Cody walked through the basement corridor, surrounded by barrels and crates. He made his way toward the section where the casks were stored, stopping in front of an especially old and worn one. He knelt down, inspecting the edges and the lock. From the shadows, Wilbur watched him closely, missing no detail.
Then, footsteps echoed nearby. The elf quickly hid behind a stack of barrels and saw a young Black servant walk past.
"What are you looking for?" Kayin asked as he approached and saw Cody inspecting beneath the cask.
The boy shot up, pale and wide-eyed from the fright. Kayin looked at him calmly. Then the young intruder reached for his belt, pulled out a knife, and took a defensive stance.
"No need for that… trust me," said the servant.
Cody stayed silent, clenching his teeth, ready to strike, though his hand trembled slightly.
"Don't… don't come any closer," he warned.
"Can you tell me what you're looking for? Maybe I can help."
The boy remained tense. He swallowed hard and muttered:
"The… dun… dungeons."
"The what?"
"The dungeons!"
Kayin looked at him steadily, pursing his lips.
"Dungeons?" he whispered.
Cody nodded silently.
"Come with me," Kayin said, and began walking toward another section. Cody hesitated, while Wilbur, hidden, held his breath. Finally, the boy decided to follow the servant.
He led him behind a barrel, opened a hidden panel in the wall, and pointed to a narrow passage. Wilbur hadn't noticed it before. It was a tight, damp stone tunnel with thick, stale air.
"What you're looking for is in there," said Kayin.
Cody approached, but hesitated before entering.
"Trust me," Kayin Said.
"Why should I?" Cody replied.
"What other option do you have?"
The boy sighed, gathered his courage, and slipped into the darkness. He descended a long spiral staircase. At the bottom, he found a gallery with cells. In one of them, sitting against the wall, was Sammy.
"Sammy!" Cody whispered and forced open the lock with a rusty lever he found on the ground. "We need to get out of here!"
"Where are we? How did you find me?"
"I'll explain later. Let's go."
The two kids retraced their steps. When they returned to the passage, they found Kayin waiting for them.
"You can't leave like that," he said firmly.
Sammy looked at him defiantly.
"And who's going to stop me?"
Kayin tossed her a long, dark evening gown with lace and a mask.
At first, they were both puzzled. Then they understood. Sammy began changing immediately.
"Time's ticking," Kayin warned, and walked away.
"Who is that guy?" asked Sammy.
"What does it matter… Just hurry and get dressed," said Cody.
Minutes later, dressed and ready, they prepared to head up the stairs to the kitchen when, suddenly, a figure appeared before them: Wilbur, blocking the staircase, aiming a weapon at them.
"Where do you think you're going?" he said mockingly.
"Oh, look who's here," Sammy replied.
"Did you really think you'd get away with it? Hand over the journal and the letters."
"You filthy rat… you managed to sneak away," Sammy spat.
"I could say the same. Only you took what I need."
"You or the Carioca? Because he's here, in the house," Cody cut in.
Sammy narrowed her eyes, furious.
"We can do this the easy way or the hard way… You choose," Wilbur warned.
Cody stepped in front of Sammy, hands raised. He had no weapons.
"Don't shoot. You don't want to do this here."
"That pistol probably isn't even loaded," Sammy said.
"Oh, really?" Wilbur growled, pointing the gun at them when suddenly—CLANG!
A sharp, metallic sound rang out in the basement. Wilbur dropped, dazed. Behind him, Kayin stood holding an iron skillet, panting.
"Do I have to solve everything for you?" he huffed.
Sammy stepped forward, kicked the pistol away from the elf, and looked at Kayin.
"Why are you helping us?"
"Because I want to leave with you… but I need you to get me out."
"Consider it a deal. But we can't leave without the journal."
Kayin smiled, walked over to a door, and pulled out a leather backpack hidden behind it.
"I already had it ready. Being a house slave has its perks: you learn to be silent, to observe… and to memorize combinations," he said, opening the bag.
Inside was the journal.
"Well, what are we waiting for? An invitation to dance?" Kayin joked.
Sammy and Cody headed toward the service door, but Kayin stopped them.
"You can't go out that way. It's full of servants, and the pirates are watching the alley. It has to be through the main hall… Why do you think I gave you that dress?"
The three crossed the kitchen, passed through a service door, and reached the main hall. The lights were dimmer now. The air smelled of spilled rum and perfume fading into the atmosphere. The music had quieted. They walked toward the exit discreetly, Sammy and Cody pretending to be just another couple sneaking off for a private game, followed by the servant.
But just as they reached the vestibule, a sharp voice shattered the calm:
"It's them! The fugitives!"
Wilbur, staggering with a makeshift bandage—a tablecloth from the basement—still bleeding from his temple, pointed at them from the hallway.
The pirates, at first too drunk or startled to move, merely looked up. One of them threw a bottle at him.
"Shut up, Wilbur! You're ruining the party!"
But Wilbur didn't stop. He ran into the main room, where the Carioca was drinking silently, seated beside Betty in her private parlor.
"Balin's granddaughter!" he shouted. "She's here! In the house!"
The Carioca jumped to his feet, his eyes blazing like embers. He drew his sword in one swift motion and turned to Betty, who was no longer smiling.
"I knew it," he said coldly.
Aunt Betty gripped her staff and braced herself to defend, but the pirate was already running, marching to war, determined to catch Sammy… and kill anyone in his way.
Then, Aunt Betty stepped into the hall and shouted:
"Catch those brats and kill the pirates!"
The mercenaries reacted instantly, and the battle erupted.