Unspeakable Secrets The Alchemist Series (A Dark Medieval Progression Fantasy)

Chapter 19 The Dungeon

He may not have his rapier, but he still had more than a few tricks up his sleeves. And a lot of knives.

Not that he could use them without destroying the whole point of him going along peaceably in the first place...

Thankfully, Goran hadn't searched him properly. That made things much easier. He even still had his armor. Just because he didn't plan on killing anyone didn't mean they'd show him the same courtesy.

Especially those loyal to Chamberlain Davison.

He lay down on the cold, stone floor and pressed his ear to the ground. His potion wouldn't have long left before it ran out. He might as well make use of it.

He closed his eyes and focused all his attention on hearing and feeling the earth beneath him. His senses expanded even further than before... too bad he could never shut out everything else like this in the middle of a fight.

Well... not if he wanted to live anyway.

Rats scurried in the walls, and something dripped from a pipe not too far away. Heavy footsteps thumped along the hallways in regular patrol patterns, and much further down the hallway prisoners spoke in hushed tones.

He sighed. The guards and the prisoners were both far too alert for his tastes. The guards, in particular, must have just recently started their shift.

Attempting an escape now would be asking to get caught. He'd have to wait for them to grow tired and relaxed.

He memorized the patrol patterns, and which areas he heard the most prisoners from.

He combined what he sensed with his memory of the times he'd spent here before. Though, he'd never thought he would be on the other side of the bars...

The smallest mistake could get him caught or killed. He had to be perfect.

It wasn't much longer before the effects of the potion wore off, and he was back to his normal senses. Which, while still sharp by human standards, were far less useful.

He sighed and sat back on the straw bed. There wasn't much he could do with his normal senses.

He clasped his hands together and rested his chin on them.

Goran would no doubt be blamed for his escape, but how could he just sit here and hope for the best?

He needed to take action. He needed to get Victor back, and once he did, they could clean up the entire mess. Goran should be safe until then...

He counted the seconds... the minutes... the hours. How was it possible for time to move so slowly? Victor could be out there needing his help... he could be dying!

He let out a deep breath. He wouldn't be much good to anyone if he got flustered.

One hour took another, and the guards' patrols became slower and less frequent as they grew tired and lax.

His eyes sprang open. It was finally time.

The cell was dark with only the soft light of the torches in the passage outside to provide any illumination, but his eyes had adjusted in the long hours he'd been down here.

He reached under his cloak and felt along the hem of his shirt with his fingertips. He found a stiffer portion of fabric and pushed out the thin slivers of metal he kept there where nobody thought to search.

He smiled with his lockpicks in hand. They weren't nearly as good as his normal ones, but they should do the job on an old cell door like this one. Davison was a fool if he thought any cell would hold him so easily.