Cold air rolled out.
It smelled of dust, old metal, and something faintly mineral, like rain caught in stone. Beneath that was another scent, one Ren did not like at all. It was the odour of sealed places that had held too much history for too long.
The passage beyond was narrow at first, then sloped sharply down into darkness. Embedded strips of weak violet light ran along the floor rather than the walls, illuminating the steps in short, intermittent patches. Each glow came and went as if the corridor itself were breathing.
The apprentice made a small, involuntary sound.
Ren glanced back. "Too late to change your mind."
The boy managed, "I am aware."
"Good. Then keep moving."
