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“We can fight the evil,” Kendra said.
“Alas, this is my lot,” the knight said. “I wait here in the darkness, not quite dead, not quite living, bleak and useless as a monument to a forgotten kingdom, awaiting the call to arms. I stand watch as the centuries turn to millennia, as the same cycles repeat, pretending that when I am called, I can help by adding to the carnage.”
Seth crept deeper underground, flashlight in hand. Pale roots corkscrewed from the glistening muck of the curved ceiling. Some caves had a rich, earthy smell, full of gritty minerals. This was not one of them. Things were rotting down here. Bugs were breeding and slime was spreading. The uneven floor of the tunnel squelched beneath every step.
“He has no imagination,” Doren said. “I get all kinds of freaky thoughts in a dark place.”
“Wow,” Seth said. “You’re pretty brave.”
“It’s not brave to be realistic,” Knox said. “Walking a tightrope is brave. Going to war is brave. This is nothing.”
“You have serious psychological problems.”
“I’m logical to psychos?”
“Probably.”
Seth never tired of seeing monsters; to his delight, most of the individuals who stood in a long line to greet them fit that description.