<span style="font-style: italic">‘Princess’ <br/></span><br/>Mouse’s toes curled at the word. Was this<span style="font-style: italic">the </span>princes? If so, that made things more<span style="font-style: italic">complicated</span>. Or, if she was lucky, Navarez was just being delusion ally romantic like when he called her<span style="font-style: italic">Angel</span>.<br/><br/>Last, but not least, mouse arrived on the ceiling, swung up on another rafter, unsure if the first would hold all three, particularly as she was wearing the guards armor.<br/><br/>She kept her body close to the wall, it was wet and moldy, she felt around with her fingers. She was confident that<span style="font-style: italic">it</span>was there, but finding it<span style="font-style: italic">seemed</span>like an eternity though it was only a moment.<br/><br/>She found the mold filled seam, and pushed. Dirt crumbled to the floor below and the stone covering Mouse’s hole gave way. She pushed it in… then to the side… it revealed an opening only just large enough for Navarez to fit through.<br/><br/>She turned to the pair. “I’ll lead now. The lay second, and you last. Make sure you cover the entrance with the rock. Don’t push it back to far or the rock will fall out and into the cell. Then our escape-route will be left open.” If Mouse ever landed herself in prison again, she’d need her passageway undiscovered.<br/><br/>She had to crawl through the tunnel on her hands and knees, sometimes her elbows. She hoped she did not have to remind either of them to be quiet. Sometimes they had to turn and climb, sometimes they had to descend. Mouse would make them stop and rest several times, it was a long way and the air was thin. Besides, they would have time. Even if the guards noticed the prisoners were missing, Mouse had left their cell-door open, they would be looking everywhere<span style="font-style: italic">except </span>the cell for their trail.<br/><br/>Sometimes they would squeeze through arches and masonry, as if it were a man-made tunnel, other times the going was rough and lumpy as if dug out by a mole (or a mouse, as it were), or split by nature herself. When she was here, Mouse always imagined that she was in the cracks between worlds.<br/><br/>The passage would become very humid, then the tunnel would intercept an underground river… the sewer system under the city.<br/><br/>“You both know how to swim?”