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wasn’t talkative, but it could be a
self-defensive thing. The moment this guy was spotted, he probably
had a battle on his hands. He’d have been mobbed by the 2100
Radical Society if they’d seen him. That might explain his
reticence. That, and how amazing his voice resonated all
around.
    They thudded to a stop on the ground. Or
floor. Or cave surface. His lower limbs flexed and then they were
moving again. This time horizontally.
    “Where are... we going?” she asked.
    “Does it matter?”
    A shiver ran him when he said it, and it
transferred through her, ratcheting everything higher. It was
difficult to catch her breath. Her senses. Her thoughts.
    “But... how can you see?”
    He grunted. Turned a corner, or swerved
around an obstacle. Or something that shifted her weight in his
arms.
    “Sorry. I forgot.”
    “Forgot what?”
    Light started permeating the corridor, coming
from some still-to-be-seen source. It got sucked into what looked
like stone, and that was then shadowed by interspersed wooden
beams.
    “Human frailties.”
    They entered an enormous chamber, negatively
cambered to form a dome at the top. Deandra craned her head to view
stalactites that hung like long icicles far above them. And
everywhere was light, as if someone had strung thousands of little
white Christmas lights throughout the ceiling. Or whatever you
called a cave roof. And somewhere deep in this place was a slight
hum noise. Mechanical. Technological. Real.
    “What is this place?” she asked.
    “Gold mine. Abandoned section.”
    “You own a gold mine?”
    He looked down at her and winked, stealing
her voice and her breath, and almost her wits.
    “I just told you. It’s abandoned.”
    Deandra lifted her eyebrows. “Then what’s
that humming noise?”
    “Oh. Refinery. Down the shaft about mile.
Maybe more.”
    “You struck oil. You have your own personal
oil supply.”
    “Might, could be,” he answered.
    “What a perfect place for a survival
stronghold. Wow. I mean, really, Grimm, this is amazing.” She
didn’t hide the awe in her voice. She didn’t care, either.
    He grinned. “Hold tight.”
    The jump he made spanned the cavern, made her
dizzy, and barely missed several stalactites before he landed
lithely on a platform carved into rock. The next moment he’d
pivoted, using his back to shove through double wooden doors that
swung inward. And then they were in the center of the room, and she
was on her own feet. Wobbling. Unsure. And open-mouthed with
amazement.
    She’d landed in a large room, not big enough
to create a feeling of isolation, but enough to know space wasn’t
an economic consideration. Dressers and armoires and settees and
wardrobe cabinet were scattered about along the walls, creating
oases of mystery from candelabra atop them. The candlelight created
shadows everywhere, alive with the movement of flame. Soft light
filled the bed chamber, flickering off the warm glow of polished
wood. Expensive wood, none of that pine stuff. Deandra could tell
the interior designer had used real oak. Tons of it.
    All of it surrounded and seemed to protect a
platform holding a bed. Her jaw slackened farther as she looked it
over, her entire frame running with shivers that wouldn’t stop.
That bed was constructed of more carved and polished oak. Craftsmen
had even carved into the solid wood of the base. She glimpsed
sections of it between lengths of the gauzy gold and red striped
material that floated down from the square canopy top. The color
scheme matched the coverlet, while tassels trimmed the edges,
fashioned of what could be real gold thread. There wasn’t a way to
gauge how big or how soft the mattress was, since it sat above her
line of sight. It was unlike anything she’d ever seen or imagined,
not even in those expensive travel brochures. And it was right
there. In front of her. Real.
    “You said something about my bed?”
    Holy smokes!
    Deandra swiveled at Grimm’s question, her
entire body quaking as