The shadow glided down the empty hallway and eventually came upon atorch. For barely a second, the hooded face was illuminated, revealing the figure to be —. She carefully pulled the torch from the wall and continued on faster than before. —searched the scrupulously kept halls for what seemed to be an eternity before happeningon the door to the cellar. If her friends were any where, this would be it. The princewouldn’t chance having someone see the captives.
The cellar was the only place no onefrequented. Suddenly, — heard the distinct ring of a guards boots on the highly polishedfloor. She threw the torch out the window, then snatched hold of the door handle andpulled. Nothing happened. She tried again, this time throwing every last ounce of herbeing behind it, and it creaked open just enough for her to slip through.
The guardsrounded the corner just after — yanked the door shut behind her. — looked around her, or rather tried to. She found herself in complete darkness. It was colder here than in the other parts of the palace. The walls were damp and cold. the iciness seemed to cling to her, to settle into her very bones.
— trembled slightly, infear and coldness. She pressed her hand against the wall and started feeling for a torch. This soon led her to a set of steps. As she went down, the ringing of her boots echoedfrom out of the emptiness.
The further she went, the more nervous she became. As shewent to the brink of giving in to complete fear, her hand slid into a torch, unlit, but still atorch.