Chapter 18: As good have grown there still a lifeless rib. – IX, 1154
The floor isn’t slightly declining anymore. It’s dropping away steeply and it’s all they can do to keep from just running down the rest of the way.
Ahead, either impossibly far or infuriatingly close, is a doorway of sorts. Rhys would call it a doorway because it feels like a natural end to this tunnel. There’s no real door there, nor is there any way of judging their distance relative to it. It’s not a depth perception problem, he doesn’t think. More like reality down here is warped somehow, or follows different rules to what they’re used to.
On top of this, a darkness even deeper than the one they’re in radiates from that opening. If blackness could shine the way light does, that’d be how Rhys would describe it.
All the while, Lissie’s eyes are glowing faintly white, fogged over, and her head is tilted ever so slightly to the side, like she’s listening for something. No doubt more of the creepy screaming only she can hear.