Ruslan had the impression of an open trapdoor with stone steps leading down, but his mind was no longer working. He felt as if it had been pushed into a tight, dark corner of his skull and locked there like a small, furry animal in a cage. He could still see through his eyes, still hear through his ears, but everything was at a long distance as if he was looking through the wrong end of a telescope.
Nothing was important anymore, not where he was going. His thoughts crawled through treacle and were blurred around the edges, slipping and sliding away from him every time he tried to use them. If he concentrated really hard he could recall his name, but not much else.
The demons led Ruslan along a stone-flagged passageway that seemed to be illuminated only by a greenish fungus clinging to t
