Chapter 116
Bran and I raced through the maze of hallways in search of Ulto and the other, our boots slamming against freshly-polished stone with our weapons still drawn. We'd stumbled into a particularly ancient corridor when a door creaked open to our left, and we braced for attack. Then, like some sort of bizarre apparition, Sim's head popped out from behind it. He waved us in like we were guests late for afternoon tea.
"Over here," he mouthed, looking as calm as ever as if there wasn't a full-blown coup unraveling around us.
We darted through the door without question.
The space we entered was quiet and dim, a long-forgotten hall that looked like no one had stepped inside it in years. Dust blanketed everything, and fading tapestries hung from the walls in tatters, their once-vibrant colors now muted by time. Despite the chaos we'd just fled, this place seemed oddly peaceful.
