She gave a whoop of excitement. “But no. Not a wall. Hang on…” He heard a teeth-jarring high-pitched screech bounce off the narrow walls, then Isis shouted up. “Smell that? That, Mr. Thorne, is the stink of a million bats and freedom! I’m coming back up there—”
His shoulder slumped against the opening, and he let out his breath. “No. Stay put. I’ll come down.”
“I have the torch—”
“I’ll find you.” Anywhere, anytime. Every time.
He started down the stairs. On the seventh tread, the door above him ground closed, the sound resounding in the stairwell. The darkness was absolute.
“Oh, God. What was that? Are you okay?”
Thorne laughed. “I’m on my way to see these bats for myself.”
He followed the stink of bat shit, and the sound of Isis’s voice down the stairs.
ISIS COULDN’T SEE MORE than a couple of feet in any direction. She wrapped her long scarf over her head and face, but she could still feel the air move with the beat of the bats’ wings overhead.
She winced with each of Thorne’s heavy steps as he navigated the stairs. Her leg muscles were quivering with exertion, and she didn’t have a sliced-and-diced thigh. “Almost to the bottom!” she yelled. Having no idea how far down he was, just wanting to be his cheering section.
Her head swam and Isis sat down before she fell down. No water, no food, no more adrenaline. The slog down the stairs had taken all her reserves. She plopped her butt down on the sandy marble floor, her back against the threshold to make sure the door stayed open. She peered into the unrelieved darkness, resting her elbow on her undrawn knee and cupping her hand over her nose and mouth.
The room felt large, and dear God—the smell. Her eyes and nostrils stung, burning from the acrid stench of ammonia.
The space was filled with the cacophony of squeaks, scratching, and wings flapping of assorted rodents occupying the ceiling high above. “Please stay there, and please don’t crap on me—again.”
Pushing to her feet when she heard Thorne’s approach, Isis winced. God, it must be so painful coming down all those uneven stairs sideways, the only way his feet would fit on the treads. Wanting to race up to meet him, she stayed where she was, arm extended into the stairwell to light his way. If the upstairs portal had slammed shut without her amulet, she wouldn’t budge until Thorne reached her side.
The smell made her eyes water, and she figured if she couldn’t see what she’d been sitting on, or walking on, ignorance was bliss. She was already filthy, and in a few minutes Thorne would be just as stinky and dirty as she was. Small comfort after what they’d been through, but, hey, she’d take it.
From a distance she heard a sharp sound of a horn, or car alarm—but when she tried to separate it from the sound of the bats crying and flapping overhead she figured it was just her imagination and wishful thinking telling her they were near civilization.
“When you turn that last left-turn jog, watch the next few steps; they’re even narrower and steeper. There you are!”
Surprising herself, she burst into tears as soon as she saw him. Dashing the tears from her cheeks, she flung her arms around him and hugged him so tightly he let out a strangled laugh. “Did you think the aliens beamed me up to their spaceship?” he teased, hugging her back. He held her by the shoulders, then used his thumb to wipe away a tear from her chin. “Let’s get the hell out of Dodge.”
“Under normal circumstances…” Isis sniffed, slipping her hand into his because she loved the way he curled his fingers around hers. She handed him the torch, which was now less than two feet long, the tip charred and crunchy, the glow almost out.
“Which,” she added, “I’d like to point out, these are not—having those flying rats swooping overhead and using my head as a toilet would freak me out. However, these are not normal circumstances, and I don’t give a damn as long as they stay way up there, and leave us the hell alone. What are you—Oh, God, it was almost better not being able to see this.” She squinted into the sudden brightness after what felt like years in the dark.
Somehow Thorne had unerringly found a large spotlight in the darkness and managed to switch it on. He did have eyes like a cat.