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He tilted his head toward the wooden antechamber door.
“Isn’t Mountainside afraid of what we’ll do if we’re loose?”
Sten shrugged.
Clive looked to Merwin again, whose eyes were glued to Sten.
“What’s with him?” Clive murmured.
“Don’t know, don’t care. If he’s letting us out, then we get the fuck out before he changes his mind.”
“Do you think he’s fucking with us?”
“Let’s find out.” Merwin pushed forward. “Whatever’s going on has to be better than staying locked up in there indefinitely. Besides, there’s two of us. We can take him.”
Clive followed Merwin out. “Think so? This is Sten we’re talking about here.”
Merwin eyed their liberator, then followed his lead out of the antechamber. “Maybe.”
Where the fuck are the guards?
He led them in the opposite direction from the steps that would lead up and out.
Instead, he guided them along several tunnels, each darker than the last, to a door tucked away in a corner of the dungeon, behind an abandoned store room.
He pulled a gold key from his pocket, muttered something, and unlocked this door.
It swung open, and cooler air hushed toward them.
The doorway was nothing but a black rectangle against the darkness of the underground room.
Sten stepped back, waiting for them to proceed.
Even with their acute dragon vision, they couldn’t see much.
“Flashlight?” Merwin prompted.
He shook his head.
“Asshole,” Clive muttered, following Merwin across the threshold.
He gulped, hoping there wasn’t a mile-long drop ten feet in.
He didn’t hear the door close. Just the click of the key turning in the lock.
“Fucker.”
“Just keep going,” Merwin growled. “Either we get out, or we die forgotten down here.”
“Not fucking comforting, Merwin.”
“Shut up, Clive. Walk or don’t. I’m going.”
At least their cell had been lit.
I fucking hate the dark.
And being alone.
