Etien moved slowly, the torch in his hand throwing jagged shadows across the damp, suffocating corridors of the dungeon. The flame sputtered, the only light in that hellhole, before he snuffed it out, leaving the lone prisoner swallowed again by darkness, sitting in silence on the cold stone floor.
Step by step, Etien climbed the staircase, his boots echoing faintly. He didn't leave even a trace of his shadow behind. At the final step, where faint daylight bled in, Matthias set the torch aside and killed the flame. At the exit stood Bastian, stiff as a statue, waiting for the Duke who had taken far too long.
"Lock it up again, Bastian," Etien ordered, his voice sharp.
The old man obeyed instantly, pulling out his heavy ring of master keys. He refastened the iron locks he'd undone earlier to let his Duke inside. Just as he was about to seal them with the same old spell from his worn notebook, Etien raised a hand.
"Not that one. Use another."
