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‘This way.’ Daemi kicked the lock off the heavy wooden door and stepped forward, one hand on the hilt of her blade as the door swung slowly open.
A gust of fetid air rushed out at them from the darkness beyond, and Heather retreated behind Daemi, holding one hand to her nose. ‘Ugh.’
Lodan peered over Daemi’s shoulder into the shadows. ‘Dungeons. And not clean ones, judging by the smell.’
Daemi moved onwards, drawing her long knife as she went.
Lodan fell into place behind her, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Behind him came Heather, still holding one hand to her face, and taking up the rear was Frankle, head down, listening to something right on the edge of hearing, something that had grown in volume as the door swung open. Something he knew only he out of the party coul
