Darkness enveloped me immediately, and I stilled against the door, waiting for my eyes to adjust. I could light one of my candles if needed, but the flickering glow would betray my presence. Any decent builder would have hidden small windows to let in portions of light both from nearby rooms and from outside.
And Rossenthwaite had decent builders. A narrow, winding passageway gradually came into focus, lined on each side by the stone of the rest of the manor. Dirt and dust made a thick layer along its floor, and almost invisible openings along the ceiling let more dust drift gently down. Footprints littered the floor in no definable pattern. Someone—or a few someones—evidently preferred the tunnels over the main hallways.
No matter. Nara and Raynolds would not mind finding me in here, and I doubted Milton would care either, should something bring him into the house. Ensuring I could find the door again in the semi-darkness, cautious steps carefully checked for weak spots.
Utter silence hung in the air, though whether because no one spoke in the nearby rooms or because I could not hear the main house, I had no way of knowing. Spiders skittered away from my passing. Something small scratched the stone above me. A passing cloud abruptly changed my light level. The path wound between rooms, sometimes taking such a hard turn that I knew it had detoured around one of the larger spaces near the center of the manor.
Where I still could not hear anything. Slow movements hid my progress as I continued. The path took a shallow right. The ceiling grew abruptly—however briefly—lower. A dark-haired young man rounded the corner up ahead but immediately retraced his steps, probably to avoid having to pass in such close quarters. Another left changed the ambient light to a more direct sunlight, then the ground started sloping gradually downward.
Moisture had tamed the dust here better than near my room. Stones changed to packed dirt, then concrete that gradually spread from the base of the walls up and over the roof. A noticeable change in temperature confirmed I had gone underground. This must be the same tunnel that Sir Walter had mentioned finding in Lord Thrombak's guest room. Holmes would want to know about this.
I could not show him yet. The air grew steadily cooler, dirt alternating with the root-broken concrete lining the still narrow tunnel. More and more roots fell through the roof, and I saw several indications of a small animal's home. My wary pace meant over an hour passed before late morning light flickered through a wooden door above my head.
And the wall in front of me held a ladder. Gentle tugging confirmed it strong enough to hold my weight, then I climbed the few remaining rungs to shove the trapdoor out of the way—and clear enough of the thickly overgrown plant life to follow. Sir Walter's groundskeeper clearly had not seen to this patch of ground in several seasons. He might want to know about the rosebush gradually bringing the wall down.
I could tell him later. A moment's debate chose the aboveground route back to the house, and I closed the trapdoor and replaced the debris that had covered it before following a path. One of these would lead back inside.
Eventually. If it did not lose me first. More confusing than a barren moor, Sir Walter's paths looped around gardens and twisted between walls. No apparent logic took me away from the house, then the next turn rounded a fountain to go towards it—on a trajectory that took me completely past the entrance without once presenting a gap in the wall. After nearly thirty minutes succeeded only in passing that overgrown garden three times, I finally gave up and returned to the trap door. This might explain why the groundskeeper had not pruned this garden. He could hardly care for a space he could not find.
The walk back took significantly less time than the trip out, mostly because I did not have to move quite as slowly. One hand along the stone felt for other exits within the manor, but less than thirty minutes reached the tunnel's end.
Only to find my door closed and latched. Irritation escaped in a low grumble. I had left it unlatched solely so I did not have to search for the catch in the dark. Holmes must have come looking for me and noticed the gap.
Calling for help would teach him not to close a door someone else had left open, but the next moment decided to try freeing myself first. A call loud enough for him to hear through the stone would also startle him, and, avoiding me or not, I would not risk interrupting some train of deduction that might solve this case faster.
Of course, truly avoiding me meant he could decide to leave me "trapped," but I shoved the possibility from my mind. Had they placed a loose stone opposite the one in the room?
No, nor could I find any hint of a knob or hole at a normal height. When gentle fingers found no loose spots or irregularities in the chilled stone, I grudgingly dug a candle and match from my pocket. The flickering flame cast fleeting shadows to make the space feel even smaller, but it also glinted off a small piece of metal hidden well over my head—almost out of reach. One hard tug swung many pieces of stone on soundless hinges, and the resulting draft extinguished my candle as I slipped through the gap.
Rhythmic footsteps carried from the sitting room, easily covering the click of the door shutting behind me. A quick peek found Holmes repeatedly measuring the same path with his feet, head down to think through whatever currently held his attention. Good. That usually meant he had found something.
Not that I would expect him to tell me. I dropped both candles on a nearby table, knocked the dust off my shoes, and quietly wandered to the sofa. My leg did not appreciate such a long walk on uneven ground. I could wait until he finished his train of thought.
Unless my entrance distracted him. A rug ended to scuff my shoe against rough stone, and the noise evidently shattered his concentration. He spun on one heel, surprise alternating his gaze between me and the bedroom.
"I checked that room when I entered."
"And closed my door," I agreed with a smirk. He must not have realized the door led to a tunnel instead of simply a hollow. "You should have gone exploring instead of pacing the sitting room."
His gaze again flicked between me and the bedroom. "Which door?"
"The one behind the tapestry, of course." One hand waved him toward that colorful scene as I claimed a seat on the sofa. "Were you too deep in thought to note the tunnel?"
I would have expected him to smirk and return the ribbing, but surprised interest joined a frown that only grew behind a series of deductions. "You left the door open, and it was closed when you returned?"
An amused hum served as an affirmative, but further retort halted when blooming realization pushed teasing mischief aside. "You didn't close the door?"
He shook his head. "I did not enter your room. Which tapestry?"
"The scenic view." A faint grimace prevented a question as I gingerly gained my feet, but I crossed the room without a problem. One hand easily tugged the fabric aside to reveal the door. "This stone opens it. There's a metal latch on the tunnel side. The other end comes out in the gardens."
Which meant anyone could have bypassed the rest of the house to reach our rooms. In a case with so few leads, such an opening could give Lord Thrombak's attacker an easy route to find us, and Sir Walter would never know what had happened.
The increasing worry proved Holmes had already followed the logic—probably much faster than I had. Keen eyes noted wardrobe, desk, and finally my bed.
"Is anything missing?"
"I wouldn't know." A moment carefully scanned the room. Several steps checked a different angle, then aimed for where I had dropped my bag earlier. "I have kept everything together since we arrived, and I would not notice anything missing from Sir Walter's things. Unless they rummaged through my bag…"
I nearly halted mid step. My bag. They might well have rummaged through my bag. He raised an eyebrow in silent question.
"Someone moved my bag last night," I answered quietly. "I kicked it off the foot of my bed, but it was completely under the wardrobe when I woke this morning. I thought maybe I had kicked it harder than I realized. With a door in my bedroom, though…"
The sentence trailed away once more. This time, however, Holmes finished for me.
"An intruder either kicked it out of his way or searched then hid it to cover his actions."
I nodded slowly. "I couldn't find a way through the winding paths, but that doesn't mean there isn't one." A moment dug through my bag's many pockets. "Everything's here. Do you have any suspects, yet?"
"One." His long stride returned to the tapestry much faster than I could match. "But I do not have enough data. How far away from the house does this take you?"
"Half a mile?" I suggested. "Maybe more. I could see the top of the manor over the garden walls, but I never found a path that led to the house. The walk back took a bit over twenty minutes."
"Because it is long?"
"Because it's dark," I corrected. "Light enters through windows too high to spot, but it's only enough to avoid running into a wall. The floor is slightly uneven in the manor and hard packed dirt underground, and I never did decide how the underground part of the tunnel had any light."
"You thought to look because of Sir Walter's description."
I nodded, briefly relaying all he had told me after Holmes left. "The frayed threads and a slight discoloration caught my attention this morning," I finished, "and his description of the one at Thrombak made me wonder. I came back here when he had work to do. I didn't know where you were."
A wave of his hand brushed the hinted question away, his focus on the tunnel in my room. I saw the decision a second before he voiced it.
"Do you want to go tell him what we found or come with me?"
Go with him. Of course. He should not need to ask that, and grabbing the candles prompted a twitched grin. He retrieved his bag from the other room, waited for me to loop my own over my shoulder, then pressed the loose stone.
I rather hoped his detour meant I would not be sleeping in this room tonight.
oooh, looks like Watson found a piece of the puzzle. Or at least something that might prove useful later :)
Every comment makes my day, so thank you to those that have taken the time to review!