Descent into Darkness

7393 words

The tunnel air clawed at Miriam’s throat, thick with the dust of crumbling stone and the sour tang of her own sweat. Her fingers scraped against the jagged wall, guiding her through the dark as the faint glow of Salome’s oil wick flickered ahead. The girl’s small frame darted forward, too fast, her breath a sharp rasp echoing off the low ceiling. Miriam’s sandal caught on a loose rock, and she stumbled, the weight of the bundled scroll strapped tight against her chest pulling her forward. Her palm slammed into the wall to catch herself, grit biting into her skin. “Slow down!” she hissed, her voice a blade cutting through the stifling quiet. “You’ll get us both—” A low rumble shuddered through the earth, stopping her words cold. Dust rained from above, peppering her hair, stinging her eyes. Her heart lurched into her ribs. Another Roman ram against the city walls, or worse—collapsing stone somewhere behind them. The tunnels beneath Jerusalem were a maze of ancient hollows, older than the Temple itself, and just as likely to betray them. She squinted ahead, catching the pale outline of Salome’s tunic as the girl froze, her tiny lamp trembling in her hand. “Auntie,” Salome whispered, her voice small but sharp, like a pebble skittering across stone. “Did you hear—” “I heard.” Miriam...