DOWN THE SPIRAL STAIRCASE, Catherine led me by the hand, while Joseph hung on behind by the syringe they’d stabbed back into my neck. Upon re-entering the corridor, we took a right instead of left, and followed the curve of the circular path in silence.
Like I’d seen the other way, windowed coves ducked off at intervals, and arch-shaped doors that probably led to other rooms. While we’d been upstairs, someone had set each of the wall candles aflame, and their lambent flickers created dancing shadows across the stone.
The rumbling hit me first—about ninety seconds before the stench crashed down on me with the impact of a forty-foot wave. My gags kicked in. The clench of my jaw to restrain them lest I knock the hypodermic in my neck sent an ache through both sides of my skull.
Like a pote
