This one is pretty short... sorry

Chapter 3: Secrets in the dark...

It was still dark when Cleo was stirred from sleep. The cold air nipped her exposed legs causing gooseflesh to spread and hairs to stand on end; and the soft thudding noises coming from behind the closed door, from across the room, ignited both curiosity and apprehension. She sat up, the sheets sliding down her shoulders as she took in the darkness, only being able make out a few silhouettes on the floor and the door itself. Her breathing was quiet and careful as she tread stealthily across the room, in hopes of sneaking past her dozing companions: both of which were light sleepers.

When she reached the door, Cleo realised it had been slightly ajar. She slowly pushed it open, but as it was her luck, a high pitch sound rippled lightly into the night and she immediately paused to look back. After cursing herself for overlooking the door's decrepit and noisy state, Cleo let out a sigh of relief when there were no signs of movement behind her. Anxiously, she poked her head into the room, which now let out a dull yellow glow. Curiously enough, there was no Jon, but there was a tunnel, carved into the wall adjacent to his bed, lit by flickering candles. A tunnel that had been concealed by false wooden panels; something she clearly overlook when she was snooping around his room earlier in the evening.

Behind her, laying wake in the darkness and on his belly, with his eyes open and glaring, was Orphen. A wave of confusion and resentment, twisted painfully in the deep pit of his abdomen.

'What the hell did she think she was doing,' he wondered to himself, refusing to accept the situation as it seemed and ignoring the haunting pangs in his stomach. They way he looked at her, her especially; the way her hand lingered in his and slowly pulled away; the way she leaned toward him and that slow, irritating grin he showed in response. No. He refused to pay attention to those thoughts scratching in the back of his mind.

Rolling onto his back, he looked at the patched ceiling, shrouded in darkness: listening carefully as his insides curled.

Her bare foot met damp soil as she placed it gingerly at the entrance of the tunnel. Far off, she heard the crisp noise of dripping water, echoing off the twisting walls to meet her ears in an eerie and ill-timed orchestra. The candles were spread throughout the tunnel, swaying usually in the absence of breeze, warping the shadows and creating a deceptive and sinister atmosphere. Cleo swallowed her fear and stepped in, her golden hair falling behind her shoulders has she walked.

The further she got, the colder the air got, forcing her to wrap her arms around her small frame, perhaps more out of comfort than any other reason. She was nearing the end of the tunnel when she paused, wondering if she should turn back and tell Orphen. She pursued her lips: she had journeyed on her own on numerous occasions and she was more than capable of handling dangerous situations, but a nagging feeling in her stomach urged her to reconsider.

"Ttsss!" she spat, disgusted at her cowardice. "I can do this; I can do this," she repeated, but exactly what she was doing, she wasn't sure.

"That's it," grumbled Orphen as he pushed himself into sitting position.

"What's wrong?" mumbled Majic, half asleep.

"Something's off. It doesnt feel right," he said, more to himself than Majic. He hadn't heard a single sound from the room: no movement; no greeting; no rustling of sheets; nothing. The twisting in his stomach now worked its way up toward his chest: he was worried.

As Cleo walked on, closing in on the distant dripping, the tunnel walls began to widen. A few feet ahead of her, around a slight bend, she could see an opening into a small room fortified with wooden panelling. She slowly edged herself near the curve pressing her back firmly against the dirt wall, in order to remain as unseen as possible. The shadows cast on the floor, from the room, danced in the flickering candlelight, but told nothing out of the ordinary: no movements, no figures. She quickly ducked her head around to survey the room properly and repositioned herself around the curve, her back against the wall once more. A couple of book shelves; a few pages scattered across the floor; a writing desk with an unlit lamp; and an old sword.

"Haa.." she exhaled, both amused and relieved at the same time. What a fool she had been. This was probably Jon's study, where he kept his grandfather's secret journals and maps. He was probably down here searching for them in order to be prepared, come morning. Only just realising how tense she was, she relaxed her shoulders and unclenched her fists as she turned to enter the room. 'Really, it wasn't unheard of,' she reminded herself. Secret rooms and tunnels; the Everlasting manor had 6 which she had known of.

She walked into the middle of the study and made her way to the desk, in hopes of finding one of Jose's journals, but before she could reach her intended destination, a soft trickling noise made itself apparent, gently lessening into quickened drips as her steps slowed. This was the noise she had heard earlier on; a noise that was coming from behind another, slightly ajar door. She turned her head and then her body, a puzzled look coming over her features. She had no reason to be afraid. Jon had a right to have a secret study and sure, he might be angry at her for intruding, but if there was one thing she couldn't live with, it was not knowing.

She placed a hand on the wooden door and pushed it open.