The tunnel branched, a T-junction of darkness and uncertainty. Caelan hesitated for a fraction of a second, his head tilted, listening. Then he turned left, pulling her along without a word.
"They'll be expecting us to head for the south docks," he murmured, his voice a low, confident rumble that seemed to absorb the oppressive silence of the tunnel. "So we're going the long way around. Through the old cisterns. It's a bit damp, but it's scenic."
She highly doubted it was scenic. Cisterns were about as far from what she imagined scenic could possibly be. But she didn't bother to argue.
They walked for what felt like an eternity, the silence punctuated only by the distant, echoing drip of water and the scuttling of unseen things in the darkness. Then, a new sound joined the chorus. A faint, rhythmic chanting, in a language she didn't recognize. The words were harsh, guttural, and they seemed to vibrate in the very air around them, a psychic disturbance that made her teeth ache.
