Neither of them was especially forthcoming regarding the details, and Reynevan didn’t insist. He decided to question Samson later on the details of that rapid mutual recognition. Now he listened to the next stage—about how, having seen through each other, Rupilius and Samson Honeypot decided to free Reynevan from the oubliette and do it without magic in order not to arouse suspicion—namely by destroying the padlock to the grating with a blacksmith’s hammer. Now, Samson finished in a whisper, they were nearing the secret passageway connecting Trosky Castle to the outside world.

Because such a passage did exist. And contrary to the legend, it wasn’t legendary.

“Quickly, quickly,” Rupilius urged them. “We must hurry. Something evil is circling above the castle, I can feel it.”

The spiral staircase was steep and the steps extremely uneven. They descended for a long time until their way was blocked by a rough, solid rock wall. There was no sign of a door or an entrance. For Rupilius, though, it didn’t represent a problem.

“Yashiel, Vehiel, Baxasoxa! Effetha! Ecce cecidit paries! ”

The rock wall, as the biblical text of the spell would suggest, didn’t crumble, but parted and drew aside like a curtain. Beyond it was a black gulf emitting a foul odour.

“From here you proceed alone,” pronounced Rupilius the Silesian, handing Samson a lantern. “An hour’s march—not more—and you ought to emerge before dawn. The lantern is magical and will give you sufficient light, but I suggest you hurry. It’s something of a labyrinth, but it’s easy; whenever it branches, you turn right. You’ll cope. Don’t ferret around in side passages, don’t stop for too long, try not to touch anything if there’s no need. Be on your guard. I’ve already said: something evil is hanging above the castle. Farewell.”

“Where will we come out?”

“Oh.” The sorcerer slapped his forehead. “I almost forgot. The exit is located to the north-east of the castle. Near the exit, there’ll be a stream, and by following it downstream you’ll reach a settlement called Ktová. It’s almost right by the Žitava road… And where are your comrades waiting?”

“In the forests to the north of the castle. We’ll find them.”

“Then Godspeed. Farewell, Samson. Farewell, countryman Reinmar. Don’t forget about our agreement.”

“We shan’t. Thanks for everything, master and countryman… If I may ask: what part of Silesia are you from?”

“Poznań. Go now. The lantern is magical, but not everlasting.”