“It knew this was here,” I say, my stomach tightening.
“Yes.”
Of course it did. Of course—the ground shifts right in front of us. Not a tremor. Movement. My breath catches.
“Move—”
Too late. The stone splits open and something erupts out of it. Faster than the last time. Cleaner, more controlled. Its body already aligned with the space, already angled toward us. Toward me.
I do not think. I move. Or try to.
Something slams into my side before I finish turning. The impact knocks me off balance, sending me sideways instead of back.
His hand catches mine.
For half a second, our fingers lock. Grip tightening.
Then—gone.
The force tears us apart. The pull is angled wrong, dragging me down and away as the ground collapses beneath my feet. I hit hard.
Stone. Dust. The air is knocked from my lungs in a sharp, useless burst as I slide down a slope that was not there a second ago.
“Kaelreth—!”
His name rips out.
No answer.
The ceiling fractures. Rock breaks loose, partially sealing the opening behind me, cutting off the light, cutting off the space where he was, where he should still be.
I twist, scrambling for purchase, fingers clawing into loose stone as I force myself upright.
“Kael—!”
Nothing. Only the sound of shifting rock and something else behind me.
My heart thunders loudly. My breath catches as I turn.
It is there.
Close.
Not forcing its way through rock, already in the space. Waiting.
The glow of that single eye fixes on me, steady, unhurried, like this was always the path I would take. Like it knew.
No time. No space to think. I leap to my feet and run.
The tunnel is narrower, more uneven, with the ground sloping and twisting as if something carved through it in a hurry and never came back to smooth the edges.
My shoulder clips the wall and pain explodes. I do not slow. Behind me—it moves.
The sound of it shifts from breaking to pursuit, the scrape of its body against the stone controlled, efficient.
My breath burns, my legs pushing harder than they should be able to. Every step is a gamble as the uneven ground threatens to trip me, slow me, and end this. I risk a glance back too soon.
The eye is closer. The distance is gone in half the time it should have taken.
