19
Petro faced us and backed up to the wall to the left of the entrance. He slipped his arm between the old crystals and pressed his hand against the wall. The wall shuddered and slowly swung into itself, revealing a short, narrow passage that disappeared down a winding staircase.
He held out the burning lamp to us. “You go first,” he ordered us.
Miela took the lamp and I squeezed her hand before taking the lead. The stairs led to the lower floor and a long tunnel. A few lamps, spaced some fifty feet apart, cast eerie shadows down the gloomy passage. Our footsteps echoed off the narrow walls as we inched our way down the dark space. The passage was both damp and musty, and Miela choked on the stagnant air.
“It’s not far,” Petro soothed.
I tightened my grip on the makeshift weap
