The floor was made of those small white octagonal tiles with a line of black tiles running about a foot from either wall.
Forty-seven paces from the kitchen, the tunnel widened into a small room.
The black tiles formed a complicated Celtic knot in the center of the room.
There were passageways that opened across from ours, and one to either side.
We took the one to the right.
Here the floor was rough wooden planks that showed the marks of being hand hewn.
It creaked a little under Samuel, who was the heaviest of us.
"Eighteen," he said, and there was a yellow door with an old- fashioned key hanging off a hook--the first door we'd seen in the Elphame.
Samuel took the key from the lock and opened the door.
"Doc?" said Gabriel.
"What are you doing here?" "Gabriel."Jesse pushed past Samuel.
Key in hand, Samuel followed her in.
Ariana and I brought up the rear.
Gabriel was hugging Jesse.
"What are all of you doing here? Did she get you, too?" The room was white.
White stone walls, white ceiling with clear crystals hanging down to light the room.
The floors were made of a single slab of polished white marble.
There were two beds with white bedding.
The only color in the room came from Gabriel and the man who was lying on one of the beds.
He looked dreadful, and I'd never have recognized him if Ariana hadn't whispered his name.
Phin sat up slowly, as if his ribs hurt, and Ariana rushed to kneel beside his bed on one knee.
He frowned at her.
"Who?" "Grandma Alicia," she said.
He looked startled, then he smiled.
"Has anyone ever told you that you don't look like anyone's grandmother? Is it a rescue, then? Like in the old stories?" "No," said Samuel, who had turned to face the doorway.
"It's a trap." "Welcome to my home," said a familiar dark voice.
"I'm so happy you came to call." The woman who stood in the doorway of the cell was lovely.
Her hair was dark smoke, pulled back in a complicated braid composed of many small plaits.
It flowed down her back and dragged the ground like an Arabian show horse's tail and set off the porcelain of her skin and the rose of her lips.
She was looking at me.