Page 74 of Silent Lucidity

She slipped through the opening first, tugging Tenthil along behind her. He released hold of his weapon only long enough to close the door once he’d cleared it, teeth clenched against the inevitable sound of it latching.

Despite the darkness, the narrow hallway was familiar to Tenthil—it was almost identical to the one in which he’d killed the guards and destroyed the surveillance equipment on the night he rescued Abella.

They hadn’t gone far when Abella turned and crept through another doorway, this one opening on a staircase. The steps to the right led upward, while the left set led down, likely into a basement area separate from the access tunnel through which they’d entered the manor.

“This will take us to a hallway upstairs, just a few meters from Cullion’s chamber,” Abella said.

Tenthil kept his left arm around Abella’s shoulders as they climbed the steps. Fortunately, the stairs were carpeted, padding the sound of their movement. They turned at the landing and moved up the next flight. Tenthil froze near the top, staring at the door that led to the second floor; faint light was visible in the tiny gap at its base, and an instant later he heard soft footsteps over the carpet on the other side. A shadow passed the sliver of light, trailing darkness in its wake.

Though the footsteps had been too muted to tell for sure, Tenthil guessed it had been another pair of guards who had walked past the door. There were likely more in the transport out front; many security forces used such vehicles as mobile surveillance centers. It was safe to assume they were dealing with at least six guards on the premises.

He allowed fifteen seconds to pass before resuming their upward trek. When they reached the third-floor door, he paused, pressed his ear against it, and listened.

The only sounds he picked up were those of his own heartbeat and Abella’s soft breaths. Leaning back, he carefully cracked the door open and peered into the hallway. It was dark and still—a fitting atmosphere, given the death Tenthil had delivered in this corridor before.

Slipping through the doorway, he and Abella turned right—away from the scene of the short, brutal battle he’d fought here—and walked toward the rear of the manor. Soon, they entered a larger hallway with high ceilings and Cullion’s signature overbearing adornment; this was the antithesis of the secret tunnel below.

Abella lifted her left hand and pointed to the large wooden door at the end of the hall. Despite the hall’s dimness, the metallic accents inlaid amidst the door’s intricate carvings gleamed with tiny points of reflected light.

A faint sound from somewhere behind them made Tenthil’s ear twitch as he reached the door. He turned his head to listen; several seconds had passed before he realized that he was hearing the quiet jingling of equipment as someone walked.

Blue-white light spilled into the far end of the hallway from one of the side corridors.

He turned his attention back to the door, but Abella had already taken hold of the handle. She pushed it open and darted inside, pulling him along.

Tenthil released Abella once he was inside the room and spun to face the door, taking the handle in one hand and flattening the other higher up on its surface. Holding his breath, he eased the door closed, releasing the handle only after it was in place.

The latch clicked; the sound was thunderous in the silence.

Tenthil turned his head toward Abella, catching her worried gaze.

“Are they coming?” she asked quietly.

“Hide,” he whispered before pressing his ear to the door.

Muffled voices drifted to him from somewhere down the hallway—apparently, the sound dampeners Tenthil had sworn were in effect when he’d first come here were no longer active. Footsteps sounded in the hall, drawing steadily closer.

He turned his gaze to the room. It was a huge chamber, with a wide, four-posted bed directly ahead; the posts were in constant, steady motion, spinning around invisible axis and occasionally breaking into shards to rearrange themselves into new, matching shapes. To the left and right, low steps led up to raised portions of the room, one of which was furnished for lounging while the other—half-obscured behind a partially drawn privacy curtain—sported mirrors and upright cabinets, likely full of clothing. The carpet was soft and intricately patterned, and everything seemed to be draped in luxurious fabrics of more varieties than Tenthil knew had existed. In the center of the room were two crescent-shaped couches arranged in a broken circle with a low, round table between them. The diffused light from the windows in the lounge area only deepened the shadows dominating the room.

Abella ducked behind the privacy curtain, vanishing into the darkness of the dressing area.

Tenthil swept his gaze across the room again and cursed to himself. He’d never been in a situation like this; normally, he only needed to rely upon his own ability to remain hidden. But there wasn’t anywhere secure to hide. If the guards performed more than a cursory search of the room, Tenthil and Abella would be discovered, and if they found her first…

I cannot take that chance.

He dashed across the room and joined Abella behind the heavy curtain, crouching beside her amidst the thick folds of fabric. She caught his free hand after he drew his knife. He turned his head and listened.

Only a few heartbeats passed before the door latch clicked, and a blue-white light swept into the room, flicking through the uncovered portion of the area in which Tenthil and Abella were hidden. The guards’ boots whispered over the carpet, and their gear made the faint jingling that had originally alerted Tenthil to their presence. The play of moving shadows and light told of the guards’ slow search of the room.

“There’s nothing here,” one of the guards said.

“There never is,” the other replied, “but we have to check, anyway. We make good on this contract and it only makes us look even better than Starforge, you know?”

“Yeah. Best thing for us that they fucked up as bad as they did. I heard there’s still a lot of money being thrown at this contract.”

One of the lights turned toward the dressing area. The circle it cast on the wall swayed and grew as a guard’s muted footsteps drew nearer. Abella released Tenthil’s hand, and he raised his knife, preparing to strike.

The guard grasped the edge of the curtain and dragged it toward Tenthil and Abella.

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