Betty's POV. 

The champion nodded grimly. The High Priestess stepped forward, her face shadowed by the torchlight.

“Follow me,” she murmured. “Quickly.”

We moved through the narrow corridors of stone walls sweating with cold, the air thick with damp and despair. 

Every footstep echoed like a hammer striking my spine.

At the final turn, the champion raised his hand.

“I’ll stand guard,” he whispered. “High Priestess, you too.”

And that left only Claire and me.

My pulse ...