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Paths in Darkness (Audiobook) by Kevin Tumlinson | egfranunconfe.tk
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The Dark Tower Series
Product Information. Copy Link Tweet This. Ari Marmell , C. Scanned image Scanned image These products were created by scanning an original printed edition. Most older books are in scanned image format because original digital layout files never existed or were no longer available from the publisher. The result of this OCR process is placed invisibly behind the picture of each scanned page, to allow for text searching.
However, any text in a given book set on a graphical background or in handwritten fonts would most likely not be picked up by the OCR software, and is therefore not searchable. The man was correct: to know there were other spies was one thing, to know their identities was something else entirely.
Still, I wish —. He stayed close to the wall, feeling with his hands. He pulled himself up on the stone ledge and stooped to enter the service tunnel. The passage forked almost immediately. To the left a stone staircase led upward. Athan hunched lower and began to climb the ancient stairs. The walls and ceiling, the stale air, the darkness, crowded him. He counted the steps off in his head, concentrating on the numbers, disliking the cramped space, the tightness and the narrowness.
The weight of the Citadel pressed down on him. Fifty steps, and then a hundred. One hundred and fifty. Two hundred.
The Dark Tower Series
Each step took him closer to the courtesans, to candlelight and wine and sex. His pace slowed—part weariness, part reluctance. Athan stifled a laugh in his throat. I used to want to visit the salon, and now…. On the contrary, there was keen competition for positions in the salon; the lifestyle was luxurious, decadent even. Instead, his dreams were of private intimacy and his fantasies were about one woman: Three. Most often he imagined that they met in darkness and he never saw her face. He would undress her slowly and her body would be slim and soft and clean, and not smell of other men. And when he kissed her, her mouth was sweet and innocent, and when they made love, she was never bored.
Space opened out ahead of him. The ceiling lifted and the walls pulled back.
It was dark still, but he could stand to his full height, could stretch out his arms if he wanted to. Athan stifled a grunt of relief. The cellars on these lower levels were disused, but caution was an ingrained habit. His life depended on the care he took to avoid detection. And not only his life. He stretched his spine and wished he could forgo the salon tonight. Saliel inhaled the cold air of the catacombs. There was no scent of death or decay. The people who lay entombed here were centuries dead, their bones dry and brittle. Her path took her along twisting passageways and through wide galleries.
Here lay the priests and priestesses of a long-dead empire, the warriors and the poets, the nobles and the courtiers.
Paths in Darkness
Hair rose at the nape of her neck at the thought of bony fingers reaching out to pluck her cloak. She fought the urge to hurry, to get out of the darkness and silence as quickly as possible. It was always worse—the return journey—when her skin crawled with unease and it took a conscious effort to keep her pace slow. It was foolish to be afraid of crumbling skeletons when there were more important things to fear: discovery and torture and death.
Yet she had nightmares about this place. The dead woke in her dreams, angry that she disturbed their rest. But they always did. Saliel shivered and shook herself mentally.