Coraline Tunnel Novels & Stories

I can't disagree with her. "But you're following behind us."I give her a warning look means there is no room for more arguments. "Fine."She huffs with a deep exhale and both I and Chase begin to walk inside the tunnel while she follow behind us. The inner walls of the tunnel radiate in the light.They change their colors from emerald to neon blue.This is definitely not a safe place.I haven't seen anything like this in my whole life.This place is protected by magic means we are heading in the right direction.

"Bentong will want it marked." It was the right argument to make to someone who had survived eight years in these mines by giving administrators what they asked for. Coring looked at the bridge, looked at the tunnel, looked at me once more with an expression I could not read cleanly — not quite suspicion, not quite recognition, something between them — and then turned back to her tablet. "Quick," she said. "And don't fall." ~~~ The tunnel on the other side was exactly what the pendant's heat told me it would be.

He nodded. My stomach lurched. Was she about to disappear into a pillar of flame and leave us stranded on an island in the Inner Hebrides? “Excuse me?” I blurted. Coral turned around and raised her brows. “How are you getting back to the mainland?” “Come with me.” Coral walked us around the cave’s exterior, which turned out to be part of a larger body of land called Staffa.

Years of working alongside him gave me a thorough understanding of exactly how much that pale gaze collected and filed. "The tunnel access in the cell corridor," I said. "How many additional entry points have you identified?" "Three confirmed," he said. "Two probable. The confirmed ones are in the lower foundation level,the probable ones are further east. We're working on sealing them." "With what?" I said. "If the old roads respond to the bloodline's signature and something is mimicking that signature from inside the forest, a physical seal won't hold indefinitely." "I know," he said. "It's a temporary measure while we develop something more

“The old retaining wall path sits below the eastern bluff. You can reach the bluff cut through the sealed wing passage and the lower gardener’s tunnel.” Gabriel blinked. “There’s a gardener’s tunnel?” Colette looked offended. “Do you imagine roses maintain themselves?” He took that on the chin, as he should. Renaud straightened slowly. “That gives line-of-sight above the wall.” “Yes,” Colette said. “Not below it. Which means if she expects only the river path, she’ll miss the first eyes.” Gabriel was already redrawing the approach in his mind. I could see it happen.

He moved around the table and started marking spots with a little charcoal stick, and he tapped the east corridor first. “This is where he expects the crowd distraction,” he pointed. “He has runners mapped to hit the outer guards while everyone is busy checking other perimeters. Then this old storage tunnel here, under the western storage lane, is where he wants his second group to come through, because he thinks you sealed it but never fully reinforced it.” Caleb muttered, “Damn,” under his breath, and Clara finally lifted her head from the back seat and said, “He’s right about the tunnel, and that corridor has a blind angle near the stone arch.”

"We’re going to use the Sub-Directory." I looked at Xander, a surge of adrenaline overwriting my exhaustion. "There’s an ancient, high-bandwidth tunnel—a Tunneling Protocol—that runs directly through the earth's crust from this node to the Greenland core. It hasn't been used in ten thousand years. It’s dangerous, it’s unstable, and it’s probably filled with more 'Daemons' than the one we just killed." Xander’s hand slid from my shoulder to the back of my neck, his thumb tracing my jawline. It was a possessive, grounding touch.

We hit the bottom with a wet, bone-jarring impact. I plunged into a pool of freezing, viscous liquid. It tasted of copper, sulfur, and rot. I thrashed blindly, my feet finding purchase on the slick concrete floor. I stood up, spitting the foul water from my mouth, wiping slime from my burning eyes. We were in a massive, cylindrical tunnel—part of the old colonial storm drain system beneath Njiro. The only light came from the faint, sickly green glow of bio-luminescent moss clinging to the damp walls and the distant, rhythmic strobe of a red emergency light further down the pipe.

The rest of us pushed forward. The tunnel narrowed the closer we got to the dungeon wing. The stone walls were rougher here and unfinished, like whoever built it hadn’t cared how it looked as long as it held. I could feel the vibration of footsteps overhead now, the echo of guards running toward the noise that the decoy team created. Then I heard a low whistle. I raised my hand again and we stopped. Leo leaned towards me. “Luna Raven, there's a corridor up ahead. Two guards passed left to right just now, and they didn't look back.”

She looked past Dorian, her icy gaze sliding to me, then to Kian’s broad hand resting fiercely against the nape of my neck. "Get inside," she snapped, stepping back into the shadow of the corridor. "Before the wind carries your scent to the valley." The tunnel smelled of dried rosemary, hot iron, and old smoke. It opened into a vast, low-ceilinged cavern carved directly out of the living rock. A massive stone hearth burned in the center of the room, casting a warm, orange glow across hundreds of glass jars, leather-bound rolls, and dried roots hanging from iron hooks along the walls.