The force hit them like a wall and didn't stop until the tunnel did.
Ebony came up coughing, grabbed the nearest edge of stone, and pulled herself out of the current with one arm while the other caught Kanary by the back of her jacket.
The water was filthy. She didn't think about it. She thought about it the moment she was out, standing on a wide circular floor with the channel flowing around the perimeter in a slow, stinking ring before disappearing into a pipe so large she could have walked into it standing straight.
The chamber was enormous — where several drainage tunnels converged into one point, with a domed ceiling that trapped the sound and sent it back distorted, and stone walls blackened by decades of residue.
The kind of place that existed in every large city and that nobody, under any circumstances, chose to visit.
