Chapter Eleven
At first, I couldn’t see anything. I blinked, eyes straining against the black around me. Then I tried to tell myself that the cool, silent darkness should be reassuring. After all, it would’ve been a lot worse if we’d stumbled into a main hallway populated by blank-faced hybrid guards.
I bumped into something hard and lumpy and smelling vaguely of sweat. Lance’s voice snapped at me, “Watch it!”
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
Michael sounded infinitely more at ease. “Lance, we need you now. You saw this place. You know more of it than either Persephone or I.”
I heard Lance expel a breath, followed by a faint scratching noise, as if he had eased his way along the wall a little ways and the zipper of his jacket had caught on the rock wall. “Give me a minute.”
“Of course.”
I wished
