Page 116 of Reap & Sow

Eda consulted the legend. “Another level beneath. Another chamber.”

They looked at one another.

“Enough blabbering, humans!” Tripp’s eyes reflected like red coals in the dark. “Which way?”

With some difficulty, Eda gave Tripp a heading, hoping she hadn’t mistaken their location on the map. They’d come down via the sewer grate near the tannery, since she knew it was close enough to Lich’s guildhall. But the map would have to guide them the rest of the way.

Stopping and starting, they cut along channels and down side tunnels, checking off those areas marked on the parchment. But none of the tiny vestibules had been fashioned into secure rooms, and none housed anything but cobwebs and rat droppings. Struck with fear of being caught, Eda envisioned one of Lich’s vassals stumbling upon them, drawn by the echo of their footsteps. There was no mantle to shield her now. Their only real defense was Tripp’s superior senses. He made his way confidently through the dark, bat-like ears pricking at every little sound.

When he stopped dead, Eda nearly tripped over him. “What…” Then she saw.

They stood before a narrow set of ascending steps that disappeared into a yawning tunnel of shadow. Somewhere above, fire flickered. If lanterns are lit, people are nearby.

“Is this it?” Ben whispered.

The map showed a staircase leading to the middle of Lich’s private corridor. “I think so.”

Barely daring to breathe, they ascended. Every noise seemed terribly loud, but they heard no voices, saw no moving shadows.

Tripp reached the top first. “No one here.”

It smelled fresher in these parts, far removed from the fetid water channels. The walls were dry, if not cold. The corridor was barely big enough for two men to walk abreast. Torches had been lit at even intervals along its length. To the left was an iron door. Lich’s office. To the right, a foreboding gate. The exit to the surface. And whatever lies beneath.

“What’s the betting it’s locked?”

They hurried down the walkway and crowded about the gate. It was silver-plated iron, with a sizable double lock. Beyond lay a wide shaft tunneling down into the stone, a generous spiral staircase installed at its center. The stairs were clearly far newer than the shaft itself. She’d been right to think Severin Lich would not deign to traverse rickety wet ladders.

Ben shook the gate half-heartedly. “No getting in by force.”

Eda pressed against the bars and peered upward. A thin, square band of light shone overhead. “That’s the exit hatch, I suppose. The Gateway has to be below.”

“Won’t know without getting through.”

Tripp bounded back down the corridor.

“Tripp!” she hissed, following. “Tripp. Don’t get too close to that door—”

But he already had.

Eda stopped several feet away, not daring to approach.

Ben bumped into her. “What’s he doing? He’ll get us caught!”

Tripp waved his hand in a bid for quiet. He pressed his ear against the iron. After a moment, he grinned and held up a single knobbly finger. One. One person inside?

He urged them closer. Eda stepped as lightly as she could, clinging to Ben. What? she mouthed at the imp.

Be ready, he mouthed back, black eyes glittering with excitement.

Then he dragged his claws, screeching, against the metal.

Eda reeled. Ben huffed in shock and drew his sword. That little bastard! She pulled her knife from her boot. Nothing happened. Tripp did it again.

Muffled movement. What if it was Lich himself? Who else could it be?

The sound of a low voice, a key turning in a lock—

The door swung open. A dark figure leaned through.