Chapter 25 - Trapped in the Burning Maze
Arthur kicked the wooden hatch open with a splintering crack, revealing a steep flight of stone steps leading down.
The flames were already licking at the kitchen doorway, consuming the antique wallpaper in curling black ribbons.
Thomas lay motionless near the burning archway, overcome by the toxic fumes pouring from the melting carpets.
Arthur helped Vance down into the cold, damp dark of the subterranean foundations.
The air here was freezing, smelling of damp earth, old wine, and ancient stone.
Above them, the ceiling groaned as the massive weight of the burning mansion began to shift and warp under the intense heat.
"She’s down here," Vance warned, his voice weak and shallow as he gripped his bleeding shoulder.
"She knows the layout," Arthur said, reaching the bottom of the steps. "She lived here for ten years."
The cellar was a labyrinth of brick arches and stone storage vaults, built during the nineteenth century.
A beam fell on the floor above, sending a shower of burning sparks and mortar down through the floorboards.
In the flickering light from the ceiling, Arthur saw footprints in the damp dust on the stone floor.
They led straight toward the old coal bunker at the far western wall of the foundation.
"Wait," Vance whispered, catching Arthur’s arm with a trembling hand. "Listen."
Through the roar of the fire above, a rhythmic metallic tapping echoed through the vaulted brick corridor.
*Clink. Clink. Clink.*
It was the bronze candlestick, striking against the cast-iron water pipes running along the foundation wall.
"Arthur..." Eleanor’s voice drifted through the darkness, mocking and melodic. "Did you really think the bulkhead was unlocked?"
Arthur moved forward cautiously, guiding Vance along the damp stone wall until they reached the coal bunker.
The heavy wooden bulkhead door leading out to the snowy yard was padlocked from the inside with a thick steel chain.
The key was missing from the nail where Arthur had kept it hanging for twenty years.
Eleanor stood five yards away, leaning casually against a brick pillar, the chain key dangling from her index finger.
In her other hand, she held the bronze candlestick, coated in soot and dried blood.
"Give me the key, Eleanor," Arthur said, his voice deadly quiet. "We're all going to burn down here."
"I survived three years in a cage because of you, Arthur," she said, her eyes flashing in the darkness.
"I would rather turn to ash right here than let you walk out into the snow," she declared with chilling conviction.
May you like
Behind her, a massive timber crashed from the ceiling above, blocking the stone stairway they had just used to escape.
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