Thankfully, the dungeons weren’t too hard to find. All she had to do was keep going down stairs until the hallways grew narrow and the air chilled. Finally, the passage widened, revealing a barred metal gate, past which were rows of cells. Two Reapers stood guard at the entrance. Carissa stifled a sigh, remaining just out of sight. Of course there were Reapers.
They slowly turned towards where she hid, their faces turned into black voids by their hoods. That’s right. They could sense her, just as she could sense them.
Carissa bit back a curse and began stumbling up the stairs with the grace of a drunken sailor. Only too late did she hear dozens of footsteps descending down the stairs.
Lands. Now what should she do? Go back down?
Before she could change directions, the owners of the footsteps came into view. More guards.
Carissa nearly drew her dagger before remembering she wore the same armor they did. The guard at the head slowed and approached her, and she kept her head down.
His feet stopped a few inches in front of her, standing one stair step higher. “Guard, you don’t go ahead of your group. Understood?”
Carissa nodded, relief washing over her. He’d assumed she was another guard.
“Now stay at the back of the line or I’ll flog you bloody.” He jerked his head back up the stairs. Behind him was a long string of guards. Once their leader marched forward, the others followed. Carissa waited and slipped into the back of the group.
The leader halted before the Reapers. “We are to escort the King to Zorelle.”