"We came to a labyrinth. You and I, at least, seem to be finding a literal one."

The corridor has yet to branch, but it does turn a corner, and up ahead another corner only a little ways on. The air is musty, the pale stone smudged with soot and dotted with mildew.

And, around the next corner, a pile that under the light of their stick-lantern reveals itself to be bones, and a scrap of once colorful linen.