure her fingers were able to feel his booted feet before her. She heard him wriggling and shuffling through the small tunnel ahead of her. The air was thick and damp.
Finally, she saw the light at the end of the tunnel. Christian was a shadow in front of her against the brightness, shifting from side to side toward the opening. Relief coursed through her, and all she wanted to do was hurry to be out of the dark.
Christian stopped as they reached the opening. A barred metal gate blocked their exit. He shoved with his hand against the bars.
But the grate did not move.
To their left, Willow observed the sun casting a red hue over the grassy landscape. She couldn’t see what Christian was doing. She heard him grunting. Something was wrong.
“It’s blocked,” he said.
“I thought this was the way Brother Marcus took Sage.”
“It is. He lodged a large boulder against the opening. We have to go back.”
No. She was not going to crawl all the way to the chateau in the dark. She wriggled over Christian’s back toward the grate.
“What are you doing?” he objected.
“I want to see it.”
“You can’t do anything—ow!” It was a tight squeeze, and she had accidentally elbowed him in the back. “Wait. Will, wait.” He turned sideways so she could fit next to him.
Her hip pressed against his groin, but she ignored the intimate brush to look through the bars. He was right. A large boulder blocked the opening, preventing the grate from swinging open. She moved forward to thrust her face to the bars to determine if they could use anything to pry the boulder aside.
