He heard the sounds of a struggle.
“Look at that. You’re a woman.” Amida laughed. “What a scoundrel that Kamil is. And he makes himself out to be a holy man. I’m sure he’ll trade the Proof for you. You do make a good boy,” he added admiringly.
Kamil put his head around the corner again. He saw Elif kneeling before Amida, who had grasped the back of her neck with one hand. In the other, he held a knife. Kamil reckoned the distance and decided Amida would be able to use the knife before Kamil could reach him. He edged forward and saw Amida let go of Elif and fumble at his trousers. Then, Elif, still on her knees, jabbed something into Amida’s groin.
“You bitch,” he howled and raised his arm to strike her. The knife glinted in his hand.
Kamil leapt into the chamber and grabbed Amida’s arm. They struggled, but Kamil managed to pull back Amida’s thumb so hard he had to release his knife. Elif immediately picked it up. Kamil noticed she brandished it blade-down, like a street fighter. Her face was grim, somehow inhuman, and Kamil half expected her to thrust the knife into Amida’s chest while he held him. Instead, she stepped back into the shadows.
Amida bellowed and twisted in Kamil’s arms. Kamil looked down and saw that the front of Amida’s trousers was stained with blood. He let go of one of the young man’s arms. Amida reached down and plucked out of his crotch a small knife of the kind used for sharpening pencils. Before Kamil could grab his arm again, Amida had thrust the pencil knife into Kamil’s chest. Kamil shouted and let go.
Elif stood frozen against the wall, Amida’s large knife still poised in her hand.
Amida grabbed the lamp and ran into the tunnel, with Kamil following right behind.
There was a crash and the light went out. Kamil heard scuffling, then someone running. There was a loud rattle, which sounded like heavy chains, and a crash of metal against stone.
“Elif, Avi,” Kamil called out into the darkness.
“I’m sorry, bey.” Avi was crying. “I tried to stop him. I didn’t think about the lamp.”
“Come over here, Avi. Follow my voice.”
“I’m here.” It was Elif’s voice, her hand on his arm. “Avi? Come, hold my hand.”
Kamil bent and felt around for the lamp, but couldn’t get it to light. The fumes of spilled oil filled the air.
“We can find our way out,” Kamil said more calmly than he felt. He wondered what the noise had been. Perhaps a trap. His hand found the place over his heart where Amida had stabbed him. There was a hole in the fabric of his jacket, through which he could feel a deep nick in the lead case that had been in his jacket pocket. “Let’s hold on to each other.”
He stepped forward carefully, Avi’s hand tugging at his jacket, Elif to the rear. After a while, Kamil felt a difference in the direction of the air and thought they must be approaching the fork in the tunnel. Abruptly, he walked into a set of iron bars. He ran his hands along them. They felt as thick as a child’s wrist and seemed to reach from floor to ceiling.
“What is it?” Elif whispered.
“The bastard has shut us in. It’s a gate. Avi, can you squeeze through?”
Avi pushed through his leg and arm, but his head and chest wouldn’t fit.
“If we can’t go forward, we go back,” Kamil announced.
“That room had a lot of shadowy corners,” Elif said. “I was looking for escape routes, but it was too dark to see properly.” Kamil admired her calm. He wondered, though, about the glimpse of violence he had seen earlier, a darkness he could only guess at.
They turned and felt their way along the wall until they encountered an opening. The smell of oil was stronger here. They entered the room where Amida had held Elif. She put her hands flat against the wall.
“We can start here and work our way around.”
“There’s a slight breeze. Maybe it’s coming from above ground. Let me see if I can trace it. Stay where you are.” Kamil put his hands out in front of him and took five steps directly into the darkness. He stood for a few moments, turning his face slightly, trying to catch a current of moving air, but he was sweating and could discern nothing. He reached inside his jacket, pulled out the lead case, and stuck it into the waistband of his trousers. Then he took off his jacket and shirt, placed them on the ground by his feet and stood again quietly, eyes closed, this time letting his body listen to the atmosphere. The air felt good against his naked chest. He turned slowly in a circle. Like a dervish, he thought, communing with the divine harmony.
It was barely noticeable, a fraction of a change in temperature against his skin, but the air was slightly cooler, the force of it infinitesimally stronger from one direction. He walked slowly toward the flow of air until it was right above him.
“It’s over here. Come toward my voice.”
“Keep talking,” Elif said from somewhere to his right.
Kamil began to sing an Italian aria he had heard performed several times in a small establishment in Galata. He sang it badly and loudly.
By the time Elif and Avi arrived beside him, they were laughing softly.
Elif’s fingers settled on Kamil’s chest, grazing his nipple. Startled, Kamil stepped back and the hand withdrew.
“I’m so sorry,” Elif said in a thick voice, her breath fluttering on his chest.
“Don’t be.”
He felt her step away from him, but imagined he could still hear her breathing.
“You’re right,” she said, her voice coming from a few steps away. “The air does seem to move more here. Where is it coming from?”
“I’ll look,” Avi offered.
They could hear him scrabbling about, his feet bumping up against stone, scraping noises, then clambering. A falling brick landed with a soft chalky explosion.
“Be careful,” Kamil called out.
Suddenly, there was a shower of bricks. They jumped back and both called out Avi’s name.
“I’m up here. I’m in a chimney, I think.”
Most likely it was an air shaft. “How did you get up there?”
“There’s a pile of bricks on the ground. They must have fallen out of the chimney. I was following the air and it came from up here somewhere, so I climbed up the bricks.”
“Does the chimney have stairs?” Elif asked, still puzzled.
“No, but there are a lot of gaps on one side where the bricks have fallen out. You can put your feet in them and hold on.”
“How wide is it?” Kamil asked, already visualizing their escape. “Can we fit through?”
“Sure, bey. Want me to climb up first and see where it goes?”
“Yes, but be careful.”
They listened as the scuffing and tapping sounds of his climb became fainter, then disappeared altogether. They settled themselves on the floor to wait. Kamil wished he had his shirt and jacket, but didn’t want to leave Elif alone while he searched for them.
“Do you have the Proof of God?” she asked.
“Right here.” He pulled it from his waistband and patted it with his fingers like a dull, flat drum.
“I wonder who built this tunnel. And imagine that iron gate!” she exclaimed. “They must have had a lot of enemies to go to all that trouble.”
After a few minutes, Kamil called Avi’s name, but received no response. “I hope that’s good news.” Kamil was more anxious than he let on.
He searched the darkness for Elif’s hand. He was chilled to the bone. Her hand was cold too and he rubbed it between his.
After a while, they heard scratching noises; Avi was coming back. They jumped to their feet.
“It goes outside.” Avi’s voice announced happily. “There’s a small tunnel that crosses the chimney halfway up. We can crawl through there.”
“Wonderful,” Kamil exclaimed. “Well done.”
Kamil consulted with Elif. “I’m going to lift Elif up, Avi,” he called. “Can you guide her so she has something to hold on to?”
“Sure, bey. Don’t worry, Elif Hanoum. Nothing will happen to you.”
“I feel safe in your hands, Avi.”
Kamil cleared a space to stand in the middle of the pile of bricks. He wrapped his arms around Elif’s legs and lifted her.