Page 13 of Wolf Trap

“All of them. Can you help?”

“Then what?”

“We have an escape plan.”

“I will help you. The father of wolves, if this is his choosing, you can count on me. This place is a godforsaken nightmare.”

Lycaon released the rope and the anchor. I watched as it hurled up and lodged on the rim of the dungeon roof. He stepped back, pulled on it, and it tumbled back. We scattered as the metal frame came hurtling towards us.

Dolph offered, “Allow me to try. It would give me great pleasure to get out of this shit hole.”

This time it caught. Pulling on it, Dolph stepped back and handed it to Lycaon.

“There are no guards. No one has ever escaped. Well,” he looked past us to where we’d entered, “no shifter anyway. And I’m guessing any vampires that got through to where you came would be swept out to sea?”

“I don’t think vampires can live if their lungs are full of saltwater…”

I watched as Lycaon scurried up the rope, the bricks at the top crumbling against his weight. He leaned over. “Elsa, grab on!”

Without asking, Dolph hitched me up on the rope. I squeaked in shock, then, “Thanks! Appreciated.”

He raised me up a quarter of the way. I’m not used to having to lift my own weight.

Gripping with my boots, I lifted my right hand higher, only to find Lycaon just pulling me up.

You’ve got to love shifters.

Outside of that dungeon, I was grateful for the sweeter air. It still stank, but compared to that hellhole… it was almost like a spring garden after rain.

Throwing the rope back over, Lycaon whispered, “Dolph!”

I saw Lycaon bend his legs, straddled, as he pulled the huge shifter up. Credit to Dolph, for a big man, he moved up that rope pretty fast. Scrambling over the ridge, I now saw the magnitude of Dolph. From what he’d said, he didn’t change into a wolf, but the amalgamation of the man-beast. Otherwise, he’d be the size of a dire-wolf. His skin gleamed with sweat.

Holding out an outstretched hand to Lycaon he said, “Thank you.” He glanced at me. “And you are Elsa? I won’t tell another soul what I heard in there. We’re on the same side. Can you show me your map? I can navigate a little here.”

I handed it to him and looked about the empty chamber.

The brick roof arched low. Peering around the corner, another tunnel. Ahead were two doors, and what looked like another passageway.

“Dolph, are there any more down here?”

He handed me back the scrap of paper, his voice almost rumbling through me. “No, not that I’ve heard.” Both he and Lycaon jutted up their chins, sniffing the air.

I was eager to move. “Through there are some doorways?”

He cast a veiled glance at me. “Torture rooms. We could look, but usually those that go in there never return. Adara. They’re less active during the day, the oldest ones, the bloodsuckers, prefer to move at night, even though they can move in daylight. But… They have beasts, like me, guarding the place. Understand this, Lycaon, these creatures are not like you and me. They can no longer reason. They have wiped their memories of mortal life away with torture, cruelty. If we encounter them, we need to kill them swiftly.” Dolph’s eyes settled on me. “Take care of the girl. Even with powerful magic, she cannot withstand them. Adara has spells far beyond the average witch or mage. And they have imbued their guardians with this. We need weapons, come on.”

Slowly, we edged out of the room and made our way to one of the two doors. His ear to the door, Dolph listened whilst Lycaon crouched, sniffing the ground. Whispering, he looked up to the shifter, “Empty. We might find something to use as a weapon, though?”

“Agreed.”

The handle was locked, so Dolph simply leaned into the door frame, held the handle and used his weight to snap the hinges. It worked, and he quietly placed the door against the wall.

As Lycaon stepped through, his eyes scanning the room fast, he put out his hand and said, “Stay here. Keep watch.”

I didn’t want to, but the stench that came from the room convinced me not to argue. My heart pounded as I tried to calm myself. I looked again at the map.

All the Oubliettes were on the ground floor. I could see three marked on the paper. That made sense, as they were basically holes in the ground. Though in medieval times some were built inside of walls, so that the prisoner would hear all the normal castle activity but not be heard themselves. A tingle of disgust shuddered through me.

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