We rounded a corner and found ourselves facing a plaza filled with bodies and rubble. Across it, flames consumed what must have once been the merchant district. The heat hit us like a physical blow.
"Through!" Malzaun ordered.
We ran. My lungs burned, and my boots slipped on blood and broken stone. Beside me, Daemon's shadows expanded, forming a protective barrier that deflected falling debris. Behind us, soldiers caught arrows with their shields as Zephyr took out archers in windows.
We didn’t break stride.
The Devourer's presence thickened as we neared the castle. I felt it pressing against my senses like a drop of oil spreading through water. The Veil here didn’t just thin. It festered. Reality itself warped at the edges, creating pockets where shadows moved independently and architecture bent in ways that defied geometry.
"There." Daemon pointed.
A nondescript building squatted between two collapsed structures, the wine cellar entrance. Daemon had described it during planning. His grandfather had shown it to him before his death. It was a secret passage passed down from king to king. His grandfather hadn’t trusted his own son and had passed the knowledge to Daemon instead.
Malzaun kicked the door open. The wood splintered easily, rotted from within. Darkness yawned beyond.
"Torches," he commanded.
Three soldiers produced light. The flames guttered and smoked in the corrupted air but held.
Daemon stepped to the threshold and paused, his expression distant. I knew that look. He wasn’t just remembering, he was being pulled under by it. A childhood shaped in shadows. Training meant to break and remake. A place in a court that had never truly been his.
"Daemon," I said softly.
His jaw tightened. He placed a hand on my shoulder without taking his eyes off the passage. Then he descended into the dark.
The group followed in tight formation, Malzaun’s squad forming a protective shell around us. The stone steps were slick with moisture and decades of neglect. Somewhere above, the sounds of battle continued, muffled screams, collapsing stone, the roar of fire consuming everything in its path.
Down here, only our footsteps echoed.
Torchlight threw wild shadows across the tunnel walls. Daemon took point while Malzaun coordinated his soldiers on the move. Kael slipped into the darkness, appearing and disappearing as he scouted ahead. Daemon led without hesitation.
"This way."
The corridor narrowed. The temperature dropped. My breath misted in the air despite the inferno raging above. I gripped tighter on the dagger Kaelen had given me as the Devourer’s presence thickened.
The passage branched. Daemon took the right without slowing.
"How far?" Kael asked.
"We’re almost there." Daemon’s voice echoed in the confined space. "We’ll exit through the storage chamber."
"How far from the throne room?" Malzaun asked.
"As long as we don’t run into the castle guard, less than two minutes."
I heard one of the soldiers to my left take a slow, measured breath as the air grew heavier, harder to pull into my lungs.
We descended further. The walls changed, rougher now, carved directly from bedrock. I ran my fingers along the stone and felt it vibrate with something that made my magic recoil.
The Devourer's presence pressed closer with every step. I wondered if it could feel me just as strongly.
We reached a junction where four passages converged. Daemon studied each one, expression sharp and calculating. Then he pointed to the leftmost tunnel.
"That one. We’re here."
"Shields up. Spearmen to the front. We don’t know what to expect. Stay ready," Malzaun whispered.
His soldiers moved immediately, forming a defensive front as Daemon fell back to my side.
