The Tunnels Beneath
The entrance to the tunnels was hidden beneath the old chapel.
Rhaegar led them through the crumbling stone archway, past rows of broken pews and shattered stained glass, to a door that looked like nothing more than a storage closet. He pressed his hand against the wood, pushed, and the door swung open.
Behind it was darkness.
Not the darkness of a room without light — the darkness of a wound, a void, a hunger. The air that breathed from the opening was cold and damp, thick with the smell of earth and iron and something else. Something old. Something that had been waiting.
Theron lit a torch.
The flame flickered, casting shadows on the walls.
“I will go first,” he said. “I have walked these tunnels before. I know where the bones are.”
“Where are the bones?” Rhaena asked.
“Everywhere.”
They descended.
The stairs were narrow, carved from the living rock, worn smooth by centuries of feet. The walls pressed close on either side, their surfaces slick with moisture. The ceiling was low — too low for a tall man to stand straight — and Rhaena could feel the weight of the earth above her, pressing down, waiting to crush.
She counted her steps.
Twenty. Forty. Sixty. Eighty. One hundred.
The stairs ended.
The tunnel began.
It stretched before them, narrow and dark, its walls lined with bones.
Not human bones — the bones of the earth itself. Stones worn smooth by underground rivers, their surfaces carved with symbols that Rhaena did not recognize. The torchlight made them dance, made them seem alive.
“The old kings built these tunnels for escape,” Theron said. “They never used them. Death found them before they could run.”
“How did you find them?”
“I did not find them. Your father showed me. On the night he died.”
Rhaena’s throat tightened.
“My father knew about the tunnels?”
“He knew everything. Every secret passage. Every hidden door. Every escape route. He spent his whole life preparing for the day Malrik would come.”
“But he did not escape.”
“He chose not to. He chose to stay. He chose to fight. He chose to die.”
“Why?”
Theron was silent for a long moment.
“Because he knew you would need time. Time to hide. Time to grow. Time to return.”
They walked.
The tunnel twisted and turned, branching left and right, up and down. Theron led without hesitation, his torch held high, his shadow long and strange on the bone walls.
Corin followed close behind Rhaena, his sword drawn, his gray eyes scanning the darkness.
“How much farther?” he asked.
“Half an hour. Maybe less. The tunnels are shorter than they seem.”
“They feel longer.”
“Fear stretches time.”
The bones grew thicker.
Skulls now, stacked in piles, their empty eyes watching. Ribs, arranged in patterns that hurt to look at. Fingers, reaching from the walls as if grasping for something they had lost.
“The ones who tried to escape,” Theron said. “The ones who got lost. The ones who starved. The ones who went mad.”
“They went mad?”
“The darkness does things to the mind. The silence does things to the soul. The hunger does things to the heart.”
“Hunger?”
“There is no food in these tunnels. No water. No light. Only the whispers.”
Rhaena heard them then.
Faint at first, like the rustle of leaves, like the murmur of a distant crowd.
Rhaena, they whispered. Rhaena. Rhaena. Rhaena.
“Theron.”
“Yes, Your Grace?”
“The whispers. They know my name.”
Theron stopped.
He turned.
His good eye was wide.
“They should not know your name. They only know the names of the dead.”
“I am not dead.”
“Then they are welcoming you.”
They walked faster.
The whispers grew louder.
The bones grew thicker.
The darkness grew hungrier.
Rhaena’s heart pounded. Her hands shook. Her breath was shallow. But she did not stop. She could not stop. The throne was waiting. The crown was waiting. The kingdom was waiting.
The tunnel ended.
A door stood before them.
Iron. Black. Sealed.
Theron pressed his hand against it.
The door did not move.
“It is locked from the other side.”
“Can you open it?”
“No. But you can.”
He stepped aside.
Rhaena approached the door.
She placed her hands on the cold iron.
The whispers screamed.
Rhaena, they shrieked. Rhaena. Rhaena. Rhaena.
She pushed.
The door opened.