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The door opened immediately onto a tall flight of dark slippery
stairs. Cracked and shattered by age, they were dangerous with
sickly gray moss and only wide enough for one to walk.
"Be careful," he whispered. He waited until Riana was between
him and Flint, then took the first steps carefully. So dark was the
tower that they could make their way up only by slow, cautious
steps. Silent as shadows they crept up and up until Flint was
certain that the stairs must end on the mountain peaks.
And then, after an endless time of searching blindly for step
after step, groping along crumbling stone walls for balance, Flint
heard Tanis whisper back that the stairs ended in a corridor.
Light leaked into a high-ceilinged hallway from an intersection
several hundred feet to the west. In the barely relieved darkness
Flint saw Tanis reach for Riana's hand and help her up the last few
steps.
Drawing a long slow breath, glad to be off the treacherous
stairs, Flint reached behind him to adjust the balance of his axe,
then stepped into the corridor. The dark stone walls wept with
moisture, the floor beneath his feet was slick with green-scummed
puddles.
It was then he realized that a wind was moaning where no
wind should be. And beneath that moaning he heard voices, cold
and gibbering.
"Tanis, I don't like this."
Riana turned, fearful questions in her eyes, her hand slipping
away from Tanis's grip
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