7. Blake
Blake
C haos is merely a pattern one has yet to discern. The others see a maze; I see a choice, and every choice has an optimal solution.
“The one straight ahead,” I say, my voice cutting through the tense silence.
“How do you know that’s the right choice?” Venetia asks. The sight of the blood on her dress against the white fabric is a brutal, beautiful masterpiece.
“It likely leads south, seeing as we are now walking away from the gates, which face north. The Lord would escape through the back, not the front.”
“Makes sense,” Venetia mutters and strides forward.
“Whoa,” Viper says, moving in front of her quicker than lightning. “You are not taking point on this. Did you not hear what the dead man said? Your head is worth a pretty price.”
“And he got his blown off,” she counters.
“I’ll go first. I have more knowledge about where this might be heading,” I cut in.
“Fine,” Venetia relents. “That makes sense.”
With that agreed, we move forward, with me first, Venetia behind me, Viper on her heels, and Rafferty bringing up the rear.
My phone’s torch barely cuts a path through the darkness we are plunged into as we head deeper. The tunnel slopes downwards, as I expected, possibly running parallel with the staircase.
“Steeper here,” I mutter as we head down a gradient that has us steadying ourselves on the stone walls. “I think we are under the foundations now.”
“Feels more suffocating,” Venetia mutters behind me, and then stops.
I know she has because Viper crashes into her with a grunt.
“What is it?” I ask, not turning back.
“Taking my shoes off. These heels are becoming a liability.”
“It’s slimy and gross,” Rafferty comments from the rear.
“I can shower after, can’t I?” she hisses back. “This is safer than me breaking my ankle if I trip or worse.”
“Fair enough. Let’s keep moving.”
Her practicality is one of the many things I find compelling about her. A lesser woman would complain, prioritising vanity over survival. Venetia assesses the situation and eliminates the variable causing the problem. It’s ruthlessly efficient. It’s beautiful.
We continue our descent. The air changes again, becoming heavy with the scent of river water and wet clay. Droplets fall from above us, confirming my assessment.
“We are under the moat.”
“Already?” Venetia asks.
“Look up.” I shine the torch upwards, and she tilts her head back.
“Okay, so we ended up in the exit tunnel. Nice one, Locke.”
The tunnel opens into another small chamber, this one dominated by a deep, fast-moving channel of dark water cutting across our path. A narrow stone bridge, barely a foot wide and slick with algae, is our way across.
“This must be the underground river that fills the reservoir that floods the moat,” I mutter.
“Fascinating,” Rafferty drawls. “Keep moving, Professor.”
Smirking, I step onto the bridge. I have no doubt it will hold. It’s been used recently and looks in decent condition, despite the slippery surface. Venetia follows me, as sure-footed as a mountain goat, with Viper right behind her. Rafferty crosses last.
I lead them on. The tunnel ahead is drier; the floor slopes gently upward now. We are heading towards the surface. The air lightens, losing its subterranean rot, replaced by the scent of damp soil and pine. I see a faint grey light ahead. An exit.
Despite the slime and general dankness of our surroundings, Venetia hasn’t complained. She has adapted to her environment with an ease that sends a thrill of pure possessiveness through me. She is mine. Ours .
The tunnel narrows in the darkness, becoming tight and uneven, before finally opening up.
The passage ends in a small, low-roofed chamber with a wall of thick, damp earth and roots dangling in loose, twitching clumps.
I run a hand over the wall, probing for the means of exit.
I find the edge of a door made from wood so old it’s gone soft and pull it inwards carefully.
There’s resistance, and then a sudden give.
The door creaks open, and light slices the dark in uneven beams.
A tangle of wild, untended shrubbery forms a living barrier against the outside world, the green so dense that the mouth of the tunnel is completely hidden from any casual observer.
I push through, thorns grabbing my shirt, and step out into the open.
The morning is brisk, sunlight smeared through clouds, and a soft mist is rising from the ground.
Venetia emerges behind me, her hair catching on a branch, her dress streaked with blood and grime. She looks wild and powerful, an apex predator out of place in the gentle hush of the woods.
“The woods that border the academy grounds. No wonder they could vanish into thin air,” I mutter.
Viper and Rafferty follow, both instinctively taking up defensive positions, their eyes flicking over the perimeter, the trees, and the ground.
There’s a moment where we all just breathe, caught in the scale of what we’ve discovered.
The tunnel is a backdoor, a perfect escape hatch, a liability so enormous and yet so small.
Viper is the first to voice it. “This is a fucking disaster.”
Rafferty grunts, already squatting to examine the freshly disturbed dirt at the foot of the exit. “Definitely well used.”
I step back and survey the layout and take note of the woods and the way the tunnel is perfectly angled to emerge in deepest cover. It’s strategic genius built so many centuries ago to save the Lord of the Keep. I wonder how many cowards used this.
“We need to block it,” I say.
“With what?” Viper snaps. “We’re standing here with our dicks in the breeze. There’s not even a rock big enough.”
“We’ll come back,” Venetia says, decisive.
Rafferty stands. “I’ll stay. Watch it. Someone needs to make sure they don’t try to use it again.”
Venetia meets my eye, and for a second neither of us says anything. There’s respect there, and the beginnings of a shared purpose. It’s a dangerous thing. “We’ll come back harder. Fast.”
Viper’s jaw clenches, but he nods. “Then let’s fucking move.”
Venetia, Viper, and I double back through the maze, my phone torch barely illuminating the way. Every step seems easier now that we know where it leads.
When we reach the surface level again, emerging into the office with the dead man, Venetia is silent, her mind working through the strategy. She’s planning five moves ahead, as am I. There’s satisfaction in that. We’re more alike than either of us wants to admit.
“You know that this is going to get messier before it gets cleaner.”
“That’s the nature of the beast,” I answer.
“When does it not?” Viper snorts.
“We need to rethink our whole approach. If there’s one tunnel, there could be more. Fuck, there probably are more.”
Viper’s voice echoes ahead of us. “Then we find them all, one by one. And we make it hurt.”
It’s not just bravado. There’s a cold, methodical anger in him now, and I sense that this is how he became king of the South Side. Not by brute force, but by refusing to let go of a wound until it’s cauterised, scorched clean.
I’m almost impressed.
“We can’t blow up the tunnel,” Venetia states. “Not only is it a part of the original structure, but it will also probably bring the entire academy down on our heads. We need something that will block it off completely.”
“Yeah, but what? What do we have here that can block it off?” Viper asks.
“We have a fully equipped engineering department and a state-of-the-art chemistry lab,” I state. “We don’t need to find something to block the tunnel. We’ll make it.”
Venetia turns to me, her green eyes sharp and intelligent. She understands immediately. “Quick-setting concrete?”
“Something like that,” I elaborate, enjoying the flicker of understanding that passes between us. It’s a connection the others can’t share. “A high-density polymer resin. We mix the components and block the door off. Within an hour, it will be a solid, impassable block.”
Viper grunts. It’s his version of impressed approval. “And you know how to make this shit?”
“I know the theory,” I reply smoothly. “But more importantly, I know that David Britton’s family owns a chemical manufacturing empire. He’s probably been mixing compounds since he could talk. We’ll delegate.”
This is how you build an empire. Not by doing everything yourself, but by knowing exactly who to command to do it for you.