THE BLACK BOOK
The hidden stairs were steep, slick with moisture, and pitch black. I kept my left hand flat against the cold stone wall while taking quick steps down the narrow, winding tunnel.
Above my head the faint thud of heavy iron boots echoed straight through the floor. Duke Varn’s castle lockdown had officially started. The guards up in the east wing still thought I was trapped inside my locked bedroom, but they would break the heavy oak door down soon enough.
Near the top of the dark stairs the stone passage turned into a tight crawlway. The air smelled sharp and bitter like crushed medicine, dry leaves, and spilled oils.
I dropped down to my knees on the cold floorboards. Pulling thin steel wire from my coat pocket, I slid the wire straight into the tiny latch hidden in the
