If I closed my eyes hard enough, I could still taste the sugar glaze from breakfast, hear Aeris giggling as we tried to stack spoons higher than the jam jar. If I squeezed my sister's hand, it meant we were still safe, somewhere warm and bright, and Elyzara was coming down the stairs to tease us for plotting our "Parliament of Toast."
But I couldn't close my eyes, because they stung too much from crying, and I couldn't let go of Aeris's hand, because if I did, I might never find it again in the dark.
We were in a place the world had forgotten colder and older than the castle above, full of bad smells and worse voices. The walls dripped, and every sound echoed for miles, like the tunnels themselves wanted to remember our fear. Shadows pressed everywhere. I was five, but I felt so much smaller.
