The basement staircase was colder than the rest of the mansion.
As Vanessa descended the narrow steps, she felt the air change around her. The scent of smoke and burning wood from the upper floors slowly faded, replaced by the damp, mineral smell of stone that had been buried beneath the estate for decades.
Behind her, Marco pulled the heavy door closed and slid the iron bolt into place. The metal lock clanked loudly in the quiet stairwell.
"Well," he muttered, looking up the staircase, "that buys us about thirty seconds before someone upstairs realizes we vanished."
Vanessa didn't slow down.
"Then we should use those thirty seconds wisely."
The stairs spiraled down deeper than she expected. The walls were rough-cut stone, and small recessed lamps along the sides provided a dim amber glow. It wasn't the kind of lighting meant to make a place comfortable.
It was the kind meant to keep people moving.
Marco jogged to keep up with her.
