Morning light enters through the shutters, laying pale bars across Kimberly’s bed. The cracked door stands ajar, and the map lies unrolled across the table.
Marcelline remains beside the bed in her dark traveling cloak, one hand resting near the map. Mama Luigi and his agents have gone from the road.
The map’s red ink shifts without a hand touching it. A fresh line descends from the horned crown, passing through the table’s edge and vanishing beneath the house.
Marcelline
That was not there when we returned. The map is showing us a road below the floor.
A faint knock answers from somewhere beneath the floorboards. Dust sifts from the ceiling, and the red line pulses once beneath the table.
Marcelline
Stay still for a moment, Kimberly. If something below knows we are here, I would rather hear its next question first.
Kimberly
The knocking is coming from beneath the house.