The Serenader

Chapter 10

Calya's POV
"Not so fast."

Atlas' words stood firm, like the way our father's always did, the way the king's orders simply could not be questioned. The fact that Atlas was picking up on such leadership qualities was somehow both comforting and unsettling.

"We can't leave until nightfall," Atlas proceeded to explain. "But until then, we can plan everything out."

And so we did. After we decided we would leave through the kitchen tunnel, Atlas showed me the letter Lyle had given him. It contained a map - a wrinkled, old map, but a map just the same. He pointed out exactly where we would turn and what paths we would follow and what landmarks we would see if we hadn't gone astray. It all led up to this one tiny little cottage in the woods, woods not owned by any region. The safe haven, as our father worded it. That should have seemed like a good sign, yet the fact that we needed a safe haven at all suggested something pretty ominous. After all, the reason Atlas was going to the cottage in the first place was to resolve this new issue. I was just tagging along due to poor timing. That, and our father trusted Atlas to look after me.

All too soon, night had fallen. Atlas and I snuck down the back corridors of the castle and into the kitchen entrance of the passage. My heart thudded hard against my chest. The halls should have been deserted - that was why we left now instead of any earlier - but they weren't completely. Every time we saw someone, every time we heard footsteps, my own fear would triple - once from myself and then once more from Atlas. And every time that happened, I was reminded how I had gotten myself sent away from the castle in the first place.

Amidst all of that, I worried about Lyle. In a world full of Illusionists, telling one person a secret could be as good as announcing it at a public hearing. Now that Atlas and I knew the truth about him, he would think about it differently. All it would take from there was one click in my father's mind, or Blythe's, or Juliette's, or any other Illusionist's. Then it would be all over for Lyle, for Finn, for them trying to hide. Secrets were dangerous in this world we lived in. Atlas and I hadn't even left the castle grounds yet, but I was already anxious about what I would do when we returned.

With both of our strengths combined, Atlas and I pulled open the trap door in the corner of the kitchen, the only place we could count on being deserted at this time of night. Atlas struck a match and held it down into the hole. Through the light, I noticed a plate of four yeast rolls someone had left out. I wrapped them in a napkin and shoved them in my pack.

Then I turned my attention back to the tunnel. Despite the match that provided some light, the gap in the floor was nearly pitch black. I could just barely make out the presence of a ladder - rough stone steps carved right into the side of one of the walls.

"I'll go first," Atlas decided, with no objection from me. Snuffing out the match, he began his descent. I waited, noting how strangely fearless he was with all of this going on. And it wasn't just that he was shielding his fear from me. No, he was actually calm. That made me wonder about what he had experienced when he was away. How had the Navy changed him?

Eons later, the thud of boots on hard ground was a welcome relief. Atlas had made it.

I waited for him to call for me, but he didn't. After a few moments, I realized that was because he didn't want to make any noise. Who knew who or what was lurking down there? He was waiting for me to come down on my own terms. I peered down. It was like looking down a well, I noticed - that's how narrow and deep it was. Holding my breath, I stepped onto the first rung.

Descending a ladder in complete darkness is frightening, especially when the ladder consists of rough stone slabs carved out of a wall. Several of them were misplaced or chipping right underneath my feet. My breathing sped up. I was just waiting for the time the rung wouldn't be there at all and I would plummet to the ground. But that never happened. Not nearly soon enough, my feet were back on solid ground.