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The entrance was a trapdoor hidden behind a mountain of rocks.
"It is smart," explained Finn. "Most people would seek shelter in the cave. They would not think to look for a secret door just a few feet away."
He brushed aside the blanket of pine needles to reveal a large, flat flagstone. He flipped it up on end. Beneath it was a set of wooden stairs which led into the darkness below. He lay down on his stomach and fumbled around the dark walls. Finally, he seemed to find what he was looking for. He pulled out a lantern with a bit of flint stowed handily inside. He cracked the two pieces together to catch the candle's wick. It was dim but serviceable. He went down the stairs first, one hand holding the lantern, the other gripping his sword. Aein followed close behind, pulling the rock back into place.
The stairs led into a natural cavern. The walls sparkled in the firelight.
"I did not even know this was down here," mused Aein in awe as she looked at the dripping stalactites. The entire cave looked like a meringue Cook Bolstad could have created.
Finn gave a low whistle. "It makes a great deal of sense. Saved themselves a lot of work to use this natural opening."
The cave was quiet except for the distant drip of water through the rocks. As they continued on down the path, the sound of water became stronger. Finn held his light to the right and a swift river was flowing through the cavern. Aein paused for a moment to dip her hand into the current. She sniffed at it, then tasted it with her tongue. There was a strong flavor of minerals, but nothing which made her recoil.
"Good?" Finn asked.
She nodded and he lay on the bank beside her to scoop some in his hands. As he went, his leg brushed up against hers, and she felt the strangest surge of protectiveness for him. She placed her hand upon his back.
"Are you all right?" he asked her.
"Don't fall in," she replied, gripping the back of his belt.
He flashed her a smile and shook his head, then leaned forward to drink.
She knew that fear sometimes bonded people together, and the rush, the palpitating heat of terror could be confused for other things. But Finn? He was a good man, she reflected. She was glad he was the one at her side.
"We should be moving on," she pointed out. "The few hours we have until sunrise already don't seem enough."
"Have you slept at all?" he asked.
She didn't have the heart to tell him she had been awake since the morning Princess Gisla arrived. "I try to grab a few winks wherever I can."
They continued on along the path until it dead-ended at a wooden door. It hung open. It should have been barred from the other side.
"Well, we have our answer whether someone used this to get out," said Aein.
Finn gripped her arm bracingly. There was nothing they could do about it, she thought. Whoever escaped was in human form. Hopefully, werewolves couldn't unlatch trapdoors and climb ladders to sneak up after them.
They kept walking and found four more doors, all unlocked, all hanging open. They finally reached a wooden staircase with a door high overhead. Steadily they climbed up. The door was closed, but Finn opened it just a crack to look out. The door was behind a tapestry which had been ripped to shreds. The door itself featured massive scratch marks where some beast had tried to break it down. The hallway was empty, filled with the corpses of both men and animals, ripped apart by this curse.
Finn motioned to Aein for silence. She punched him lightly in the arm and he looked back at her in surprise. She glared at him for the insult. As if she was going to go shouting around this place, alerting the creatures that they had returned. He smiled in understanding, but there was something more in his smile. Like he saw her just a little differently, as more of a peer than an untested kid. He seemed to approve of the change.
Aein pointed towards the kitchen. Finn left the lamp on the steps to the secret passageway and shut the door. Aein realized he was already planning that they might need to make a hasty retreat later. They padded down the hallway. There were snuffling noises in the great hall. Aein was glad Finn was just as happy as she was to let whatever was in the hall be in the great hall. They did not see any people... any living people.
The door to the kitchen hung off of its hinges. Blood was spattered all over the walls. Finn looked at Aein, and they both held their swords tighter as they entered.
Out of nowhere, one of the beasts flew at them. He knocked Finn down and grabbed hold of his arm, shaking him so hard his sword flew out of his hand and clattered to the floor. Aein wasted no time, though. She had been in this situation too many times in the past two days. The only thing that worked was the move she had seen Princess Gisla execute. Pulling her sword above her with two hands, she drove it down, decapitating the animal. She clenched her teeth and did not allow any sort of a cry to escape her lips. They needed to be as silent as assassins if they hoped to survive this.
"Thank you," said Finn. His arm was bleeding again.
Aein stepped over to the drawers where the Cook Bolstad kept the cheese cloths. She tossed it back to Finn. "You're making a habit of this," she warned.
He caught it mid-air and pressed it against his wound. "I do it just to annoy you."
The kitchen was destroyed. Every pot, every piece of crockery was on the floor. Tables were upended. Great clawed gashes were everywhere. There was the smell of rotting things in the air. Aein placed her hand over her nose, the stench of bodies and spoiled milk almost more than she could bear.
"Cook?" she whispered. "Cook Bolstad? Are you there?"
There was no response. Slowly, she picked her way through the room. Face after face she recognized. Some of the butcher knives had been used to fend off the monsters, but they hadn't stood a chance. Not against monsters like these.
But the door to the larder at the back of the kitchen was closed. Aein felt her heart begin to pound. It seemed strange, in a room with so much destruction, with every door ripped open, that one would remain undisturbed. Did Cook Bolstad stay locked safely inside since she left him? Did any other survivors try to hide in there?
Aein picked her way through the spilled flour and broken eggs. She knocked gently at the door. Finn raised an eyebrow. She knocked again. There was no sound of scuffling. No immediate attack. So, she grabbed a hold of the larder door and pushed it open.
The answer waited for her within. One of the werewolves lay dead, his head chopped off with a meat cleaver. And behind him was the man who had used himself as bait to lure the beast away from the kitchen: her dear friend Cook Bolstad.
His head raised slightly and his eyes squinted in the light. "Well, look what the dog dragged in."