Meanwhile, on another side, Eleanor trudged through the winding tunnels, her back hunched under the combined weight of Lyra and Jack.
The oppressive darkness was punctuated only by the faint glimmer of bioluminescent fungi scattered along the walls.
Her face was washed with tears, and dust and particles clung to her, giving her a grim, grayish hue. She looked like a miner who had been trapped in the depths for days.
Mary… I'm sorry. I'm sorry for always being the problem. I'm sorry for being weak. I wish… I wish I could have saved you, my friend. God. Why did I say anything about the gems? Just why? I'm so damned stupid. I deserve to die here, she thought, anguish gnawing at her. But… She saved us. She sacrificed herself for us. At least… at least these two will live.
