The corpses lay in niches or lined up on the walls, some on top of each other. The wrapper has become moldy or chewed into rags, and there are glimpses of wilted brown flesh or bones.

They walked for a long, long few minutes along the corridor lined with the dead.

Selwyn heard a crunch and saw Thorne, who was holding Farrow's foot, accidentally stepped on a bone. Grabbing Farrow's shoulder, Linton kicked the rest of the thing into the wall. A black furry thing suddenly dodged away and disappeared into a crack. Even if Selwyn had walked on his own strength before, it would have been enough to put his knees overboard.

The corridor continued to stretch, curving behind them, but Linton gasped and said, "That's enough." God, that's enough. Even Thorne, who usually liked to refute Linton's suggestion, agreed.

There was a hewn niche in the wall on which a pile of cloth was placed, and the flatness of the cloth proved that the body inside was nothing more than bones. "Move that one over here," Thorne said.

Two men who had helped drag Selwyn in walked over to make room for Farrow, but the ancient cloth crumbled in their hands, and shattered bones were scattered on the ground.

Thorne signaled that it was okay, they should keep moving, moving fast was the most important thing. He and Linton put Farrow in a dusty alcove.

"And what about him?" Linton asked, shaking his head in Selwyn's direction.

"Let him sit down," Thorne ordered.

Someone pushed Selwyn's legs away from underneath him, leaving him to sit heavily in the sand of the cavern floor.

Thorne took a piece of rope that he had wrapped around his belt and tied Selwyn's ankles loosely. Thorne then took out his dagger.

"What are you doing?" Redan asked.

Selwyn didn't even realize he was there until he heard his voice. Don't stop him, he thought, wanting to warn of Redan's kindness. It would have been easier if Thorne had been willing to hasten Selwyn's death.

But Thorne said, "I'm going to cut the rope on his wrist a little." ”

"Why?" Linton asked.

"I'm not going to let him be tied up like this and not be able to move for days."

"Why not?"

"If you don't know, I can't explain it." Thorne sawed the rope, just enough to weaken it, just enough for Selwyn to struggle to untie it so that he couldn't follow the funeral procession away, just enough to save Thorne's conscience.

Linton said, "yes, well, the first thing he has to do is take off his mouth, and then we'll have to listen to him yell all the way back." ”

"Then we'll have to get out of here quickly," Thorne said. "If the stone is put back in its place, we won't be able to hear him." He immediately returned the way he came, and the men who were carrying torches to light the way.

Redan paused for a moment, put his hand on Selwyn's shoulder, and scrambled after him.

Linton's voice returned, and he grumbled to Thorne, "I'm going to tell Bowden. ”

Selwyn struggled to break free of the remaining ropes. He couldn't escape, he knew it. But he was anxious to get closer to the entrance, where the air was fresher, where there was no feeling of the dead who were eagerly waiting for him to join them.

The light of the torches became smaller and darker, and then disappeared completely. He was pitch black—indistinguishable from having his eyes closed. But there was noise everywhere around him: dripping, rustling, and scraping. Vermin, he told himself, not the angry soul came back to ask, "What have you done to my bones?" ”

He felt like he heard the hollow echo of the rock rolling back at the entrance. Or maybe not. He was in the depths of the cave.

Before Selwyn writhed and pulled, his former friends and neighbors might have descended halfway down the mountain, managing to break Thorne's weakened rope. As Linton warned, the first thing he did was ungaggle. He told himself he would be brave. He knew it wouldn't work—even if the villagers could hear him, they wouldn't—but he couldn't help himself. He yelled for them to come back.

Eventually, long after his voice had died down, he was finally able to untie the knots that were tied to his ankles. He slowly stood up, his hands stretched out in the darkness. He took a cautious step forward. His hand touched a dusty cobweb, and it was best to stay still. The right side seems clear. But somehow, a broken bone was under his feet, and his leg slipped out of his feet. He reached out his hands to stop the fall, landing on one of the corpses.

The cloth and bones crumbled under the pressure of his outstretched hands, kicking up a pungent cloud of dust. Still kneeling on the ground, Selwyn hurriedly stepped back, desperately trying not to breathe. But now something was wrapped around his left ankle. His own rope? Or took the blanket of the corpse? Or the corpses themselves?

Selwyn wiped his ankles, stood up, and patted him on the head. That must have been where the ceiling bent into the wall, which meant he needed to take a step back. But in that direction is another body. To the left, his calf hit a rock that was outcropping. He fell again—on a corpse again. This one stuck under his weight. This is a good sign for Farrod.

Selwyn allowed himself to fall back to the floor. In any case, he will not be able to find the entry. It's best to stay still. Then, if an angry soul comes to accuse him, he can say, "It's not that I'm disturbing your rest to harass those who are still alive." ”