feet.”
“Is that what I’ve done?” he asked. “Have I swept you off your feet?”
I smiled again. “It is getting harder and harder not to get carried away with your enthusiasm.”
“Then let it happen!” said Henry. “Don’t try to fight it, just let yourself live the adventure.”
I punched him playfully in the shoulder and we kept walking, for a time, in exultant silence. Somehow the prospect of spending another long evening together didn’t seem so bad now. As we had done the night before, we crawled along on a slight incline for some time until the road leveled out, the roof opened up, and we found ourselves walking down a long, narrow tunnel. Perhaps we had already traversed this path so recently, time seemed to fly faster than it had done on the previous night. By the end of the first hour we could hear the first murmurs of the underground river, safely hidden away behind thick layers of rock, and within another hour we were walking briskly alongside it, as though reunited with an old friend.
As we walked along I contemplated my sudden softening towards Henry. He had slept in my room the night before, though we hadn’t slept together because we were too exhausted. Instead he had curled up at the foot of my bed, at my feet. He was asleep within 10 minutes, and I fell asleep not long after that. Together we made an oddly cozy picture of domestic comfort. For the first time I found myself contemplating the possibilities of marriage. They say when you’re young you want someone you can kiss in the rain; as you get older, you just want someone with whom you can do your taxes. In Henry, I may have found both.
“We’re almost there,” said Henry, though that depended on your definition of “almost.” Within 20 minutes we had made our way back to the four-way intersection where the tunnel broke up. The waters of the river roared and surged around us.
“If the island legends are at all accurate,” he said, “we won’t have to wait long before we can get moving again.”
“It amazes me that anything actually lives this far below ground,” I said.
“We’re really not that far below ground,” he replied. “You’d be surprised: scientists have found microscopic creatures thousands of feet below the earth’s surface, amid hellish heat and ungodly pressure.”
I set down my pack against the wall of the tunnel and knelt down in the powdery dust. Taking out my water bottle, I took a long drink. We waited.
“Almost,” said Henry, his eyes aglow with a fierce light.
There was no noise to herald their coming, but all at once the furthest tunnel to the right lit up like a home automation system. Both walls and the roof glowed pink. It was like stepping underneath an acid-tinged, iridescent wedding arch. For the first time in our journey I regretted having not brought my camera.
“I think we’ve found our way,” he said with a nudge, hoisting up his pack. With a heavy sigh I gathered mine and we set off towards the glowing, worm-lined tunnel.
Chapter 11—Henry
All around the tunnel, for hundreds of yards in front of us and in every direction, the glow-worms were glowing.
“Look at this!” I said to Liv, motioning her to the wall where I stood, mouth wide. “You can’t even tell them apart. It’s just one solid mass of worm.”
“How many are there?”
“Is that what I’ve done?” he asked. “Have I swept you off your feet?”
I smiled again. “It is getting harder and harder not to get carried away with your enthusiasm.”
“Then let it happen!” said Henry. “Don’t try to fight it, just let yourself live the adventure.”
I punched him playfully in the shoulder and we kept walking, for a time, in exultant silence. Somehow the prospect of spending another long evening together didn’t seem so bad now. As we had done the night before, we crawled along on a slight incline for some time until the road leveled out, the roof opened up, and we found ourselves walking down a long, narrow tunnel. Perhaps we had already traversed this path so recently, time seemed to fly faster than it had done on the previous night. By the end of the first hour we could hear the first murmurs of the underground river, safely hidden away behind thick layers of rock, and within another hour we were walking briskly alongside it, as though reunited with an old friend.
As we walked along I contemplated my sudden softening towards Henry. He had slept in my room the night before, though we hadn’t slept together because we were too exhausted. Instead he had curled up at the foot of my bed, at my feet. He was asleep within 10 minutes, and I fell asleep not long after that. Together we made an oddly cozy picture of domestic comfort. For the first time I found myself contemplating the possibilities of marriage. They say when you’re young you want someone you can kiss in the rain; as you get older, you just want someone with whom you can do your taxes. In Henry, I may have found both.
“We’re almost there,” said Henry, though that depended on your definition of “almost.” Within 20 minutes we had made our way back to the four-way intersection where the tunnel broke up. The waters of the river roared and surged around us.
“If the island legends are at all accurate,” he said, “we won’t have to wait long before we can get moving again.”
“It amazes me that anything actually lives this far below ground,” I said.
“We’re really not that far below ground,” he replied. “You’d be surprised: scientists have found microscopic creatures thousands of feet below the earth’s surface, amid hellish heat and ungodly pressure.”
I set down my pack against the wall of the tunnel and knelt down in the powdery dust. Taking out my water bottle, I took a long drink. We waited.
“Almost,” said Henry, his eyes aglow with a fierce light.
There was no noise to herald their coming, but all at once the furthest tunnel to the right lit up like a home automation system. Both walls and the roof glowed pink. It was like stepping underneath an acid-tinged, iridescent wedding arch. For the first time in our journey I regretted having not brought my camera.
“I think we’ve found our way,” he said with a nudge, hoisting up his pack. With a heavy sigh I gathered mine and we set off towards the glowing, worm-lined tunnel.
Chapter 11—Henry
All around the tunnel, for hundreds of yards in front of us and in every direction, the glow-worms were glowing.
“Look at this!” I said to Liv, motioning her to the wall where I stood, mouth wide. “You can’t even tell them apart. It’s just one solid mass of worm.”
“How many are there?”
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