The stairwell was damp and cold. Blackness folded about them like a shroud. They moved in silence, and after five thousand steps, Asir stopped counting.
Somewhere in the depths, Big Joe slept his restless sleep. Asir wondered grimly how long it would take the guards to tear down the metal door. Somehow they had to get past Big Joe before the guards came thundering after them. There was a way to get around the monster: of that he was certain. A series of twenty-four numbers was involved, and he had memorized them with a stolen bit of ritual. How to use them was a different matter. He imagined vaguely that one must call them out in a loud voice before the inner entrance.
The girl walked beside him now, and he could feel her shivering. His eyes were quick and nervous as he scanned each pool of darkness, each nook and cranny along the stairway wall. The well was silent except for the mutter of their footsteps, and the gloom was full of musty odors. The candle afforded little light.
"I told you the truth about Tokra," she blurted suddenly.
Asir glowered straight ahead and said nothing, embarrassed by his previous jealousy. They moved on in silence.
Suddenly she stopped. "Look," she hissed, pointing down ahead.
He shielded the candle with his hand and peered downward toward a small square of dim light. "The bottom of the stairs," he muttered.
The light seemed faint and diffuse, with a slight greenish cast. Asir blew out the candle, and the girl quickly protested.
"How will we see to climb again?"
He laughed humorlessly. "What makes you think we will?"