Blackness. Utter, endless blackness, the only sound that of dripping water. Was this what the Black Well had been like? No wonder Ian hated the dark. Grateful that David had been so adamant about precautions, she drew out one of her spare candles, then took a match from the waterproof packet.
The match struck easily and she lit her candle. It was the most beautiful light imaginable.
After retrieving the dropped candle, she examined her surroundings. The chamber was a glittering fairy palace of crystals, columns, and stone icicles. It was also large, perhaps the size of a ballroom but with a much higher ceiling.
She returned to the mouth of the tunnel and called, "I've found a large chamber, and the tunnel didn't get any smaller along its length. You should be able to get through." Her voice echoed hollowly.
A few minutes later Zafir appeared, followed by Kuram and David. A good thing none of them were fat.
They explored the perimeter of the chamber and were presented with a quandary when two exit tunnels were found. David said, "Laura and I will take the left, you two men take the right. If the tunnel divides, don't split up again. Choose the most promising direction and use a piece of rock to scratch an arrow on the wall pointing back the way you came. Be careful, and don't let yourself get too tired."
The Pathans nodded and the group split up. As Laura entered the new tunnel, something swooped by her, so close that she shrieked and threw a hand over her face.
"Only a bat," David said reassuringly. "More afraid of you than you are of it."
"I sincerely doubt that," she retorted, her heart thumping.
David chuckled and they continued forward. They made a good team. Like Ian, he made her feel safe.
This tunnel was high enough to walk in but narrow, with water trickling along the bottom. It also slanted upward.
As they picked their way over jagged stones, Laura's confidence began to fade as she realized just how unlikely an undertaking this was. The cavern system might go on indefinitely and never connect with the cave Ian had been in, even assuming he was alive. No wonder David, with his experience of what lay beneath the earth's surface, had warned her not to expect miracles.
Her mouth hardened. Remember that you are a Russian.
No surrender.
* * *
Ian's leap into the unknown lasted so long that he was sure that he had misjudged and was falling into the shaft. Then he landed hard on a slippery, irregular stone surface.
He lost his balance and went down, sliding on his side across the rock until he slammed into a wall.
Shaken, he did an inventory. Nothing was broken, though he was getting bruises on his bruises.
He swayed as he got to his feet and realized that the combined effects of exhaustion, cold, and hunger were starting to seriously affect him. But he daren't stop as long as he was capable of moving forward. If he lay down, he might not get up again.
How long had he been trapped under here? Hours? A day? More? Impossible to tell. As in the Black Well, he was losing all sense of time, though his other senses were acute. He could smell the water and the sterility of the stone, feel the strengthening current of air on his face.
He was also becoming adept at sensing how near or far away surfaces were. He wasn't sure how he knew. Perhaps the reflections of sound and his own body heat.
He found the next shaft the easy way, by tapping rather than almost falling in. Again he tossed gravel to determine what was ahead, finding that it seemed to be solid rock rather than a continuation of the tunnel.
On the plus side, the shaft didn't seem as deep as the first, and the tunnel might continue at the lower level. He debated how to proceed. It wouldn't be easy to go down the shaft, and if he broke a leg he was doomed.
Then he remembered his turban, which was six yards long and made of sturdy cotton. He made a rope by ripping the turban lengthwise into two pieces and tying the ends together. After looping it around a narrow column of stone that rose from the floor, he climbed into the shaft.
At the bottom of his rope, he lowered himself until he was hanging with his arms straight over his head. At the very limit, his toes touched solid ground, probably the floor of a new tunnel. Releasing one end of the doubled cloth, he pulled the entire length down and wrapped it around his body in case he would need it again.
And so it continued, through large spaces and small, moving through the thick blackness by touch and faint echoes of sound. Once he worked his way down a chimney with his back pressed against one wall and his feet and hands against the other, praying that it wouldn't get too wide for him to support himself.
Sometimes he wondered if he was burying himself more deeply, but the air still moved. There must be an opening somewhere ahead.
The water grew deeper until he was wading through a stream, then a small river. Finally, with a roar, the river plunged into a shaft. Alerted by the intensifying current and the sound of falling water, Ian stopped and made a careful survey. The river, which was now almost hip deep, filled the tunnel. The only way forward would be through the water.