“Oh,” Alora breathed, both delighted and slightly unnerved. She picked a handful of berries, popping some in her mouth. “You’re a gardener too.”
The shadows curled at the cavern’s edges like a pleased cat. Nexus pawed at them with a soft meow.
Alora pressed her hand to the wall, voice barely above a whisper. “Very well then, Karag Dûr. If I am your prisoner, the least you can do is show me the shape of my prison.”
The stone shuddered in answer.
A seam split open, revealing a narrow tunnel, its walls pulsing faintly with moss-light. Nexus mewed and trotted ahead, tail high, and Alora followed.
The first cavern she entered glittered with impossible wealth. Gold spilled in drifts across the floor, crowns and jeweled goblets strewn carelessly across black stone. Gems glittered as though alive, casting bloody light into the dark.
Alora smirked despite herself. “Hmm. A dragon and his horde.”
Typical.
The path shifted, carrying her into a hall lined with blackened mirrors. Their warped glass didn’t display her reflection. One showed her as a child, her mother’s hand in hers. Another crowned her in shadows and jewels. A third showed her lying pale and lifeless, a crimson bloom across her chest. She staggered back and the mirrors vanished.
She shivered and kept moving.
The tunnel trembled, opening into a chamber forested with pillars carved in glowing sigils. She brushed her hand over one, and it thrummed beneath her skin like a heartbeat. Bargains, she realized with a chill.
Contracts he had made with mortals, carved into stone. She dared not linger.
At last Alora stumbled into a cavern dominated by a massive throne of ash and bone. It slouched on its dais like the carcass of a king, its surface brittle and blackened, the stench of burnt stone heavy in the air. Broken chains lay scattered at its base. Whatever giant had once ruled here was long gone, yet the weight of its absence pressed on her chest.
Behind the throne, a vast door stood partly ajar, pulsing with faint red light. Her breath caught as she glimpsed a pillared structure beyond, the ground glowing with crimson blooms. She felt it before she saw it.
An edifice of black stone, pulsing like a heartbeat, promising escape.
The Gate.
Alora quickened her steps, desperate to reach it.
But the mountain groaned and sealed the passage shut, stone folding over itself with a final, crushing sound. She stumbled back, hope crumbling to dust. Nexus hissed beside her, pawing at the stone as though in protest.
The mountain rumbled as if to warn her away.
It had been kind enough to indulge her wanderings, but it was still loyal to Rune.
A soft breeze pulled at her hair coming from another open path, this one lined with torches.
“Where are you leading me now?” she asked softly.
Nexus trotted ahead, dashing inside. From somewhere beyond… Alora heard the distant rush of running water. Curiosity tugged at her heels and Alora followed. The temperature had shifted to warm. The air grew hotter as she descended, mist curling at her ankles. The scent of damp stone and mineral-rich steam filled her lungs.
But Nexus then fell out of view. Alora quickened her steps and entered an open cavern, lit by more torches, bioluminescent worms glinting over steaming pools.
A hot spring.
She turned the final corner and stopped cold. There, half-submerged in the water, was Rune.
His head tilted back against the edge of the pool, long black hair slicked and clinging to his neck and shoulders. Steam clungto his skin like misted silk. Shadows coiled lazily around the edge of the spring, content and unbothered.
Alora froze, eyes wide. Through the steam, she thought she saw the glint of burns on his chest and arms, skin red and blistered like fire had tried to eat him whole. But then the steam shifted… and they were gone. She blinked, not sure if she had truly seen the burns.
Rune rolled his neck as he sat up, his back to her. His pale skin was ridged in muscle. Tattoos swirled around his neck, trailing down his shoulders and arms.
She swallowed hard. He moved toward the center of the pool. The misting cleared enough that she caught a glimpse of scars beneath his shoulder blades, but they were difficult to see. Though her attention was drawn elsewhere.
