25

The room was quiet and almost dark. To the side of the entrance, dimly flickering, burned a two-horned golden candelabra. Taking a torch from the wall, Paraman waited until it flared up properly, and, bypassing the stone table, approached the secret door. Two turns of the key opened a passage to a narrow dark corridor with an almost sheer stone staircase, worn out over hundreds of years. Holding the scabbard, Paraman intercepted the torch and began to rise slowly. There were still a couple of hours before dawn - it was time to take a bath and get some sleep.

- Need to talk. - The voice, which was heard from the darkness, to which the light did not reach, reverberated with a booming echo from the cold walls.

Paraman stopped and, reaching for a steel ring driven into a stone, inserted a torch into it.

– How long have you been waiting? he asked ingratiatingly, climbing a few more steps.

"No," said Carl. I decided it would be safer here.

- For whom? – Not holding back a smile, Param
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