The clinking of chain and gear was the only warning I got before we were falling; it seemed like it was going on forever, and I could see his eyes in the dark, wet and glittering as we fell, and I felt something. I wanted to yell more, but the rush of air stole the breath from my lungs, and I could only look. He might have been mouthing words, but I couldn't think. Couldn't breathe.
When we hit the cold stone of Barheim Passage, I was jerked away from the cage, skittering several yards away, dazed. The next few moments were a blur of memory, of Reks's cold skin, of the unbearable dark, of everything that went wrong since he'd been gone--
And I breathed.