The service door

The door overlooked a staircase so narrow that Rhylor had to move aside. Zaelyra closed the march, the map of the new route rolled against her chest. Behind them, the storage room had become silent again. In front, the air smelled of cold dust and lamp grease.

Vhaelyn stopped at the first landing.

Pell raised his head. "Why not continue with us to the Relay?"

"Because if no one comes back, they will know exactly where to look."

"They will know anyway," says Zaelyra.

"Yes. But not right away. Vhaelyn slipped a silver pin into his sister's palm. "If you see two lines of chalk near a door, don't open it. A single line means that the passage is free."

"How long have you been making guide marks?"

"Since the priestesses decided that the corridors belonged to them."

Rhylor did not comment. He was examining the top landing lock. A black thread had been knotted there, almost invisible. He cut it with his dagger and wrapped it around his finger.

"Alert? Zaelyra asked.

"Or warning. This often comes back to the same thing."

They went down. Below them, a door opened, then boots hit the steps. Rhylor turned off his lamp. Everyone stopped on the stairs, their hand against the wet stone.

Vhaelyn went down two steps, alone, and put her ornaments back in place. She no longer seemed to be a sister who was fleeing, but a priestess interrupted in her work.

"Who gave the order to search the depot? She asked when the guards arrived.

"The captain of the west gate."

"Did he sign a tablet?"

The guard hesitated. "No, lady."

"Then you don't search. You keep the issues and wait for my instructions."

"The Matron ordered—"

"The Matron ordered an inspection. She did not order you to pursue a rumor on the stairs of the House."

The guard looked down at the seal embroidered on Vhaelyn's sleeve. She handed him the tablet received from Zesstra, the two imprints intact in the wax. The order was authentic; only its interpretation could be discussed.

"Stay at your post. If the captain asks why, tell him I'm waiting for him."

The soldiers left grumbled. Vhaelyn stayed until their steps moved away, then joined the others.

"You just gave them an order that doesn't exist," whispered Zaelyra.

"No. I gave them an interpretation that they can defend. It's safer."

"What if the captain understands?"

"He will understand. But he will have to choose if he wants to challenge my reading of the order before the Matron."

Zaelyra put this lesson in her memory. His sister did not always object to the system. Sometimes she knew exactly what part of the system could be forced to slow down.

A guard voice rose to them. "The room is empty. The track continues towards the old conduit."

Vhaelyn waited for the steps to move away.

"They found the room," whispered Nym.

"They had to find her," she replied. "That's why we don't take it."

At the foot of the stairs, a branch overlooked a service gallery. A copper plate indicated the former deposits of the House. Vhaelyn touched the spider symbol, then withdrew his hand as if the metal had burned it.

"The low passage reaches the Three Echoes, but it is monitored," she says. "We have to wait for the change of guard."

A service door opened in the opposite wall. Two lines of chalk crossed out the door. Further on, a low hatch bore a unique mark, almost erased by dust.

Zaelyra felt the silver pin in her palm. "The two features."

"We don't open," confirmed Vhaelyn. "Not even to check."

Rhylor examined the door without approaching it. The lock was new; a fine scratch ran around the post, as if it had recently been forced before closing it.

"Do you know what's behind it? Zaelyra asked.

"No. I only know that no one should enter it."

"And the trapdoor?"

Vhaelyn squats. The unique mark had been traced with white chalk, but a gray powder had been deposited on it. She passed her finger next to it, without erasing the sign.

"It can lead to low passage."

"Can?" asked Pell.

"A mark indicates what we knew at the time we made it. She doesn't promise that nothing has changed since then."

Nym takes a thread of oiled paper out of his bag. He slipped it under the hatch. The band rose towards them, then fell back.

"The duct sucks in the air," he says. "This confirms that there is an open volume behind. Not where it leads."

"Can we slip in? Zaelyra asked.

Rhylor measured the opening of the hand. "A person at a time. Without a bag. Sszindi will not pass if we force him to crawl."

The old drow had leaned against the wall. "I can move forward on my knees. I can't carry the lamp."

"Then you won't wear it," says Zaelyra.

They waited for the change of guard without taking their eyes off the hatch. Pell counted the steps on the stairs; Nym watched the wire; Rhylor distributed the bags so that no one was left with their hands when entering. With each noise, Vhaelyn checked the door crossed out with two lines. No one came close.

"How long? Zaelyra asked.

"A hundred breaths."

"Did you count?"

"I grew up here too."

They waited without speaking. Zaelyra heard Sszindi's short breathing, Pell's effort not to move and the rubbing of Nym's fingers on the handle of his bag. She would have liked to trace all this on a map: fears, wounds, hesitations. But no ink could make a decision less dangerous.

Pell looked at the door they had just crossed. "They know we're here."

"Yes," said Vhaelyn.

"Then why wait?"

"Because they wait too."

"What if we are wrong?"

"So we'll change our plans."

The boy seemed disappointed by this answer. He would have preferred a clear order, a safe path, something that did not depend on his attention. Zaelyra acknowledged this expectation. She had it, too, before understanding that adults sometimes had only a better way to hide their uncertainty.

"Do you want a task? She asked him.

Pell nodded.

"Count the steps when the patrol moves away. Don't try to guess when she'll be back. Just tell us what you hear."

He applied himself. About fifty steps went up, then went north. After a while, he raised a finger.

"They stopped."

Rhylor listened in turn. "He's right."

"How do you know? Zaelyra asked.

"The gallery no longer returns the steps. They are behind the hollow pillar."

Pell smiled, but did not move. He had understood that his task was not to be brave. It consisted of not inventing what he could not know.

In the end of Vhaelyn's account, Rhylor opened the door. The patrol had just turned north.

Vhaelyn lifted the hatch just enough to look into the opening. A flight of steps went down under the gallery; the stone, smooth in the center, had been polished by the passage. The unique brand had not lied, but it had not guaranteed anything beyond the threshold.

Rhylor passed first, then received the bags that Zaelyra handed him. Nym went down with his wire and his lamp. Pell followed, keeping a free hand to help Sszindi. The injured woman took the time to place each knee before transferring her weight. Zaelyra stayed close to her while Vhaelyn closed the hatch above the last one.

"If someone finds both traits? "Zaelyra whispered.

"He will know that he has to stop. What he will do next will belong to him."

"What if he doesn't understand the sign?"

"Then the brand won't protect him."

Vhaelyn pulled down the lid again. The light of the landing was reduced to a net, then disappeared. The low gallery opened in front of them, wide enough to advance bent, not enough to forget that they were entering a passage that no official map recognized.

They advanced until the gut widened into a small junction chamber. Three passages left. The one on the left went up to the service corridors; the middle one ended under an old landslide; the last one dived towards the Three Echoes.

Vhaelyn put a finger on the rolled map against Zaelyra's chest. "Here is the crossroads. I can return to the House through the service gallery. You have a road to the Three Echoes, not yet a safe road to Veyr."

Zaelyra turned to Rhylor. "You asked me to ask you the question again here. Do you continue?"

He observed the low opening, then the travelers waiting behind them. "Up to Veyr, if the brands confirm the way. Not further without talking about it again."

"Okay. Zaelyra did not turn her agreement into a bigger promise.

"This is where our paths separate," says Vhaelyn.

"Not forever," says Zaelyra.

"Don't promise what you can't guarantee."

His sister hugged him abruptly, too quickly for none of them to claim that it was a farewell scene. Then she stepped back.

"Go. And don't make Do’Urden's rumor a reason to believe you are invincible."

"I don't need it."

"So much the better."

Vhaelyn took the passage that went up to the service corridors. At the branch, she raised two fingers, then disappeared into the darkness.

Zaelyra waited for a heartbeat. Then she took the low gallery.