The royal cemetery beneath Camelot was cold and quiet as Mia walked through stealthily. Cracked headstones rose from the ground like jagged teeth that were covered in mist and ancient torches, a combination of sticks wrapped at the top with lit-up rags, their flames weak and flickering, but enough to shine with ghostly glows. The silence was uncomfortable. It felt as though the walls themselves were listening to every silent footstep she took.
Her two short knives were tightly pressed, one in each hand, and her ears, although not as sharp as those of the vampires, were doing their best to draw her attention to every sound around her. She scanned the area for something out of place, something that could lead her to Merlin's tomb.
