"Though the dungeon, the scourge, and the executioner be absent, the guilty mind can apply the goad and scorch with blows." - Lucretius

The dark tunnel stretches on for years. The cool rock, that has stood for ages and will do so for many more to come, almost makes me believe that anything is possible here - as if I time could be meaningless here.

The ligtglobe's soft, golden hues stretch on, illuminating just as far as the next corner. This maze of tunnels would be deadly to anyone who got lost in them, yet the paths are always so clear. Whenever I can't remember which turn to take next, I would look for the small symbols carved into the floor at the intersections. After a while Caith gets the gist of things and would soon find the symbols, still asking me to interpret them as they don't make sense to him. I'm not going to betray another family secret and explain the code to him.

“There is some water close by. Do you know how to get to it? Would you like to wash?” Caith's voice echoes through the tunnel.

A smile creeps up my lips. “That is a good idea. I have forgotten about the hot water pools here.”

At the next corner, I trace the map which should tell me in what direction the pools are. “We're actually quite close to one of the rooms hidden close by. It should be stocked with food and clothes, that are hopefully not too old.”

Astonishment reflects in Caith's face as I lead him to a room, with a stone door hidden in the tunnel wall. As we enter, I slip the ligtglobe into a slit in the roof, where it brightens up and illuminates a small room with sturdy ancient wooden furniture and three bunkers carved from the stone.

“I had no idea these tunnels were this extensive.”

“You've barely seen the beginning. The tunnels are like Raven's Peak's arteries and veins, running from point to point, connecting it all. My family has exclusive access to the most of it, but the rest of the city use them as catacombs and smuggler routes. They have no idea that our royal vaults are hidden in various places under the city.”

“I'm amazed at how easy you seem to navigate them, even if don't seem to have explored it all.”

“They were all mapped. If you know the code, you could literally go anywhere.”

“Do you have any idea who mapped them?”

“Probably some of my first ancestors, or those before them, as the map is mostly in the language older than the ancient one.”

Caith's eyes widen. “Really?”

I shrug. “That is what I was told.” I see the wheels turning in Caith's head. “What idea is brewing in your head?”

“I'm just thinking that no-one, me included, have ever thought of mapping the tunnels of the Mountains.”

“The Mountains? Which ones are we speaking about?”

“The ones between us and Darke.”

I slide my hand over one of the carved images, the stone sliding away, revealing a small nook with bags of food. After taking one bag, and placing it on the table, I reach inside to see what food it holds.

I hand Caith a tin of biscuits as I open some of the biltong - dried, salted meat meant to last for at least a few months.

Caith sniffs the biscuits in mistrust. “How do you even know that this is edible?”

“I'm not completely sure, but my brothers would have ensured that all our secret caves are well stocked the moment the war started. I am sure the caves are their back up plan, should the siege go to far.”

Caith takes a bite of the biscuits, mumbling: “The bastards probably planned to flee the moment things turned unfortunate, leaving us to fight their battles.”

After getting some clothes from the room, and making our way to the hot water pools to wash (not simultaneously, obviously), we traverse the last stretch of tunnels.

We emerge underneath a stone bunk into a cell in one of the upper levels of Raven's Peak's dungeons, empty since the last of my father's enemies perished.

Caith stands in the middle of the small cell. "This is a clever setup. No-one standing on the outside of the cell would be able to guess that there is an entrance to an escape tunnel."

"And only a few can open this gate."

I walk to the gate, running my hands vertically down the iron bars, as thick as my forearms. After the third time doing so, I finall feel the rune. The gate slides open as I trace it.

Caith doesn't even raise an eyebrow. I guess he has seen magic even more powerful than this.

I lead Caith through the upper level of the dungeon, opening the series of successive gates in the same manner.

Raven's Peak has four levels of dungeons. My ancestors built Raven's Peak to be the ultimate fortress and prison.

I have only been down here once - when my father showed me the secret tunnels that lead out of the dungeons. I avoid using this way out of the castle. When my father brought me down here, the dungeons still had prisoners from the war. My father told me that the first and second levels are for thieves and murderers - people who would eventually be set free.

The third level was dedicated to various torture devices. They were terrifying. I had nightmares about being tortured for weeks afterward.

The fourth level had high-security cells. Prisoners from this level are rarely set free. This level is for prisoners who are to disappear from people's knowledge. My father assured me that this level was empty, and that he had not used this level since the war ended. He said that the few prisoners he had from the war had been moved to the upper to levels, but he refused to take me to this level.

We finally exit the dungeon through a large wrought iron gate. Caith pushes the gate open with an ear-piercing shriek. The gate shrieked, not Caith.

Caith closes the gate behind us. It shrieks again.

"The dungeons have not been used in a while," I inform Caith quite sheepishly.

"I wouldn't have guessed."

I almost laugh, but then I hear multiple footsteps approaching. Caith's shoulders tense.

A company of Ardam guards await us around the next corner, swords drawn. “Halt!”

Caith doesn't even look remotely bothered by encountering them. In fact, if I was one of them, his shoulders, now slack, and the expression of utter boredom on his face would have irked me beyond reason.

Unwittingly, I follow Caith's lead as he raises his hands to the roof.

One of the guards seem deep in thought, and then he registers. “Lads, I have no idea how this is possible, but I swear that these two are princess Aebbé of Ardam and Lord Caith of the Second Order.”

“Lads, I swear he is right,” Caith answers impertinently, causing me to snicker.

The man turns beetroot red.

I show the man my family ring, confirming his suspicion. The guards gasp for words, unsure of how to approach this situation.

Caith defuses the odd situation by suggesting the guards accompany us to my room so he could ensure that he returned me completely safely to my home. The guards, too perplexed to protest, oblige and lead us through the castle to my room.

“I'd suggest you first get some sleep before facing your brother. I can just imagine that that would be more tiring then all the previous days combined.”

“What about you?” I ask and gesture to the guards.

“These kind gentlemen will escourt me out of the castle, back to my people.” He sees my frown. “Don't worry about me. Remember my promise.”