"Father, someone came up from above just now."
"When?" Green rotated his neck. After resting for so long with his head on the coffin lid, the back of his neck felt a little sore, but it was bearable.
The friar lit the lantern again so Green could see the map. In its dim yellow glow, another passage had been marked. "Just now. It's raining again up above."
"Is it raining hard?"
"Not really. It's about the same as before, so I didn't wake you."
He listened to the water on the other side of the crack in the rock. The water flowing down from the surface converged here into a single stream. Perhaps his hearing was especially sharp just after waking, but the current seemed a little stronger than before, washing over the silt with a dry, pulsing rhythm like a rotting artery.
"Next time, wake me right away, no matter what. Don't wait," Green ordered. "How many times has it rained lately?"
"About... three or four times?" The friar paused to think before answering.
Summer brought plenty of brief showers like these. They came and went quickly, barely soaking through the soil, and even less water made it underground. The water level in the passages had only risen a little.
The effect on their search wasn't as great as one might expect. As long as the water didn't reach their ankles, it wouldn't impede their progress.
Only when the water collected in the Great Hall could they clearly feel the increase. Water poured through cracks in the stone steps, spread over the dark green moss, and covered everything with the distorted reflections on its surface.
The Hexagonal Deep Well still swallowed up the terrifying volume of water without ever being sated. Below it seemed to lie an endless, dreadful