Owen knelt in the middle of the tunnel, and used his hand to wipe away a thin 
layer of dust and sand. In the space he had cleared, he used the charcoal to draw 
a thick, crude arrow, pointing towards the high end of the sloping tunnel. Wiping 
his wrist roughly against his streaming eyes, he pushed himself to his feet 
again, and trudged up the slight incline. 

Was he a coward, for running away like this? Probably. Real men stayed and faced 
their problems. Then again -- Owen's lips twisted in a bitter rictus grin -- he 
wasn't a real man, and any number of people already knew that. 

Besides, even after getting his sight back, there was still remarkably little he 
could do about his problems, or contribute to the group, for that matter. Others 
were better at defense; others had the food-gathering well under control. Maybe 
the best contribution he could make was what he was doing now: trying to remember 
the route he'd taken to the surface so long ago, and marking it for others to 
follow. 

An evil little voice in his heart whispered to him. _You could still turn back. 
You could still make her love you._ Owen shook his shaggy head. _Oh, yes, you 
could. You know you could._ 

"Donnie already loves me. But 'she' is not a she -- or at least, doesn't want to 
be one..." 

_Doesn't want to because she doesn't love you enough._ 

"*No.* ... Donnie is who she is, I can't remake her... *him*..." Owen knelt at 
the top of the incline, and drew another arrow. 

_Except that you *could*... You know how you could manipulate her; play on her 
guilt, on her weak sense of self... *make* her be who you want..._ 

"NO!" Owen shouted. _Dear God,_ he thought, as the echoes died away. _I'm going 
insane. Talking to myself..._ He sighed. _And what good would I be to Donnie like 
that? ... Maybe I'm just stir crazy. Maybe seeing the sun and the sky for the 
first time in a year will put me right. -- I can only hope it does before Donnie 
and Bella and Gadget and the rest follow these arrows to the surface._ 

He soon started smelling the tang of crisper air, and smiled slightly. That made 
things easier... he followed the scent, and the growing brightness, and soon he 
emerged into a sunny meadow he hadn't seen for too long. He breathed deep, the 
thin mountain air biting at his sinuses, and dropped to the ground, lying back in 
the thickest patch of the soft grasses he could find. He sighed, looking up at a 
blue-green sky and birds with shimmering feathers flying overhead. 

Just a little time to recuperate... to regain his balance... Owen dozed off, 
listening to the soft 'squee, squee' calls of the birds. 

Meanwhile, in the tunnels, two rock walls on either side of a passage rippled, as 
if coming to attention at some silent signal. Slowly, they bulged outwards 
towards each other, until they met in the middle, and began fusing, strata 
joining strata. They made barely a rustling noise, and when they were finished, a 
charcoal arrow pointed straight to a rock wall.