Luna's Shadow
She didn't cry out; she didn't have the breath for it.
Beside her, Brenda was being led with a lighter touch, though she kept up the act, stumbling and gasping as if her strength had vanished.
They were marched toward a heavy iron door. As it swung open, the scent hit Rebecca — the sharp, metallic tang of silver and the underlying rot of damp earth.
They were led down a narrow staircase, the walls closing in until the air felt recycled and thin. At the bottom, a single hallway stretched out, lit by flickering bulbs that hummed with a low, irritating frequency.
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