The floor was pitched at an angle, sending the three of them deep below the surface. Kane wondered how deep they could go, knowing that the city resided atop a floating disc. The tunnel itself smelled of damp and metal polish, and there were pipes running along its ceiling and walls, with couplers and valves located at roughly every fifth step. The tunnel was narrow, too, just four feet wide and barely seven feet in height. It seemed somehow more cramped after the endless wide expanses of corridors and rooms that defined the palace and the bathing house. “You come down here often?” Kane quipped. “Not for a few years,” King Jack answered without turning to address at Kane. “Probably not since this place was built, now that I think about it.” “And when was that?” Grant asked. He was reloading his Sin Eater as the group jogged down the tunnel, slipping the dead clip into a pocket of his duster.
