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.She was breathing quickly, trying to fill her lungs and failing.It felt as though she was suffocating.“This was a really, really bad idea,” she said.“You can always go back,” said Holliday from behind her, grinning in the near pitch dark.Wanounou led the way with the flashlight, crowbar in his other hand, while Holliday brought up the rear, carrying the geologist’s hammer and the second flashlight.Peggy was sandwiched between them, which made things even more claustrophobic.“Go back? How am I supposed to do that? There’s no way to turn around, and anyway, you’re blocking the way.Besides, if I was up top I’d be worrying about you guys too much.”“So nice to feel wanted,” laughed Wanounou.“How far have we gone?” Peggy asked, her voice urgent.“ A hundred and fifty-one steps,” said Holliday.“I’ve been counting.” He did a quick calculation.“About ten inches between the steps.I’d say about a hundred and twenty-five feet.”“Thirty-eight meters, if it makes you feel any better,” said Wanounou, looking back over his shoulder and grinning.“Shut up, both of you,” she snarled in the dark.“Or I’ll scream, I really will.”“She gets aggressive when she’s scared,” commented Holliday to Wanounou.“I picked up on that,” answered the professor.“Shut.Up!” Peggy barked.“Relax,” soothed Holliday.“It can’t be much farther.”“Why do you say that?” Peggy argued.“For all you know this is the stairway to Hell.It could go on forever.” She was almost panting now, her throat constricted, the dank cobbled walls pressing in, entombing her.In another second she really was going to scream.“I can see the bottom,” called Wanounou.Suddenly he disappeared, and Peggy could hear the damp gravel crunch of his footsteps.A few seconds later she reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped out into a narrow, barrel-vaulted tunnel.It was barely wider than the stairs.The floor was covered in a thick layer of rotted, broken limestone that felt like small, damp bones beneath her feet.She shuddered.In some ways it was worse than the stairway.Holliday stepped out behind her.Wanounou shone the flashlight ahead, illuminating the way.Silently they made their way along the tunnel, the floor gently sloping downward.“We’re going deeper,” commented Holliday.“Thanks for mentioning it,” said Peggy acidly.“I wonder what this place was.Some Middle Ages version of a priest hole?” Holliday asked.“What’s a priest hole?” Peggy asked.“Or should I ask?”“During Elizabethan times Catholic families and churches had priest holes, hiding places and tunnels they could escape to if pursuivants came after them—priest hunters,” explained Wanounou.“Sort of like the Nazis and the Jews.”“You history types have far too much information crammed into your heads,” said Peggy.“Sometimes it’s scary.”The beam of the flashlight suddenly widened as they came into a large chamber hewn out of the bare rock.The ceiling overhead was at least twenty feet high, dripping with frozen limestone “straws,” like delicate icicles.The walls were rough stone.Unlike the tunnel, the floor was set with large, quarried paving stones.There was a litter of what appeared to be broken pieces of old flowerpots that had been swept back against the walls.At the far end of the chamber was an immense doorway, the door constructed of studded iron, heavily encrusted with rust and dripping lime.An iron bar was fitted across it, held in iron brackets.Wanounou bent down and picked up a shard from the floor, examining it under the flashlight beam.“Terra-cotta,” he said.“From the curve I’d say a five-liter container.Wine or olive oil.Even water perhaps, although five liters is a little small; the terra-cotta kept it cool.” He ran the flashlight beam around the room.“There’s nothing else here.”“It’s chilly enough already,” said Peggy, her eyes traveling nervously around the cavernous room.She was right; it was cool, ten or fifteen degrees lower than it had been on the surface.“This doesn’t make any sense,” said Holliday.“What doesn’t?” Wanounou said, picking up another chunk of pottery [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]