Mark squinted into the darkness ahead.
He couldn’t see very well. Worse yet, he couldn’t see where he was putting his feet, either. Several times he heard gasps behind him, but he marched on briskly, knowing that John loathed having any more delays.
And unlike the others, this one was scarcely a passage. Tunnel was more like it. There were neither torches nor sconces on the walls. Just the plain marble ceiling, marble walls, and marble floor. It was as though no one was expected to come down here at all.
Coldness seeped through him. Mark shuddered.
He had been thinking a lot along the way. Yet the more he thought the less certain he felt about everything. He wanted to give up and surrender himself to the dark lord. He wanted to go home.
All of a sudden, Mark felt the lightness of his hand. It took him only a split second before he snapped into action, but even then it was too late. The sack of necklaces was already slipping from this sweaty hand.
It fell to the ground with a loud clink, before Mark could even make a grab for it.