Eternal [HS]

Chapter Forty-Four

The pavement is wet beneath the soles of her shoes that make contact with the ground after a dizzyingly swift climb down from the roof. It doesn't make enough noise to attract unwanted attention from the sentries within the warehouse though. All the soft footfalls do is blend in with the rest of the noisy city, leaving her to do as she pleases with no more Sacrosanct sentries watching from the rooftops. They still remain on the inside and outside of the building, but none of them can spot her or hear her from where they are.

She lifts one of the bulkhead doors open as slowly and carefully as she can. Much to her amazement, the hinges do not whine too loudly, and she only opens it as far as she needs to slip inside through the limited space onto the cement staircase leading down to the dark basement.

Without having to breathe, blink, eat, or sleep, there is nothing to focus on except for the current objective. Before, she might have held her breath to stop her chest from brushing the halfway open door as she scooted herself onto the first few stairs, but she doesn't have to. No air enters her lungs to make them expand and knock against the wood, the only noise she makes is that of her behind softly landing on the steps as she closes the door behind her.

It's much too dark and damp down here for her liking. The way down isn't illuminated with anything now that she has closed the door above her head and sits, staring into the consuming darkness, upon the stone staircase. Her eyes are sharper, though, meant for a predator that lurks in the darkness and thrives in it rather than daylight, so it is only a second before she can see clearly.

She scoots herself down the stairs at first to avoid bumping her head, then walks down with her knife in position to defend herself against any possible attackers. If anyone is down here, she likely would've heard them already, and a quick scan of the room proves no danger is waiting for her, at least for now.

Rather than finding an armed guard, all there is to see are dusty piles of old books, deteriorating furniture draped beneath sheets, and personal items from lives long gone scattered around. A porcelain doll, a weathered photo album—her brows furrow at the surroundings that indicate an existence from long ago, not the modern time she was raised in. The photos look ancient in the way those captured from the late 1800s to early 1900s always do. The one she catches a glimpse of looks like a ghost captured in shades of black and white, and it makes her wonder how long this place has remained unvisited.

The upstairs section of the house is a place of business, a dying family-owned restaurant that barely gets business, but this place, only accessible by the bulkhead doors, seems like no one has stepped foot down here for years. It's clear to tell by the undisturbed layer of dust coating the belongings that not even Adeline's followers have discovered this tunnel entrance.

Soaked strands of hair stick to her face as she repeats the secondhand recounting of the blueprints given to her like a prayer. She starts at the first wall she nears and works clockwise around the room to find which panel will give way to the supposed secret entrance that will lead her to where Mitch and Niall are surely waiting for her in the tunnel below.

Due to the fact that this city has been standing since its conception in 1730, when Harry was merely a nine-year-old boy, it did not surprise her to hear from them that there are other entrances to the collection of tunnels. There were a plethora of reasons for these tunnels to be built back then, most of which relating to chamber pots and waste, or traveling from building to building, or smuggling, but their initial purpose does not matter to her. Their purpose is now to help them find and save Harry, nothing else, and they should be making their way down from the entrances they found by now.

Each panel she passes does not budge when she pushes inward, nor when she wedges her knife between the panel and the wall to nudge it open, so she continues on and on in sharp concentration.