“They were taken by some sort of predator.” Athos gently extricates himself from Porthos’ arms, however warm and inviting, in order to descend the stair and help Aramis. The sight below is still too terrible, too wretched. “They should know what sort.” Even if they do not believe us, Athos thinks. Better the truth than the lies the police and hospitals will feed them.

Pausing to give Aramis’ shoulder a squeeze of thanks for all he has done, Athos returns to the narrow passageway, and the opening to blessed fresh air. “Bring them this way,” he says. “I will lift them out."