Chapter 422: The Sudden Detour

Cherion stood in the quiet outer corridor, listening to the muffled rustling of papers coming from behind the walnut door of the High Priest’s study. The air carried the faint scent of old stone and burning wax.

After a few minutes of standing perfectly still, his legs started to ache from the built-up tension of the morning. He needed to move, just a little, to shake off the restless energy buzzing under his skin.

He took a slow step away from the door, his boots making almost no sound on the runner rug lining the hall.

The South, Cherion thought, his mind wandering right back to the conversation he’d just had. He made his way down the corridor, passing narrow arched windows that let in slivers of light.

How was he supposed to pull off an entire trip to a place he had never actually seen? He could probably use some excuse, Zarius’s "illness", travel exhaustion, or just a sudden bout of amnesia.

Feeling a tiny bit better about his impromptu strategy, Cherion tipped his head back, staring up at the vaulted stone ceiling. The stonework up there was incredible, massive grey arches perfectly slotted together without a visible trace of mortar, enduring centuries of capital weather without so much as a crack.

He exhaled slowly, taking a half-step backward and leaning his weight against the shadowy wall between two stone pillars to wait for the High Priest.

The moment his shoulder blades hit the stone, something clicked.

It wasn’t a loud noise, just a faint, mechanical snick that vibrated straight through the thick fabric of his coat.

Before Cherion could even turn his head to see what the sound was, the solid stone wall behind him simply... gave way.

"Wha...!"

Cherion’s arms shot out, his fingers scrambling wildly for purchase, but he caught nothing but empty air. His stomach completely dropped out from under him as the section of wall pivoted backward like a massive, counter-weighted door.

He fell backward into pitch darkness.

His boots slipped out from under him, hitting a steep, slick stone incline. He let out a sharp yelp, desperately trying to brace himself, but gravity yanked him down before he could find his balance.

He hit the stone slope hard, rolling and sliding blindly down a steep, winding chute. The air around him was freezing and smelled of dust. He smacked his shoulder against a hard curve in the stone, his elbow knocking against the floor as he slid faster and faster.

What the hell, what the hell, what the hell...!

The slide sent him flying out the other end with absolutely no dignity.

Cherion tumbled onto a flat surface, rolling five times across hard stone before finally skidding to a halt on his back.

He lay there for a long, breathless moment, staring up into the absolute darkness above him. The only sound was the frantic, hammering rhythm of his own heartbeat and the harsh rasp of his breathing echoing off the unseen walls around him.

"Oww..." Cherion groaned, wincing as he slowly pushed himself up onto one elbow. His shoulder throbbed, and his hip felt like it had been hit with a hammer, but nothing felt broken.

Then, sheer panic spiked through his chest.

The book!

He immediately grabbed at the front of his coat, his hands frantically patting his chest. His coat had popped open during the tumble, and his inner pocket was completely flat.

"No, no, no," Cherion muttered, scrambling to his knees in the dark.

He dropped his hands to the cold stone floor, sweeping his palms wildly across the rough ground. If he lost the only existing record of his powers because he accidentally fell down in a shady place like this, he was going to throw himself off the capital bridge.

His fingers brushed against cold stone, a patch of loose gravel, and finally, a smooth, familiar texture.

He snatched the leather-bound notebook off the ground, letting out a massive breath of relief as he clutched it tightly against his chest. "Thank God. Okay. Okay, I have it."

Now that the immediate crisis was averted, his brain finally caught up to his surroundings.

He was sitting on a cold, solid floor, completely surrounded by darkness. But as his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he realized it wasn’t actually pitch black.

Cherion slowly got to his feet, wincing as he brushed a thick layer of grey dust off the knees of his trousers. He tucked the journal safely back into his coat, buttoning the front tight so it wouldn’t fall out again.

He decided to just pick a direction and keep moving. Forward, backward... honestly, he didn’t even know anymore. He just wanted to get somewhere. Then his hand brushed against the wall, and the nearby torches suddenly burst into flame.

Heavy iron sconces were bolted into the ancient stone walls at regular intervals, each holding a thick, slow-burning torch that sent long, flickering shadows across the floor.

The narrow tunnel opened into a much wider, rectangular hall beneath the ground. And apparently, someone had gone all out with the lighting.

Cherion stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening in total disbelief as he took in the space.

This wasn’t a forgotten maintenance basement or a collapsed cellar. The floor was relatively clear of debris, the air was cool but not completely stagnant, and the torches were lit.

"What the hell..." Cherion whispered, his voice bouncing softly off the low ceiling.

He slowly made his way down the middle of the hall, looking around as he went. Large alcoves had been carved into the walls, most of them sitting empty. A few, however, were packed with huge wooden chests reinforced with iron bands, while others held rows of tall stone urns with their tops sealed under thick layers of wax.

It looked like an underground vault, completely hidden from the pristine, blindingly white sanctuary above.

The problem was, he wasn’t even sure which way he’d come from anymore. He’d spent so much time turning around and wandering in circles that he’d completely lost track of the way back.

Cherion took another step, his boots grinding loudly against a patch of loose dirt on the floor. He grimaced, wincing at the noise. He really shouldn’t be down here. The High Priest was probably stepping out of his office right now, wondering where his guest had vanished to.

"Alright," Cherion muttered to himself, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. "Just find the freaking staircase, sneak back up, and pretend I got lost looking for the bathroom. No problem."

He turned away from the slide and started walking cautiously down the torch-lit hall, keeping close to the wall.

He kept walking and walking, but the corridor seemed to stretch on forever. Every time he thought he might finally reach the end, another stretch of stone appeared ahead, looking exactly like the one he’d just crossed. This definitely wasn’t the way he’d come in earlier. He was starting to wonder if he’d somehow taken a wrong turn without realizing it, because there was no way this place could possibly be this large.

His fingers twitched at his sides. He was seriously tempted to just stop and scream at the top of his lungs. Maybe someone would hear him. Maybe someone would come looking. Or maybe he’d just embarrass himself in front of whatever ancient, possibly cursed thing was hiding down here.

Unfortunately, he had a feeling screaming in a mysterious underground passage wasn’t exactly the smartest idea. So he swallowed the urge, took another breath, and kept walking.

Now the more he think about it, this might be a secret passage? To use in some kind of emergency, now he wondering where the Grand Temple lead to?

The more he thought about it, the more he suspected this might actually be some kind of secret passage. Maybe it had been built as an emergency route, something the temple could use if the main entrances were ever compromised. That would explain why it was hidden away and why it seemed to go on forever.

But then another thought hit him. If this really was a secret passage, where was the other end connected to?