The darkness seemed almost palpable, and when we stepped into the tunnel, I could have sworn I felt the inky black press against us, almost like fog. It felt heavy, and damp, and the thin beam of illumination from our shake light did little to push it back. I held the light out at arm’s length in front of me, keeping it trained low so I could watch the platform we were walking on and make sure we didn’t stumble or trip over anything in our path. The way was narrow, and Kyer walked so close behind me, I sometimes felt the toes of his shoe brush against my heel. Both his hands rested on my waist, and every now and then, his fingers fisted in my tunic as if trying to pull me closer.
“I don’t like this,” he muttered.
I admitted, “Neither do I.”
After about half an hour, I glanced back. Wher
