Page 78 of Reap the Night
He led me down a dark, narrow corridor, a flight of worn stone steps into darkness and musty chill, then through an arch that led to an iron grate with a door beyond it.
Hemlock pulled the grate back, and I winced at the scraping of metal on stone. The door swung in easily, and a gust of cold and surprisingly fresh air hit me in the face.
Hemlock ducked through, and I followed. There was a larger room beyond with two arches, more grates, and more doors.
“That’s strange…” Hemlock approached the arch to our left and fingered the padlock hanging from it. “I don’t recall there being a lock.”
“Ezekiel?”
“Hmmm, maybe. He can be paranoid. Maybe he was worried someone would enter the castle without his permission.”
“Then shouldn’t he have padlocked the other arch?” I pointed at the one to the right. “Isn’t that the one that leads out of the castle?”
“I doubt Ezekiel recalls which is which. He should have padlocked both.”
“It’s all right. We can head back.”
“Head back?” He gripped the padlock, a mischievous smile curving his lips. “I promised you a run…” There was a frizz and pop, and the padlock dropped to the ground with a clunk. “And a run you shall have.”
Had he used his power? Shit. “You’re not supposed to do that.”
“It’s a negligible amount. I can handle it.” There was another padlock on the door, and he dispensed with it also. “Are you ready?”
My body itched to run, to stretch, to act. I wasn’t used to sitting on my ass all day, and that’s pretty much what I’d done the past three. “Yes. I’m ready.”
He pushed open the door, and a soft glow lit up the darkness in the tunnel beyond. “Then let’s run.”
Chapter 29
The tunnels were lit periodically by motion sensor lighting which Hemlock explained Ordell had installed a few years ago while Ezekiel slept. Branwood was a mishmash of old and new, past and present, and I couldn’t help but wonder what our future held.
Despite our banter of earlier about who would be the faster, we kept pace with each other, running steadily, boots slapping on stone, breath warming our faces.
“We’ll be reaching the halfway point soon,” Hemlock said. “If you need a rest.”
“I’m…good.”
He chuckled, not even a little out of breath. I mean, I wasn’t too out of breath myself, but I was feeling the effect of exertion. He, however, sounded like he was lounging on a sofa.
“What’s at the…halfway point…anyway?”
“Old burrows,” he said. “The batlings sleep here when Ezekiel sleeps.”
“And when he’s awake?”
“They have roosts on the roof and in the bell towers.”
“You have a…bell tower?”
“It seems like you need a proper tour of Branwood. Once the curse is lifted, I’ll show you and…” He trailed off. “Or Ezekiel will show you…”
“You could both show me.”
He slid a glance my way, and I caught the yearning in that look, but it was brief, and we were running, just running. A companionable silence fell, just the thud of our feet and the panting of our breath. The tunnel widened and opened into a larger chamber that was so dimly lit I could barely make out the huge holes in the walls. The burrows, no doubt. An arch sat opposite—the tunnel’s continuation.
I took a step, and my boot hit something soft and squishy. I slipped, grabbing out for Hemlock to stop my fall.
He snagged me around the waist and against his frame as I stared at the dark mess beneath my shoe.
