Thin strands of cobwebs kept Ireena and Andrei company.  They hung from the walls and ceiling, wafting about as if the dim breeze from the narrow vent was a strong wind.  In the pitch black confines of the small hollowed out stone hideaway it was difficult to discern if there were spiders amongst their midst.  The occasional sensation of a minute insect crawling across their skin in the stale blackness suggested there were spiders or other such vermin.  Though paranoia could just as easily be blamed for such trickery of the senses.<br/><br/>How long would it take for dawn to come?  Andrei was uncertain of that exact answer when he first began to pray to see it once again.  The muffled gong of the Burgomaster's grandfather clock chiming ten times from the seemingly distant study that laid just beyond the bookshelf finally informed the guard that the night was still young.  So the prayers continued as he sat in the silence, resting his back against the uneven stone wall while he waited for the lady Ireena to recover.<br/><br/>Slowly but surely her breathing seemed to ease and the bite marks hidden away under the strands of her lush golden hair had scarred over.  Whatever pain or euphoria she had felt had evaporated away as the daughter of the Burgomaster began to regain her senses.  Just in time to hear the squeaking of the rats.  The lowest of his minions.<br/><br/>In the silence that had engulfed the manor they were easy to hear.  Scurrying about the floors and in between the walls.  Squeaking, scratching, sniffing as they scoured the manor.  But their shelter remained undiscovered for now, despite the sound of the rats just beyond the bookshelf that concealed them.  Eventually the clock from the study would chime the eleventh hour, but that moment seemed to be an unfathomable distance away.