The tunnel swallowed them whole.

Masha’s lantern cast a trembling amber circle, barely strong enough to illuminate more than a step or two ahead. The rest was shadow—thick, old shadow, pressed into the earth for centuries and none too pleased to be disturbed.

Georgie felt the temperature drop as soon as they descended the first few metres.
Cool air. Damp earth.
Silence so complete she could hear her own pulse.

‘How far does this go?’ Riggs whispered, hunching beneath a beam older than all of them put together.

‘Far,’ Masha murmured. ‘Long way. To old road. To stream. You will be safe there.’

‘Safe,’ Fizz muttered, ‘is a wildly optimistic word considering the last forty-eight hours.’

Don, walking j...

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