Past-Death walked down the hallway once more and paused between the last two doors in the dungeon. She looked from one to the other. There was no way to know what was behind them without opening them.
Which she wasn't about to do. The deity in her had been scared enough to lock these … creatures up. With no power whatsoever, she wasn't stupid enough to open the doors.
Then again, she wasn't convinced this wasn't a dream. What harm might come of opening a door in a dream?
She pressed her hands to one of them, willing the dungeon to tell her its secrets.
Nothing.
At least they're still locked. It was the best sign she was about to get on this trip.
If this was real, she needed to find Deidre, who had been taken from their cell. Past-Death didn't want to guess what grudge Harmony bore the Dark One or his mate, but she didn't think Deidre's treatment here was going to be handled with kid gloves. The fear and urgency she'd experienced watching Deidre being taken was strong in the dream, the urgency real.
She owed it to the woman to try to help her.
Turning, past-Death made her way down the corridor and paused in front of the door to the cell she shared with Jared. The petrified wood was cool beneath her fingertips, and she dwelled on the sensations, not understanding how this was neither a dream nor reality. It wasn't possible for her to be outside her cell, and yet, it felt so real …
Shaking her head, she continued down the corridor, feeling the familiar sense of safety granted a person who knew they were in a dream. Most of the cell doors were open, the depths empty. A few closer to the entrance were closed, a sign Harmony had tossed others into the dungeon.
Past-Death hesitated at the bottom of the stairwell ascending from the dungeon into the newer of the two basements. There were guards there, she knew, or should be. There had always been guards stationed on the subfloor between the palace proper and the dungeon during her time. If there were keys, she'd be able to find them.
Like this is real. She hesitated, not convinced there was any use in tracking down keys or Deidre in a dream.
The demon seemed to think she was capable of leaving the cell. Not that she'd ever trust the word of a demon but …
Stranger things had happened. Being alone in her dream was rather peaceful, the stressors of her human life absent.
No harm in looking, especially if I find Deidre. Past-Death trailed one hand against the wall of the stairwell the way she used to whenever she visited the dungeon.