I give him my most confident smile, even though I don’t feel it. “Of course. I’d walk to hell and back with you, Sin.”
I try to get the words out without laughing, and Sin doesn’t even crack a smile. “That was terrible.”
I purse my lips before continuing, “Hey Sin? Go to hell.”
Chapter 37
Rule thirty-seven:Chug! Chug! Chug!
The entrance to the underworld is completelyunderwhelming. I was expecting large wrought iron gates, maybe welded together with the bones of millions of inhabitants. Or at least a little bit of fire. A three-headed dog would have been a treat, too.
But instead, I’m standing in front of a stone staircase leading down under a mountain.
Shame.
“This is it?” I ask Sin, disappointed.
Sin shrugs. “It’s not the main entrance. No one ever bothers to come here. The Council technically owns the realm, but they’ve never bothered to populate it. The main entrance is likely guarded, so we’re usingthe back door.”
I eye the dark stairwell a bit warily. The tunnel is still large enough that a vehicle could drive through, so I’m not getting claustrophobic.
Silver linings are good.
“How far to the bottom?” I ask, buying myself a few more minutes of fresh air. Caves and I have had a less-than-stellar history together. At least if I piss off Sin, he can be a living flashlight. He seems more durable than a smartphone.
Sin walks to the steps but pauses at the first one. “A few hours. Longer now since we’re going to try and come in undetected.”
He holds out his hand to me. “Ready, kitten?”
I swallow but take his hand. “Ready.”
Sin eyes me before moving. “If anything happens, get out. Get out and hide until I find you.”
He doesn’t give me time to argue, starting down the steps.
The stone steps are steep, and within minutes, we’re swallowed by the darkness. I squeeze Sin’s hand, wondering how the war might play out differently if I trip and break my neck. Neither of us has said a word since entering, not wanting to risk being discovered.
Sin squeezes my hand in response, acknowledging me. A moment later, a faint red ball of energy appears at our feet. Its light is just enough to help me make out where the next step is. We continue down for ages, and with the light from the mouth of the tunnel completely gone, I quickly lose track of time.
This is how I picture sensory deprivation. Our footsteps don’t make a sound, and we take care to be as silent as possible.
At one point, I start counting the steps, just to give myself something else to focus on, other than the constant straining to listen for signs of other life. I hit step six thousand, seven hundred and twelve, when we finally hit level stone.
My muscles are screaming, and I regret not using my college gym pass to work out on the stair master. As it turns out, the few flights to my apartment were insufficient to prepare me for life after college.
We’re inside a large stone corridor, which snakes into the darkness. The air is heavy, and I wonder if oxygen carries here well enough to sustain a mortal. The thought gets my pulse racing, and I try to not think about how far below the surface we are.
It’s a big tunnel, Vivian. It’s not small. You’re fine.
Sin squeezes my hand, and I look up to find him looking down at me, concerned.
Squeezing back, I give him a small smile, hoping it’s reassuring. I nod into the darkness as if to say, ‘Lead the way, glowstick warlord.’
I hope my nod conveyed the message adequately.
Sin squeezes my hand again before we set off into the tunnel. The silence isn’t absolute anymore, and I catch the occasional sounds of water dripping and distant footsteps. My heart thunders in my ears at the footsteps, but Sin continues, seemingly unbothered.
The tunnel starts to split off into multiple paths. We’ve taken two thousand four hundred and ninety-five steps. I can’t remember what turns we took, but atleast counting distracts me from the fact that the tunnels are definitely getting narrower. There’s a smell now, too. It’s making me want to gag the further we go down the tunnel.
