Page 115 of Reaper's Quest

Winter insisted on playing the part of the gentleman, and after grabbing something in the stockroom that he stuffed in his pocket, he held a fire torch high to light the way and led the descent into the lower tunnels. A lot more than gentlemanly behavior would be required to earn my forgiveness over withholding information, but for Chace’s sake, I would temporarily table my frustrations.

How many days had he been missing? Had he been trapped in a cage the entire time?

At the base of the stairs, Winter grabbed an unlit torch from the wall, ignited the flame, and handed it to me. He presented his hand, palm up, indicating the direction we intended to travel.

Because a left turn at the base of the stairs would lead to the citadel’s outer wall, we made a right and worked our way deeper into the underbelly of the city.

A faint odor akin to death and decay accompanied the dark passages. The scent filled my nostrils and rankled my senses. I could only imagine what surprises waited for us in the blackened spaces. The rotted flesh of vermin, for one.

Even as I had the thought, a rat scurried past.

A gentle breeze, weighted with heat, slid across my skin and extracted sweat from my glands.

I pushed my hair back from my face. “Unusually warm for underground tunnels, don’t you think?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Winter’s voice sounded soft and low, as if he meant to keep our conversation a secret from theno onearound us.

We reached a junction—offering a choice—and Winter shined the torchlight down each tunnel in turn. Neither option provided much evidence as to what we might expect to find beyond the limited illumination. And according to Aoes, both continued onward to nowhere. I noted a few side chambers, but nothing to get excited about.

I considered my memory of the dream: Watcher, Camilla’s child, the cavern connected to the tunnels. Nothing I could recall indicated where under the citadel I might have dream walked. I chewed on my lower lip and studied theoptions. No clear path became evident. We might as well toss a coin to decide our continued direction.

Winter pulled a piece of chalk from his pocket and marked the wall with an arrow. A sign to help us find our way back to the pub.

I opened my mouth to ask him if he always carried chalk with him when he glanced over his shoulder at me.

“Stockroom procurement.” He waved the stick of chalk. “Now, remind me what we’re looking for again?”

“A location matching Myla’s drawing. I think…pray…that’s where we’ll find Chace.”

And quite possibly the mad female sucking life and whatever else from young girls. Hopefully Watcher didn’t do the same to Chace.

I wasn’t yet sure if I really wanted to find Watcher, but if I stayed in the citadel long enough to complete my reaper’s assignment—which was beginning to look like a forever-long task—I would eventually need to deal with that problem.

Winter sighed through his nose and turned his ear toward the passage at our left. Listened. I did the same. A soft click and scuttle echoed off the walls, the likely travels of an unseen rodent.

“And you’re basing this search of yours on Myla’s scribbled art?” he asked.

What would he think if I told him about my “perceived” dream? I grimaced and wiped the sweat from my brow. I didn’t want to lie, but neither did I want to tell the truth.

“Sort of. Not entirely.”

“Am I allowed to ask what falls into the larger realm behind this push you’re pursuing?”

I shook my head and extended my torch-holding hand as if to brighten the tunnel. He would get nothing more from me. I had already crossed one of my lines allowing him to accompany me…despite my temporary urge to scythe him. And the urgewastemporary.

He wasn’t privy to what I was or what I had to do. Nor should he be. Filling him in on my fever-induced dreams or the Killian was not ideal. It might even be dangerous for him, given the mad female Watcher and the state of his citadel.

The light of the flickering flame cast a collection of long shadows and bright streaks across his face, making him appear angry.

“I might be able to help you better if you shared more information,” he pushed.

“Are you familiar with this tunnel system? The catacombs?”

His shoulders slumped. “I already told you I wasn’t.”

“Then there’s no point.” I stepped past him, chose a direction, and took the tunnel on the right.

Aoes had suggested the tunnel on the left likely continued along the perimeter, so I hoped the right path would take us closer to the center. Only…was the center of the system what I truly wanted? It felt correct in my gut, but the only thing that could possibly affirm that sensation would be to find Chace.