“Seven hundred and fifty four,” Dex said.
Seth said nothing. He barely met Dex’s gaze before dropping his eyes to the floor. Seth shoved a leather-wrapped package at him: the silver key. A red burn weal shone from his palm; evidence that he’d tried to pick it up before using the leather to shield himself from the silver’s burning touch.
“There’s quite a lot of stones in here,” Dex said. He forced his mouth into a smile, the twisted flesh along his scar pulling. He unlocked himself and stepped into the corridor, tucking the key into his pocket. “I probably missed a few. If I’m going to do this again, I think we should get some lanterns. It’s very dark in here during the night. The candle burned out hours ago. Are you all right?”
“Did I bite you?” Seth asked. He appeared to have heard not
