Stood in the weak, morning light, Ember stared down the length of the tunnel ahead. It felt like the entrance to another world, the eerie light in the distance some hundred feet beyond looking as though it could lead to another plain.
It was nestled in an embankment, the barren trees the latter housed fighting for survival amidst the dry shrubbery and pollution-filled skies, fallen branches a testament to their struggle.
‘How far in is it?’ she asked, focusing her attention back on the way ahead.
‘About a hundred feet in.’
The view was obscured from beyond half of that distance. Unease chilled the base of her spine as she felt as though eyes were staring back at her from behind their mask of darkness.
‘It’s pretty dark in there, Nate.’
‘I can see far enough to tell you the coast is clear if that makes it easier?’
She met his gaze fleetingly. ‘Maybe a little.’
‘You wanted to do this, Ember.’
‘I know. And I will.’
She glanced anxiously over her shoulder before looking back down the tunnel again. She would do it. For the sake of the lack of an alternative, she would go in there.
‘Right,’ she muttered, albeit with fervency. She switched on the torch Nate had given her. ‘Let’s get in there and take a look.’
She could feel the density of the atmosphere change, the acoustics of the tunnel making it feel as though it was instantly closing in on her. She walked closer to Nate than she intended, her eyes wide and wary beyond where the torchlight reached. Dankness and the underlying scent of mildew lingered in the air, the silence deafening beyond their footsteps.
‘There,’ Nate said, indicating to her left.
Ember shone the torch to where he was pointing, igniting a dark recess behind bars set within the stone tunnel wall.
Ember followed him over. ‘That’s it?’
‘Based on Stirling’s description,’ he confirmed as he reached for one of the bars. He tugged on it but the barrier remained motionless. As if to further prove his point, he lifted his foot and booted it once and then twice, but it didn’t so much as budge. He took a step back, his hands resting low on his hips. ‘And as I said, it’s impenetrable.’
Ember stepped up to it. She reached for one of the bars to give it a tug of her own.
And her hand went straight through it.
She jolted backwards, her startled gaze meeting Nate’s.
His frown switched from her to the bars.
She reached for a different one, but her hand went straight through it again as if it wasn’t there.
Nate grabbed hold of her upper arm a split-second later, holding her back. He reached for the same two bars to check for himself but was instantly met with the concrete evidence that it was one rule for him and another for her.
‘Clever,’ she remarked, meeting his gaze again. ‘A spell maybe?’
‘Can you see what’s beyond it?’
She looked back into the darkness. She shook her head as she reverted her attention to him. ‘No. But it seems we’ve confirmed we’re definitely in the right place though.’ She glanced down at where he still held a tight grip on her arm. ‘And you can let me go now. I’m not planning on diving in there if that’s what you’re thinking.’
But he didn’t relinquish his hold as he stepped close to the bars again. He stuck his hand through the gaps, the correct laws of physics at least seeming to apply to that. He withdrew his hand and, with a pensive frown, he scanned the gateway again.
‘Nate,’ she said, trying to regain his attention. ‘Maybe if you hold on to me, that’ll work. Maybe I can take you through with me.’
He gave her a nod.
As he kept hold of her arm, avoiding skin-on-skin contact, she stepped forward, clearing the bars as if she’d done nothing more than step through a waterfall, a rush sweeping over her. But she jolted back before she had time to immerse herself in it, her gaze dropping to where Nate remained trapped on the other side.
She took a step back into the tunnel beside him. ‘So what now? I need to take a look in there, Nate.’
‘I don’t like this. Not without knowing what’s beyond.’
‘Yeah, well, neither do I. But we can’t just stand here.’ She turned to face him fully. ‘If you’re worried I’m going to do a runner, I’m not. We’re in this together.’
He held his gaze on hers for what felt like a lifetime.
‘You need to trust me,’ she said. ‘We’re here now. We might not get another chance. Let’s at least get something out of it or what was the point? The answer could be a matter of feet away.’
He glanced back ahead into the darkness before meeting her gaze again. ‘If you get even the slightest uneasy feeling, you get your arse back here. Understood?’
‘Anyone would think you were worried about me.’
He didn’t respond. He didn’t need to.
With a steadying breath, she stepped forward again. After the initial rush, the silence beyond the gate was even more overwhelming than it had been in the tunnel.
Ember glanced over her shoulder to where Nate gripped one of the bars, his other hand resting above his head against them. The unease etched on his face did nothing to appease her anxiety.
She shone her torch into the darkness ahead, the walls a collaboration of brick and rock. What looked like steps veered down to the left. There was nothing else.
‘Shit,’ she muttered under her breath, despite not meaning for it to come out loud.
‘Hey,’ Nate said, catching her arm again through the gap in the bars.
She flinched, her breath snagging, her attention snapping over her shoulder. ‘For fuck’s sake. I could really do without the surprises right now, Nate.’
He passed her phone through. ‘The camera on this might be useful.’ He handed her a flick knife as well. ‘This too.’
She raised her eyebrows slightly. ‘You’re trusting me with those?’
‘And trusting you to come back to me.’
She held his gaze; forgot the darkness behind her for a moment. ‘I’ll do my best.’
‘You’d better.’
She broke a smile before turning away again.
‘Ember,’ he said.
She looked back over her shoulder.
Grabbing the edge of her coat, he tugged her towards him. His free hand was locked on the nape of her neck a second later. And, a second after that, she felt his lips against hers.
The kiss was lingering, warm, surprisingly tender.
And it was impossible for her not to reciprocate before remembering; before pulling back.
‘I’m fine,’ he reassured her as she searched his gaze, looking for any sign of pain. ‘Go,’ he said, releasing her before he stepped back from the bars into the shadows.
And she turned to face the darkness alone.