The tunnels empty into a cave. I run, shards of glittering volcanic rock shivering and shattering
around me, lacerating my face and hands. A torch is pressed into my hands, an
urgent whispered “go” in my ear, arms enfold me quick and fierce, then release
in a swirl of fire-lit blonde hair rushing into shadow. The ground tilts and I
stumble, hands pierced by black razor shards as I catch myself. The torch rolls
away and I clamor to my feet, grabbing the torch and running I know not where. The
torch in my hand feels gritty-slick. I can find no hint of direction, no
distant light of escape. Blood stings my eyes and I’m racing blind as deafening
cracks warn the ceiling caving in. I trip, the torch flies and all is plunged
into rumbling abyss. I pull myself to my feet, search frantically for direction
as ceiling shards shatter all around, a cold sliver pierces through my skull
and all is brilliant searing frigid light.
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