Crowned in Crimson Cinders

Chapter 29: The Dungeons

The tunnels embraced me with a familiar, biting cold, just as I remembered. A ghost of a smile touched my lips, remembering the countless hours I'd spent down here as a child, meticulously mapping every hidden passage and every secret exit. I could still remember most of them in my head. It was hard to believe I'd ever been so carefree.

Darian's footsteps were a steady rhythm behind me, close enough that I could almost feel his breath on the nape of my neck. I wondered what he was thinking about as he followed me into the dark abyss. How could he not be afraid of me after I had shown him the true extent of my powers? I must have looked like a monster. At least, I felt like one.

I forced my thoughts away from him, concentrating instead on recalling the labyrinthine passages. One wrong turn could lead us somewhere disastrous, like the throne room. That would require an explanation neither of us was prepared to give.

I moved with purpose, trying to maintain a brisk pace, just as Brock had instructed. The deeper we ventured, the more the cold seeped into my bones, and a flicker of doubt ignited. Even though my initial confidence was high in my ability to navigate the tunnels, I began to question myself. Was I even going the right way? It had been months, perhaps even longer, since I'd last travelled these paths.

Finally, a door loomed into view. Old, wooden, with a handle so encrusted with rust it looked like it hadn't been touched in years. Which, most likely, it hadn't. I wave of relief washed over me at the fact that I had gotten us to the correct place.

"Alright," I said, turning to face Darian, looking at him for the first time since we'd entered the tunnels. "This should be it."

"Are you sure?" he asked, and his doubt immediately chipped away at my own confidence.

I nodded anyway, waiting for his next move. His expression was thoughtful, a clear sign he was weighing something or in deep thought about something. Sometimes, I wished I could read his mind.

"How exactly should I open this?" he asked, gesturing to the door. "Are there guards right on the other side, or do we have a few seconds to get ourselves together?"

He had a point, a crucial one I'd completely forgotten to mention during our brief planning session. "There shouldn't be any guards directly on the other side," I explained, "but we'll be stepping straight into the main hallway. That's where the guard quarters and weapon storage are. The door with the two guards on watch is about thirty feet further down."

Darian nodded, his gaze distant as he considered the information. Then, he moved past me, his hand reaching for the rusted handle. He nudged it gently, testing its resistance. As expected, it didn't budge. Rusted solid.

"Okay, there's no way for me to open this without making noise and alerting them," he stated, pulling his hand back. "So, I'm just going to break down the door and storm in."

"What? Are you crazy?" I hissed, disbelief lacing my voice. "They'll alert the other guards before you even reach them! Besides, you have no idea if you can even force that door open."

"Do you have any better ideas?" he snapped back, his tone sharp, edged with irritation. For the first time in a long while, I felt the sting of Darian's anger directed at me.

"Actually," I began, meeting his gaze, "I think I do."

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After I told Darian my plan, he reluctantly agreed to move forward with it. He believed it was unnecessary and that it wouldn't work, but I had high hopes in his acting skills.

"There is no way this will work," Darian grumbled again, looking at the solid wooden door with an air of profound skepticism.

"Trust me," I insisted, a plan already forming in my mind. "It'll work." I wasn't sure if I fully believed my own words but I would have to go off of what little confidence I had left.