Right, through the bolted door

Morgause admits to herself, finally, that she does care what happens to the other prisoners. But with Lotho **** and the ritual above presumably complete - or on the way - she doesn’t think they’re in immediate danger.

Besides, attempting to free them now and get them out of the cellar could bring the entire cult down on their heads.

With a guilty glance back, and a promise to herself that she’ll let Caius know as soon as she’s safely away, she slides the bolt back across the right-hand door, and opens it.

The tunnel ahead is narrow and cramped, but she’s able to make her way through, doffing her hat as she dips her head, even her slight stature a little large for the passage.

Mercifully, it opens up before too long, the dirt of the cellar giving way to sand, and then to water. It rises as she keeps following the tunnel, threatening to reach her upper thighs, and she draws her skirts up. When the water does pass her waist, she bundles her clothing higher, feeling more than a little ridiculous with her bare ass and legs wading through the water.

But, she considers, it should help her get clean, and she surreptitiously scoops a handful to wipe at her mouth.

She feels the sandy ground below her start to lead upward, the water thinning out, and she finds herself clambering through a thicket of dead grass as she emerges from a hidden entrance - back on the beach.

She takes a moment, eyes closed, skirts back around her damp legs, feeling the sand between her toes and the fresh sea air in her lungs. Then, with a twist of her bangles, she murmurs a quick spell of sending.

“To my ally bring my voice, let him know I’ve made my choice.”

Another glowing mote of light hovers before her, this one patiently waiting for her message. Counting out the words on her fingers, she speaks carefully.

“Villagers are cultists. Be careful. Changing people into creatures. Cellar under barn. More prisoners. Uhh - no that doesn’t count! Shit. Gone to beach. Will see -“

Abruptly, the mote spirits away, its allotted limit reached. The thought of adding a flirtatious comment had crossed Morgause’s mind mid-sending. She realises that’s probably what made her lose her thread.

With a sigh, she traipses back up the beach towards the cave and the waiting temple. A stirring in her chest heralds the incoming excitement and trepidation as she returns, wariness mixed with anticipation. A tingle lower down also lingers, as she pictures Caius’ handsome features. Amongst the fairly unusual entities she’s met so far, he’s by far the most appealing. She can’t quite escape the thought of kneeling in front of him, like she did for the Fish-Priest…

Thoughts of the Witch-Hunter fade away though, as she renters the cave, heading for the wide doors at the end of the cavern. This time, her eyes seem to have little trouble adjusting to the gloom, and in fact, the scaled doors glow with a kind of lost light.

She reaches the edge of the barrier, seeing it shimmer before her now. Unbidden, unknowing, she speaks a single word in a guttural voice that does not seem to be her own.

With a grinding crunch and a rush of water, the doors open.