"There's another way in," Doran said, already moving along the ridge, keeping low. "A supply tunnel. Servants used it to bring food and water without crossing paths with the guards at the main entrance. It should still be there — this place has never cared enough about kitchen staff to change their routes."
They followed him down a narrow, half-hidden trail cut into the rock, one that would have been invisible to anyone not already looking for it.
The tunnel mouth, when they found it, was barely wide enough for one person to pass through at a time, choked with old cobwebs and the smell of damp stone.
"After you," Braka muttered, eyeing the cramped opening with visible distaste.
They moved in a single file — Doran first, then Valen, Kael, and Braka bringing up the rear.
The tunnel sloped downward, the air growing colder and staler the deeper they went, the violet torchlight from outside fading entirely until they were navigating by touch and memory alone.
