They came to a fork in the tunnels. One branch, its walls more of the red bricks, led off to the left, sloping downward. The right-hand passage was rough stone, damp and dripping, but rising gradually. Catherine hesitated, looking from one passageway to the other. “I … I can't remember which way to go.”
Her voice wavered. Fer caught the troubled look on the wise man's face.
“Take your time, there's no hurry,” said Fer, even though she longed to be free of the seemingly endless maze. A hollow, booming sound echoed up the passage behind them. Fer told herself it could be anything. Water flowing, a bus driving over a grid, anything.
“I think it's right,” said Catherine. Her lips moved as if she were reciting the words of some song or rhyme. “Except … we've just taken a right. Perhaps it's
