Chapter 7Professor Meadwell had come down the path to the cave. “Do you really think such a thing is likely to happen, Miss Vanlith?”
His voice was loud in the sudden silence that followed the wind and her words, as if they were still only in the eye of a hurricane, and the wind might return at any second.
“It already has,” Peter said.
Lyne expected him to gloat about his superstitions being confirmed, but his tone was quiet. Reverential, she might have called it, except there was nothing to revere about a wind that could break apart millennia-old rocks.
“What do you mean ‘it’s already’—ah.” The professor stepped inside. His mouth stayed open as he took in the fallen shelves and the dark passageway newly opened among the crumbled stone. Then he took a short breath and resumed his brisk
