XIII

Although exertion and a nasty edge of fear made Tsvetka's face burn with heat, the floor of the tunnel remained curiously cool, and ever so slightly damp. Every now and again she felt something soft and suspiciously moss-like beneath the toes of her bare foot.

Samson wasn't far ahead of her. His tail flicked once in a while in the gentlest reminder of his frustration at her slow pace, but otherwise he didn't seem terribly distressed. Once in a while he paused to allowed her to catch up with him, and passed the time by studying the dark shapes which scurried past them in a steady stream with mild curiosity.

On one such occasion, blinded by sweat and soot, Tsvetka tripped and almost fell headlong over her waiting companion. Samson chirped a warning, and she threw out her mobile arm to steady herself against the nearest wall. She found that it was warm, but not burning hot. The surface was smooth, and carved into strange contours reminiscent of nothing more than the patterns left by waves on an undisturbed beach. 

It seemed to Tsvetka that the tunnel would have no end. Through the blur of her exhaustion, she seemed to notice a slight downhill gradient to their path, but could not find the energy to speculate about their eventual destination, if such a destination existed.