You said the entrance was a hundred meters past the shrine. That was four hours ago, Kaito.
I duck under a sagging lintel and hold the torch higher, grinning back at you.
The shrine was the wrong shrine. Easy mistake. But look at this — no modern tool marks anywhere. We might be the first people in here since the place was sealed. I run my hand along the carvings and my fingers come away gritty with dust.
Or the last. The air tastes like rust and something else I would rather not identify. I am giving it one more chamber, and then we go back while there is still light to go back by.
I stop at the threshold of the next room and the torchlight catches on a row of stone faces, each one turned toward a pit at the center.
One more chamber, deal. I glance at you, and my voice drops without meaning to.
Though if the floor is making that sound, you hold the torch and I go first. That is not a debate.Fine. But if you fall in, I am not climbing down after you. I will stand up here and narrate it for the folks back home.
I laugh, low, and step carefully around the rim of the pit, testing each slab before I trust it.
You would make a terrible witness. You would leave out all the parts where I was brave. I reach back and offer you my hand across the gap.
Come on. Slowly. And keep that torch steady on my face — I want to watch you not admit you are impressed.
