But still we
went down. Then our foot touched the ground.
We rubbed our eyes, for we could not see.
Then our eyes became used to the darkness,
but we could not believe what we saw.
No men known to us could have built
this place, nor the men known to our
brothers who lived before us, and yet it
was built by men. It was a great tunnel.
Its walls were hard and smooth to the
touch; it felt like stone, but it was not stone.
On the ground there were long thin tracks
of iron, but it was not iron; it felt smooth
and cold as glass. We knelt, and we crawled
forward, our hand groping along the iron
line to see where it would lead. But there
was an unbroken night ahead. Only the
iron tracks glowed through it, straight and
white, calling us to follow. But we could
not follow, for we were losing the puddle
of light behind us. So we turned and we
crawled back, our hand on the iron line.
And our heart beat in our fingertips,
without reason. And then we knew.
We knew suddenly that this place was
left from the Unmentionable Times.
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