The constant trickle of water and the occasional echoed thump from something further up in the tunnels drowned out the growls that had stalked them above ground. The smell of damp and mildew made for a pleasant alternative to the cloying stench of blood and human waste that had often stopped their breath. Helena led them further in with the confidence of a frequent visitor. She ignored the smaller side tunnels that spilled their own water collections into the underground stream. They kept walking straight ahead, the glint of sunlight growing tiny behind them until they walked in near darkness only broken by the tiny strips of light from the street gutters. Every now and then Helena would pause to check the markings on the walls beside the tributary tunnels with the aid of a Seth’s tiny tor
