The crying got louder the deeper we went. Not loud like screaming. Just this steady, broken sob that made the back of my neck itch. I held my lantern up.
My chest tightened. Every instinct told me this was no ordinary child, no simple echo of the well's stones.
The light hit a small shape sitting on the tunnel floor, back against the wall, knees pulled tight to his chest. A boy. Thin, pale, clothes old-fashioned. No color in him at all.
The silence around him felt heavy, like centuries pressing down, and I realized how alone he must have been.
Aria stopped short. The white cloth she'd been waving dropped from her hand and hit the stone with a soft slap.
The boy lifted his head. His eyes were red, but dry. The crying sound kept going anyway, like it was stuck in the air.
Kalia spoke first, voice low. "Hey, kid. Why're you crying?"
He sniffed hard, wiped his nose on his sleeve even though nothing came away. "I didn't mean to be loud."
