sniffed. “Barbarian.”
“Says the marauder,” he grumbled as he tapped on the stone door. Three, two, then four taps.
A pause and it swung open.
Stepping inside, she saw no one there. She glanced side to side. “How did it open?”
“Remote controlled. The person on door duty listens for the correct code. Get it right and the latch is released.”
“And if you get it wrong?” she asked.
“There’s a reason why this door has remained secret.”
“How do you know the code?”
He tapped his temple. “Now shh. We aren’t exactly supposed to be in these tunnels.”
The rebuke made her realize how complacent she’d gotten. She usually wasn’t the one yapping in situations that required caution.
He led the way to the back of the tomb. She saw the opening in the wall, big enough to slide a body through, too dark to see inside.
At the far end a stone altar with candelabra on each end awaited. He twisted the arm on the left and a grinding sound preceded the alter sliding aside and revealing an opening.
Yet another hole she’d have to blindly climb into. It was becoming a habit with this king.
At least this one was well lit. She found herself in a short corridor that led into a big one, the walls crumbling somewhat and showing signs of patching. At least some kind of maintenance occurred but didn’t extend to the floor. She noticed it was broken up in some spots, untouched in others. Oddly rusted rails remained bolted into the concrete. Did they once have an underground train?
She’d spied a train once at the mountain pass—the only way out of Emerald that she’d known of at the time, and heavily guarded. It appeared as a centipede chugging along a track.
From the shadows stepped a thing, hulking and wide.
“Ambush!” She drew her knives and threw them.
Chapter 18
Roark stopped the blades before they hit Jorah.
“What da fuck!” Jorah jiggled, a mountain of man, beast, and a bit of gelatin, or so his friends claimed. He was Darius’s first mate.
“He’s got a shield!” Casey exclaimed, pulling a gun.
Roark placed himself in between them. “Don’t kill him. He’s part of my brother’s crew.”
“You know him?” She glared suspiciously.
“Yeah.”
“Knew he’d be here?”
“Yeah.
“Yet made me believe we were sneaking in?”
He grinned. “Yeah.”
He expected the slug to his gut. It still hurt.
“You’ll pay for that later,” was all she said as she swept past him.
He looked forward to it. The last time she’d used her mouth. What horrible pleasure would she inflict this time?
“Who dat?” Jorah asked as she kept striding.
“Casey.” He bit his tongue before adding, my future queen. He doubted she’d agree. He wasn’t even sure she liked him yet. But he would keep working on it because there was something about her. Something honest and true, beautiful and fierce.
However, figuring out how to convince her to become his partner in life wouldn’t happen today. Or tomorrow. Not with the danger hanging over his head.
They followed her, and Jorah, eyeing Casey’s stiff posture, said, “I donna think she likes ye.”
“She doesn’t.”
Jorah snorted. “Canna say as I blame her. Ya shoulda warned her ‘bout me.”
“Yes, he should have,” she snapped over her shoulder, showing she paid attention.
“I guessin’ you’ll want two rooms. Or should I ask for a cage to punish de king for being an arse?”
“Hey,” Roark protested.
Casey turned a bright smile on Jorah. “Cuffs would also work, and that will be one room. We’re going to share, aren’t we, Your Majesty?” Her eyes shot sparks.
He got the feeling she really intended to make him pay for his trick. If there was wrestling, he hoped it didn’t involve clothes.
“What’s the situation in the city?” he asked.
Darius had left a good portion of his crew behind while he visited Roark. They’d spent their time on shore visiting family and friends while also watching over the ship, which was berthed in the bay.
“Ye want da rumors or fact?”
“Let’s start with fact so we can see how much the rumor is based on it.”
Jorah’s boots clomped as they walked through the tunnels. “The king is sick.”
“What kind of sick?”
“The kind he won’t recover from. As to what made him ill…” Jorah rolled his shoulders, and they kept rolling until his flesh caught up. “Dere are a few theories and no confirmation. Da first is dat he’s old. Da Enclave says his body is shutting down.”
“He’s only sixty.” Roark recalled the king’s father living to almost a hundred. Although he abdicated around eighty.
“Which brings us to da second possibility. Poison.”
“Seems kind of long