Chapter 11: The First Step Down the Stairs
A beam of harsh white light cut through the gloom of the stairwell, sweeping across the peeling yellow paint and dancing over the dust motes hanging in the damp air. Heavy boots began to descend the wooden steps, slow and rhythmic—one, two, three—each impact vibrating through the foundation stones. Julian dropped to his knees in front of the cage, his fingers fumbling with the heavy ring of keys as he tried the first iron tooth in the brass padlock. It didn't turn. It jammed with a dry, metallic click that sounded as loud as a pistol shot in the enclosed space. Behind him, Clara pressed herself flat against the brick wall, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps, the phone slipping from her fingers to clatter against the concrete. "Hurry," she whispered, her voice cracking for the first time. Maya reached out from between the bars, her small, cold fingers wrapping around Julian’s wrist to steady his hand. "Try the small one with the notch," the girl said, her voice unnaturally calm, pointing to a dark, rusted key near the center of the ring. Julian didn't ask how she knew. He slid it into the cylinder, felt the pins lift with a satisfying slide, and twisted hard. The shackle popped open with a sharp snap.
