Chapter Sixteen: Ever Downward We Sink

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She was afraid.

He could feel it. Hermione was scared somewhere on the floors above his head, and Loki could feel it. He hated this.

He hated that he could sense her fear this way. Strangely enough, he also hated the simple fact that she felt afraid. How terribly inconvenient that he could do nothing to assuage her fear, and hated that he could do nothing. He'd known from the moment he'd laid eyes upon her that she was a creature not unaccustomed to fear, but capable of keeping it tightly reined—so tightly, in fact, that she often didn't notice she was feeling it, covering it over with safer emotions, like anger and irritation.

Now, however, was not one of those times.

Bucky, too, he could sense. Though, their Midgardian brute was not afraid—instead, a quiet, steady anger simmered in him. A response to her fear, that anger was focused toward whatever mysterious element caused her pulse to race for such an unpleasant reason.

Were he not currently battling a nagging impression of his own that he should retrieve them both and leave this planet far behind them, he might consider this quite an interesting circumstance. In all the old tales he'd heard, he never would've dreamed a koblet tre was anything more than that—a story—let alone that it was such a powerful connection.

For pity's sake, it was enough to make him miss the simplicity of being a creature fueled by selfishness. Well, selfishness with valid reasoning, but no one ever cared to hear his side of the story. He'd wanted the throne of Asgard not simply because he wanted it, but because he did not believe Thor to have the temperament suited to be king and would lead them all to war.

Perhaps he'd gone a little overboard when he tried to take over earth in retaliation to having his plan foiled, but they were the ones who'd filled his head with notions of sitting upon the throne of a kingdom which could never be his for centuries on end. He had not spun those lies to himself.

He sighed and pushed away his agitation. This was no time to dwell on the past. He could pick at old wounds any other day, now he needed to focus.

Shaking his head at himself, Loki glanced back at the chamber doors. He sorely hoped those fools would not be stupid enough to breach them.

His shoulders slumped and he rolled his eyes as he shook his head a second time. His brother was in the lead, so stupidity might well be inevitable.

* * * * *

Bucky's nostrils flared as he turned his head, scanning the intersecting corridors. He wanted to hit something . . . hard. The way Hermione fidgeted beneath the protective curve of his arm around her shoulders only made it worse.

Her fear put him on edge . . . . And, if he didn't know any better, he could swear he felt a nagging impression in the back of his mind of irritation at his anger, her fear, and the entire, idiotic situation they were in. He had a pretty good idea he was picking that up from Loki.

God, he hoped that their keeping his presence to themselves didn't come back to bite them in the ass later. But, his luck, it probably would.

Hermione shifted a bit closer under the weight of Bucky's arm—really, any closer and she'd be inside his clothes. She nearly tripped over her own two feet at the wildly ill-timed mental images that intended-as-facetious observation brought to mind.

* * * * *

Loki blinked rapidly at the brush of an inappropriate thought against his mind. He could not perceive what said thought actually was, only able to determine that whatever she'd imagined had caused her skin to warm and a sweet tingling sensation to zing through her.

Scowling, he cast his gaze toward the ceiling. "Oh, do not dare."

This was hardly the place for her to get distracted like this . . . . Especially when he did not have the luxury to be with them in one fashion or another.

* * * * *

Natasha was the first to respond to Hermione's near-stumble, grasping the witch's elbow to steady her. "You okay?"

At the question, the entire group stopped and turned toward her.

Wide-eyed at the unexpected scrutiny, she met each of their gazes, in turn, and then nodded.

Only when they all began moving again as a unit, did she notice that Bucky's attention still lingered on her face. Her still-blushing face.

Biting her lip, she tried to feign and innocent expression. "What?" she asked in a barely audible whisper.

He lifted his brows in an eloquent expression in answer.

Struck by the sudden awareness that he probably got what sort of thing had flashed through her mind based on her emotions, even if he couldn't see what said thing was, she frowned. "I swear, we're going to get the hang of this at some point."

Holding in a snicker, he only gave a subtle nod. The distraction had eased her fear and lessened his agitation, so he supposed it had been a positive thing, after all.

Yet, as they fell quiet, there was no further reprieve from the narrow, dust-wreathed corridors. No buffer to dull the unsettling echoes of their footfalls against the stonework.

After another mind-numbing patch of quiet, Clint piped up, disliking the slow turning sensation in the pit of his stomach. "Is it just me, or are we moving lower?"

Thor glanced back, clear over the top of Hermione's head, to meet Steve's gaze. After some brief, silent communication, they both nodded.

Natasha frowned. "Anyone else not like that this place was built so that you can't tell you're going down?"

A ripple of panic swirled through Hermione as she forced a nod, trying to focus on the sensation of her legs moving beneath her, carrying her forward as they talked. "I think it . . . it actually might make sense, as I've had the feeling that we've been going in circles. That would be entirely possible if we're looping under where we've already walked."

"Really?" Bucky asked with a shake of his head. "So, I'm the only one concerned that we haven't come across anything, yet? No breaks in the corridor, no marks, or writing, or anything?"

"If this is anything like megaliths on earth, then whatever this was used for is in the heart of the building." The redhead shrugged. "Which would be where, I can only assume, we're headed."

A faint trembling shook through the structure and they all halted.

Clint looked around the confined space. "What the shit?"

"Earthquake?" Hermione offered in a hopeful tone. "Small earthquake?"

Natasha reached into a pouch on her belt to retrieve a hand-held scanning device. "Doubtful," she said, her brow furrowing. "The scans we ran before we got here showed very little seismic activity in the planet's—"

A sudden groaning sound cut her off.

Without lifting her head, Natasha looked about the group. She could read it in their faces that instinct told them all to move.

The floor disappeared from beneath their feet sooner than any of them could react.

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