Chapter 10
‘Aah . . . such a lovely, white throat . . . ’
The voice came soft, slow and soothing. It made the terror worse. The only way she could resist was by telling herself again that it was a nightmare.
Lubna had been gagged, hooded, dragged from the cave above the graveyard to – where? Somewhere else subterranean, but much deeper. She could tell from the temperature, from the way sounds echoed and from the dead smell of the air. Whether it was day or night she had no idea. So she told herself her soul had left her body in sleep and entered the confused margins of the sphere of dreams. Yes: the hum of voices must be the sound of other sleepers’ nightmares. It must be, she told herself. Or else . . .
The hood was ripped from her head. Green eyes studied her from between the folds o
