The lift shaft climbed without mercy.
Old service rails ran along the walls, slick with dust and dungeon condensation. The emergency chain jerked upward in uneven pulses, dragging us like fish caught on a hook. Every few breaths, the entire shaft shuddered as if something below had taken offense at vertical progress.
Fair.
I often took offense at progress too.
Aiden hung below me with one hand on the chain and the other braced against the wall. His coat was torn at the shoulder. Blood darkened his collar. Heroic light still clung to his sword in stubborn fragments, annoying the shadows whenever they crept too close.
Above us, Liora had wedged herself across two rails and was hauling Niko upward by his belt while insulting him into consciousness.
"If you faint," she snapped, "I will tell everyone you were beaten by architecture."
"I hate this school," Niko gasped.
"Good. Hatred builds character."
