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Nothing.

Gritting his teeth so hard he could hear enamel grinding, Rymedur cursed.

Rymedur’s stuttering breath came to a halt when he heard steps thudding in the distance. Someone was coming. ‘Shi—’ His voice drifted into silence as the sound immediately ceased.

The space before him was empty. How odd. Rymedur was sure he’d heard footsteps. They had been so close; he should have seen whoever approached… There was only one way in and out of the tunnel. They can’t have vanished.

Swivelling, Rymedur squinted into the distance. As he drew closer, another rumble shook the mountain, jostling his steps, sending him stumbling.

Still unable to reach his shadows, Rymedur balled his hands into fists until nails bit skin. He had no weapon—nothing but his chain. Hand-to-hand combat would have to do, and he could not fail. He would not fail.

Black dots danced across his eyes, and his vision distorted, making the tunnels sway and warp, yet Rymedur pushed forward with that single thought—he would not fail. Areanel was out there somewhere.

Something burning, like an untamed bonfire, combined with the earthy scent of the cave, filled his senses, coating his bare skin with a fevered warmth that made him itch.

He would get out.

He would get out.

It became a chant. If he said it enough, perhaps it would come true.

He would get out.

The continuous roar rumbling through the labyrinth came to an abrupt stop. Slowing his steps, Rymedur approached the last visible stretch of tunnel, illuminated only by the blue-green glow on the cavern walls, though it now seemed to burn brighter.

There was an opening, and a whispering wind floated from it, a sound ahead. Was this where the footsteps had disappeared?

Rymedur used the wall to guide him, palm moving over the bumps and ridges of the cave walls.

Drag. Thunk. Step. Drag. Thunk. Step.

The sounds echoed through and around him, sending a jolt of sharp pain through the back of his skull. His head still ached from where he had been hit, and that, along with the jabbing sensation at his injured side, had him holding his breath. He would have to deal with his injuries later. Right now, all that mattered was getting out.

He would see Areanel again. Would feel the loving warmth of his family.

Rymedur had too much to lose to give up.

Blinking the black dots swimming in his vision away, he drew deep breaths through his nose. Rounding the final corner, he stopped dead in his tracks, stumbling from the claustrophobic tunnel and into a large chamber.

Squinting, Rymedur blinked until his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. Aside of the dim glow from the bioluminescent spots along the last few steps up the tunnel, he had been drowning in darkness for what felt like hours as he had made his ascent, and did not know how long it had been—whether it was even day or night. But this light—bright and almost pulsing—burned his eyes and blurred his vision.

Flowing curtains of dark rock and hanging stalactites decorated the vast space, and a high ceiling curved above. The wet, wide floor was filled with a variation of boulders and debris—stalagmites protruded from random places, making it seem like the cavern walls would snap their jaws closed, devouring him in seconds.

The floor dipped into a low pool, filled with a dark liquid. A coppery scent permeated the air, emanating from the centre of the open space. The damp, cool air clung to his skin—clammy and sticky, and a bright, sickly, unnatural greenish hue filled the cavern. Rays bounced, casting large, malformed shadows of the cylindrical machinery on the walls. Long, black, slick, rope-like threads stretched from the machine, disappearing beneath the still liquid. Rymedur could see the slow pulse, almost as if it were beating, as the machine pulled the poll into it.

A buzzing sort of power hummed against his skin with every pull.

The quiet of the cave—a silence so loud it pressed against his skin—was disturbed by a frantic whisper. ‘You said this would work!’ the voice hissed low. ‘I know we needed her, not him. She will be the key!’

The conversation sounded one-sided. Stuttered.

Straining his ears, Rymedur leaned heavily against the wall, trying to make out who the voice belonged to and what floated in the cylinder tank. She was the key. That was what the voice had said. What did they mean? Were they referring to Areanel?

If that was true, then she must be close!

Another hush of whispers sounded, but Rymedur could not hear what was said from behind the rock to which he clung. If he could just get a little closer—

Snap.