Following Finley

I stared at the opened bookcase. What just happened? How many people know about this? My face paled. Am I in more trouble? All thoughts of the Norads escaped my attention. This open passage held much more excitement.

"Finley!" I called.

The round-faced man ran to my side with his hand on his sword, ready for any threat. Well, maybe not any. His face transformed from a ready set determination to slack jawed wonder.

"Is this supposed to be here?" I questioned with a quirky grin.

"I certainly did not know about it." Finley admitted.

"Should we tell someone?" I had no idea how to proceed.

"Probably," Finley started to turn back toward the pile of books with a disappointed tone.

"Well, we can discuss who to tell while we explore," I teased as I opened the bookcase to its full width.

My shadow's face lit up. "Really?"

"We can't let Alejo be the only one with a little adventure, now can we?" I hoped to repay him for everything he has done for me. This treat just happened to fall in my lap.

"Certainly not!" Finley led the charge through the narrow passage.

Finley's broad shoulders scraped along the wall of the narrow passageway in a rhythmic pattern from side to side as he walked. Luckily that cleared most of the cobwebs out of my way. It also stirred up dust, which was not so lucky for me. My clothes would need a thorough washing.

The passageway was dim, but light seemed to creep in from cracks in the walls. I stopped to examine one of the cracks, it looked like another entrance. What it might look like from the palace side or where it would lead, I could only guess. Who knows how many places this passage could take us.

I stopped at another beam of light. This one looked rectangular and did not touch the floor. What could make such a shape? My fingertips explored the shape. It felt like a canvas. This was the backside of a painting! The light seeped through the edges of the frame that hid this passage.

My eyes squinted, adjusting to the low light. I could see the outline of a landscape scene with a warrior atop a steed running into the foreground. I knew this painting. Where had I seen its mirror image before? I knew I had seen it before.

Finley looked over his shoulder toward me. I guess my noisy footsteps gave away that I was no longer on the move. He returned to me to examine what caught my attention.

After a moment of realization, Finley answered my unspoken question. "That's from the gallery above the great hall," he whispered to me.

"Hmm? Did you say something?" We both froze at the unknown baritone voice, unsure of its origin. Footfalls that I heard and had not fully registered until that moment ceased.

"No. Just walking. You seem jumpy since that group of men received an assignment from the Swordsmen," a carefree tenor responded. This one was clearly from the other side of the painting within the great hall's gallery.

"I just thought I heard something. A 'no' would have sufficed," the baritone barked back. He did not seem to enjoy the other man's commentary. Two sets of steps continued down the hall with one at a more frenzied speed.

Finley and I shared a silent sigh of relief. The men did not suspect us to be hiding in the wall. We also now held an important piece of information. This passage was far from sound proof.

We continued our exploration. Whenever we found a fork in the passage, I would make Finley choose our way. His credentials must include some type of tracking training which I hoped would translate into being able to get us back to the library. My experience with such exercises was limited to finding my own belongings I lost within my own home.

For most of the passage, I could feel sturdy wooden beams along the walls. My shoes met with hard floors that sometimes gave a little too much for comfort, making me think that the floors were also wooden.

One of the turns Finley led us down, slopped drastically. I think we found the ramp to the first floor. Whoever built this maze thought things through. I was thankful that I did not have to attempt stairs in this low lighting.

At the bottom of the ramp, my fingers ran across something other than wood. Stonework began. Finley stopped short in front of me. What was wrong?

"Jack, this passage is darker than the rest, but I have a theory about it. Would you like to turn back, or see if I'm right?" Finley posed in a barely audible whisper.

Hmm. More research that seems impossible or test out a hypothesis? "Let's try out your theory," I responded. I knew he couldn't see my beaming smile. It felt good to let Finley do something special that he wanted to do.

Finley started forward. I placed my hand on his shoulder. If it was going to get darker, I did not want to lose him or run into him.

The stones under my feet started to get more uneven. Occasionally they even felt slippery. Wherever we were, drainage was not the best.

Just as I was getting used to the pitch dark, I started to realize I could see the outline of my hand again. Slowly I could see each of my fingers rather than just the outline. This was more light than any other part of the passage.

I shifted uncomfortably, not sure where the source of light was. My shoulders did not hit the walls as I shifted. It dawned on me that this part of the passage had a much larger width. I leaned around Finley's large frame to see a gate covered in vines ahead of us that poured in sunlight.

Peering through the gate, I saw the hills that surrounded the capital city. The secret passage led outside the palace!

Finley looked at me in elation, "We certainly have to tell someone now!"