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I stayed put after Lyssa slipped into the dark, the faint rustle of canvas settling back into place. A long moment passed while I sat there, staring at the flap like it might open again, mind churning.
My gaze drifted to Dent, asleep on his back, each slow rise and fall of his chest leaning into the next. “I know you’re awake,” I muttered, leaning just enough to catch the faint shift of his eyes beneath his lids.
One corner of his mouth tugged upward. “I should know better. Can’t get anything past you.”
I sank onto the edge of his cot, boots braced against the packed dirt. “How much did you hear?”
“Enough.” He rolled onto his side, propping his head on one arm. “You really think about killing that girl?”
The question landed heavy. I hesitated before answering. “Yes… I did.”
His expression barely changed, but the sadness in his eyes said plenty. “She’s a good person, Remy.”
“So are you.” The words came sharper than I meant. “You deserve better than this.”
“Remy…” His voice was low, warning and weary at once.
“I can’t lose you,” I pressed, shoving the guilt down hard. “I won’t.”
He studied me for a long beat, then said quietly, “I feel the same way, you know.”
“What?”
“That you’re family to me. The best sister I could ask for.”
Heat rose in my throat, and I had to look away.
“…And I know you’d fight the gods themselves before letting me go,” he added.
“We all would,” I said, voice cracking.
“Not like you.” His hand found mine, warm and grounding. “But you can’t lose yourself in this.”
I swallowed hard. “I’ll do what I have to.”
“No.” His tone was gentle but unyielding as he pulled my gaze back to his. “Promise me, Remy. No matter what… ”
“Don’t,” I cut in, softer than I meant.
“Promise me you’ll stay true to yourself.”
I shook my head. “I don’t even know what that means.”
“Yes, you do.” His voice stayed steady. “You’re good too, Remy.”
“I’m not.” I squeezed his hand tighter. “Not like you.”
“You are.” He tugged me forward until my forehead rested briefly against his. “And I want you to promise me, as my sister, you won’t ever forget that.”
My voice was thin when I answered. “We’re going to fix this, Dent. Whatever it takes.”
“I know.” He pulled me into a loose hug, his chin resting lightly on the top of my head. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You can’t.” I leaned into him. “I won’t let you.”
He exhaled, his voice dropping lower. “Then promise me you mean it. You’ll stay true to yourself, always.”
The lump in my throat made it hard to speak. I sat there for a long moment, breathing with him, before finally managing, “…Okay.” I drew in a shuddered breath. “I promise.”
He squeezed my shoulder once, slow and certain, before letting me rest against him. The cot radiated with a calming glow, enough to feel safe against the cool night air. Eventually, he let me ease down beside him. Breath steadying into something deep and even, and his warmth lulled me to sleep.
...
The camp had risen faintly when I slipped out of Dent’s tent, leaving him groggy and hungover from the night before. The air had that thin, chill bite before the sun’s heat could settle in. I drifted leisurely through the tents, black dress shifting in the wind. I hadn’t bothered changing, just stuffed my daggers into their thigh holsters before hitting the cook’s station for some jerky, then the treeline perimeter, following Nyla into the woods.
She paddled alongside me as I fed her small pieces of jerky, our pace light, until I caught sight of Kael’s crew, tucked far off among the trees.
All of them.
Kael, Bram, Tovin, Sierra, Nico, and Lyssa huddled in a loose semi-circle, angled in toward each other like they wanted their words to die before reaching far.
My stomach tightened. Well, that’s fucking suspicious.
Whatever they might be talking about, something told me I needed to hear it, so I crouched low, matching Nyla’s pace as she sank closer to the ground. We wove forward, dancing through the trees in surprising unison.
They were stopped in a small clearing. A thin shaft of sunlight spilling across the pine-needle floor. I knelt behind a broad oak, just out of sight, but still too far to catch their words. There was nowhere else to move without breaking cover. So I reached for something different.
I pictured pulling sound toward me, catching it like a net, until the aether curled in my palm like a current. The edges of their voices sharpened. I pictured each faint word flowing into me until it was as though they were speaking just beside me.
…
“That’s a pretty wide interpretation,” Sierra said, arms folded. “From what I’ve seen, Dent’s stable. More himself than half the camp after last night’s drinking session.”
“That’s the problem,” Bram cut in. “You think walking around and cracking jokes means he’s fine. You’re not watching what matters. He’s feeding intel to the parasite, helping it evolve; he has to be.”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions. We don’t have evidence of that,” Kael said.
Sierra narrowed her eyes. “I’m watching just fine, and it’s too damn early to talk about putting him down.”
Putting him down??
Bram scoffed. “You can’t be this naive. So he’s not spitting parasite blood in anyone’s mouth yet, but he’s making things harder for everyone. If he can’t get gone, he needs to be confined before it escalates.”
“Good luck getting their team to agree,” Nico said, voice edged with amusement.
Kael stayed calm, gesturing toward Bram. “We follow orders. Right now, that’s watch and wait, until it becomes obvious, or the call comes down directly.”
Who’s giving this order if not Kael?
“If,” Sierra corrected.
“More like when,” Tovin said. “We don’t know enough to act, but if he is linked to the thing in some way… that connection makes him dangerous, but maybe useful, if handled right.”
“That’s not our call,” Bram said flatly. “We’re not here to weaponize him.”
“Also.” Tovin shifted, uneasy. “All this if-and-when talk is useless for now. Even if we were ordered to, taking him down wouldn’t be easy. You think Remy’s going to step aside? Or any of them? We may be able to win, but we won't walk away clean either.”
“Keeping the infected contained is one thing,” Sierra muttered. “Slaughtering a whole squad? No way.”
“If we even could,” Nico added casually. “Something tells me we haven’t seen all they’re capable of.”
“Defending him would be acting against the queen’s order,” Kael said. “Highly illegal in that situation.”
Fucking queen, of course.
“I doubt they’d care about the legality,” Nico said. “But I agree with Sierra, it’s too early to assess while his whole team thinks he’s fine.”
“So we show them he’s not,” Bram said.
“He is,” Nico countered. “For now.”
“I’m not saying do it tonight,” Bram replied. “But we need to be ready. Wait until he’s too far gone, and it’ll bite us in the ass.”
No one spoke until Kael looked to Lyssa. “You’ve been quiet.”
Fuck. The tension coiled in my shoulders.
She hesitated, eyes dropping. “I’m not commenting on Dent’s condition.”
“That’s irregular,” Kael said evenly. “You treated him when he was injured. What did you find?”
“If there was something to tell you, I would have,” Lyssa said, jaw tight.
My shoulders eased. Thank the gods.
“That’s bullshit,” Bram snapped. “And everyone knows it.”
“Fuck off, Bram! This whole thing is bullshit,” she shot back with more bite than I’d heard from her before. “I’m not comfortable enforcing this order. If the queen wants blood on her hands, she can do it herself.”
Over my dead body.
“You wouldn’t be the one doing it,” Tovin reminded her, not unkindly.
“That doesn’t make it any less wrong,” she said, voice sharp.
Kael let the silence stretch before speaking, tone final. “The Order stands. If the time comes, we do what’s necessary for the mission. If you can’t, step aside and let those with the backbone handle it. But…” His gaze shifted between Bram and Sierra. “That time isn’t now. We need more evidence before making the call.”
A few murmurs of agreement followed, but no one seemed satisfied. Still, one by one, they began returning to camp.
I stayed put, sinking lower against the tree’s trunk, the bark cool and rough against my back until their voices faded into the underbrush. Nyla stretched out beside me, her flank warm against my leg, ears flicking at each distant voice before settling forward again.
Their discussion replayed in my head, every word, turning over like a blade in my palm.
...
I’d thought about what I heard all morning, playing scenarios in my head on whether or not I should tell Val, Eshlyn, or go handle Bram silently. I’m glad I was able to confirm what we had been anticipating, but for now, I figured it was best kept to myself.
It was late afternoon when Selene pulled me over to the scholars' tent. “Alexander is requesting your input, and it's something you may want to hear.” She said.
The large canopy smelled faintly of parchment, stale tea, and the faint, sour tang of preserved tissue. A low table in the center had scrolls draped over its mass so thick you could hardly recognize it as furniture. Around the edges were jars of cloudy fluid, and a large wooden case bristling with thin brass arms. Each arm held a lens of varying size and tint, all of them polished to a clinical gleam.
The man behind the table was broad-shouldered and heavy around the middle, his white shirt wrinkled with sleeves rolled to his elbows. His spectacles looked like some strange insect’s compounded eyes, layered lenses he flicked in and out of place with quick, practiced clicks.
Dent sat in a creaking chair opposite him, posture loose but eyes sharp. Eshlyn leaned against a side table cluttered with open books, arms holding her up. I caught the flicker of the scholarly man’s gaze as I slipped in, one brow lifting like he’d been expecting me.
“Remy,” Dent greeted me with a half-smile. “We missed you this morning. Where ya been?”
“Here and there. You know.” I said, not inviting follow-up.
Eshlyn cocked her head, breaking away from the stack of books. “Very descriptive.” Then smiled. “Hello darling, I trust you slept well?”
“Yes, thank you.” I tried smiling back, but it didn’t reach my eyes. The events from before still ringing in my ears.
“Pleased to officially meet you, my Lady. My name is Alexander. House Brimingstone. The larger gentleman cut in, then got right to the point. “We have news.”
“Good to meet you as well.” I wasn’t in the mood to introduce myself, so I left it at that.
After a beat, he clicked a lens into place, leaning forward to inspect the blood smear under his scope. “The parasite’s genetic makeup has shifted significantly. That much was obvious, I’m sure, but more specifically, it has grown increasingly organic.”
“Organic?” I asked, moving beside him.
“Responsive,” Eshlyn clarified. “It’s reacting to stimulus, mostly physical, but also emotional. We’re still testing that bit.”
Alexander tapped a finger on the table. “It’s learning. Mimicking even. A primitive neural net, not intelligent, not yet, but studying us as we study it.” He set two samples on opposite ends of the table, tapped one with a glass rod, and I watched both twitch in unison. “And somehow, there’s a bridge of communication between them, no matter the separation.”
The coil of unease in my gut tightened. “And the new sample we brought, for the cure?”
“Yes. We’ve got something.” Alexander gestured to a tray, looking proud of himself. A sealed vial of shimmering gold liquid nestled in its padded case. “Neutralizing agent, tailored to Dent’s current strain. In theory, it should weaken the parasite’s hold considerably.”
“In theory,” Eshlyn echoed, dry. “But it will not remove the infection. And every partial measure we’ve seen only drives it to adapt. Faster, stronger. At best, you buy a week before it evolves past the treatment, and you lose ground on finding a cure that works.”
I looked at Dent. Quiet, unreadable. “But it would buy time?”
“That’s the argument,” Alexander said. “And the disagreement.”
Eshlyn folded her arms. “Use it now, you shorten the parasite’s learning curve, and we may not get another chance.”
Alexander turned to me. “That’s why you’re here.”
“…You want me to decide?”
Eshlyn’s jaw set. “Alexander insisted we allow you’re input.”
I stepped in front of Dent, studying. “You look fine.”
Dent’s eyes trailed away, looking anywhere but me.
“You’re not… though… are you?”
He took a seat then, staring down at the floor. “No… I’m not.”
Eshlyn’s eyes fell soft but stayed focused. “Last time, it burned out fast, consumed aether, seized control, and left the body empty. Now it’s embedding itself deeper into his nervous system. Slow enough to hide the changes, but harder to dislodge. Purposeful, like it knows acting aggressively will prompt a reaction on our end.”
“The first time it made him sick… ” I couldn’t look away. “Val stabbed the heart, and we subdued the infection within a week.”
“It’s learned. Yes.” Alexander added. “Some would say it's afraid of you, if it could feel such a thing.”
“All this talk is worthless.” Dent finally spoke up, standing. “Even if I’m in control… I can feel it digging into my mind like a cancer, taking my experiences, altering things. We don’t need to think long-term. Right now, I need time. To dig deeper into the tomb. For Alexander to continue his research. To be myself before this thing can take anything else from me.”
I softened. Dent’s been dealing with this by himself. Not telling me everything so I wouldn’t treat him differently. “Dent…”
“And if it adapts before then?” Eshlyn pressed. Voice firm, but I caught the tremble in her lip.
“Then we deal with it when it happens.” He was already turning the vial in his hand, the gold catching the lamplight. “I want to take it… consequences be damned.”
Our eyes met over his shoulder. I didn’t need Eshlyn to say it; her look made it clear. This was a mistake.
“You’re sure this is what you want?” I asked, hand on his shoulder.
He stared for a moment, then pressed the vial to his lips.
Eshlyn braced herself against the table, like breath couldn’t gather fully in her lungs.
Dent finished the liquid, and the sun-kissed color returned to his skin. Subtle but noticeably different.
“I suppose that’s it then,” Alexander said calmly. “We’ll continue to monitor your condition carefully.”
Time. That's why he took it. He wanted to feel like himself, for as long as possible. I pulled him in, hugging around his waist. “We’ll figure this out.”
He tucked his arms around my shoulders. “I know we will.”
...
The outside air lay cool on my skin, the last gold light sinking through the trees in narrow, angled beams. It was always nice getting away from the chatter of camp. The forest was all hushed leaves and the thud of our boots in the dirt.
Val’s twin blades caught the fading light as he circled, both of us breathing hard from the last exchange. “Can't tell if you're getting stronger or are just mad at me,” he said, voice tinging with mischief.
“Haven’t knocked you on your ass yet, so you're doing well,” I jabbed back.
“Like you’ll ever be good enough for that.” He smirked. “I still run circles around you.”
“Yeah, you're panting like you just ran a marathon.” I parried his blade with one of my daggers, then lunged with the other.
He sidestepped and swung wide with his left. “Look who's talking.”
We broke apart and came together again in quick bursts, neither of us holding the upper hand for long. My blade slipped past his guard once, close enough to graze the leather at his ribs. He returned the favor moments later, a flick of his wrist sending my next strike just wide.
The rhythm was good, sharp and even, except my head wasn’t fully in it. My focus kept slipping back to Kael’s team, to the voices I’d overheard.
Put him down.
The phrase stuck like splinters in my skull.
Val swept low, forcing me to hop back. “You’re distracted.”
“I’m fine,” I lied, twisting into another strike.
He blocked, “We don’t have to talk about it.” Then, continued the exchange by swinging wide to my right side.
I ducked under, aiming low at his legs. He caught the motion, dropping his guard just enough to block, but I was already stepping in, my shoulder slamming into his thigh. His stance broke, and momentum carried us both down into the dirt. My training dagger came to rest at his throat a heartbeat after his blade tapped my ribs.
“Good, I’d rather not.” I paused, leaning over him. He didn’t move, only smirked about winning the exchange.
“That reckless shit is not always going to work.” He breathed.
“It seems to, with you.”
He gave me a shove, rolling me onto my back in one smooth motion. “I got you first.”
“Hardly,” I replied without resisting.
A pointed ahem broke the growing tension.
Both Val and I turned our heads at the same time. Sierra stood just off the edge of the clearing, arms folded, looking more amused than apologetic. Beside her, Lyssa held a pair of cloth-wrapped bundles, the smell of cooked meat drifting toward us.
“By all means, continue,” Sierra said dryly. “Pretend we’re not here.”
Val sat up first, brushing leaves from his shirt. “Dinner and a show? I don’t work for free.”
“Good thing I brought payment,” Lyssa said, stepping forward to hand over one of the bundles.
The warmth bled through the cloth, and the smell made my stomach growl before I even unwrapped it. Inside was roasted meat still steaming, a hunk of bread, and a wedge of cheese, the kind of camp meal that was a luxury compared to what passes for trail rations.
“Payment accepted.” Val took the second bundle from her with a grin. “Remy, assume the position.”
“Shut up!” I shoved him, lightly.
We ended up sitting in a loose circle on the grass. Sierra tore into her meal like it had personally offended her, tossing in sarcastic commentary about our “romantic” sparring. “You know,” she added between bites, “I don’t get why you lot waste so much time dodging and swinging when you could just set your enemy on fire and be done with it.” Lyssa smiled faintly at the back-and-forth but kept stealing glances at me, like she was weighing whether to say something. Probably what I already knew.
“You two always try to kill each other before dinner?” Lyssa asked between bites.
“Before. After.” I teased. “It's a wonder he’s still alive.”
Val gestured with a piece of bread. “Keeps me on my toes.”
She tilted her head, watching the easy back-and-forth. “Maybe I can join in after we eat?”
That pulled Sierra’s attention. “Since when do you spar for fun?”
Lyssa smirked. “Three older brothers, all scrappy bastards. Boxing, wrestling, they taught me a bit of everything.”
“Organized fighting type stuff?” Sierra’s brows furrowed. “I’d of never guessed.”
“We weren't wrestling,” I muttered, still stuffing my face. “I use daggers.”
Sierra’s mouth curved, “Could have fooled me.”
“Remy thinks she’s smart,” Val deflected. “Rushing in for takedowns when I got a sword to her gut.”
“It worked and you know it.” I pointed at him with a piece of bread.
“Wrestling hardly works in real combat.” Val stood then, setting his food down and wiping his trousers. “But… show me what you’ve got, Lyssa.”
“Okay.” She got up, a smirk growing on her face. “Throw a punch at me.”
Val arched a brow. “You’re sure about this?”
“Yeah, don’t be a wuss.”
He shrugged, then stepped in with a quick jab, not full speed, but fast enough to test her. Lyssa caught his wrist mid-swing, pivoting on her heel and tossing him clean over her hip. Val hit the dirt with a thud and a grunt, landing flat on his back while Lyssa still had his arm.
Sierra’s laugh cut through the clearing. “Damn!”
Val lay there a beat, staring up at the treetops, then huffed out a laugh of his own. “Fair enough. Not bad.”
Lyssa helped him up and stepped back, picking up her food like nothing had happened. “Told you.”
The light sank low, gold giving way to the cool hue of night. The four of us finished eating, breaking from dinner now and then to demonstrate or show off. Sierra kept her stance, insisting everything was useless compared to a fireball. The three of us sparred until the last traces of sunlight were gone, trading blows until even the lantern light wasn’t enough to keep the damp darkness at bay.
...
The next dive came quick. Two cartographers joined us this time, along with Dagonbord, still as useless as ever, though at least he could carry his own pack. I’d made sure to only take volunteers. Their task was simple: map every chamber path we passed. And, if I gave the signal, get the hell out.
But that signal never came.
We moved just as slowly as the first time, our boots echoing in the empty stone of the first two chambers. Nothing had changed.
The third chamber remained a ghost town of beating tendrils seemingly detached from the slain heart. There was no sample to collect this time, no clear enemy to face, we just swept each alcove in turn. Once a hive of undead, now rest empty, all dead ends and quiet anxiety. We eventually found our way to the middle alcove, which split into multiple paths, each one twisting into silent denials… Except one.
An ominous, slick tunnel sloped downward at a near ninety-degree angle into the dark.
“Is this seriously the only path that leads somewhere?” Val said what everyone was thinking.
“A smelly slide into who knows where? No, thank you,” Sierra muttered, voice sharp with disdain.
“There are more alcoves to search.” Kael gestured to the cartographers. “Note it and move on.”
They did, and we continued, one curling, narrowing path after another. The organic tendrils that webbed the walls grew thinner the deeper we went, but every branch still ended in silence. It must’ve been well past mid-afternoon when we trudged back to the third chamber, maps rolled tight with cold precision.
I dropped beside Eshlyn, forming a loose semicircle with her, Val, and Dent. Chest tight with wasted time and disappointing results. Lunch rations came out anyway, and the hush of chewing filled the air, thick with grim silence and patient mapping. “A full morning of anxious hiking, and we come back with nothing,” I said, pesimistically peering at Dent like he was a clock ticking downward.
Kael, Nico, and Tovin drifted over with their own rations. Dried fruit, condensed bars, and premade meats.
“Not true,” Nico said, sitting casually. “We found the way. It’s just a gaping hole in the floor, yawning back like looming death.”
My jaw tensed. I couldn’t help thinking back to their hushed talk about Dent.
Good luck getting their team to agree.
We may be able to win, but we won’t walk away clean either.
The Order stands. If the time comes, we do what’s necessary for the mission.
Val noticed, because of course he did. He slid over loosely, leaning into me to whisper, “Why do you look like you want to stab them just for sitting down?”
I chewed a dried peach slice before muttering under my breath at him, “'Cause maybe I do.”
He smirked, like he half-expected me to follow through. “You gonna?”
I took a slow bite of cheese and bread, chewed, swallowed. “I wish I could… but they're a necessary evil, for now.”
He stared at me for a second, gears turning behind his eyes, then went back to his meal, not pushing, but not forgetting either.
The rest of them moved into the circle, leaving Dagonbord and the cartographers on the outskirts. Even Bram took a seat next to Tovin, like she wasn’t plotting an attack on us this whole time.
“Better to bring the whole place down than slide into the unknown,” Tovin broke the silence, half joking.
“That is a contingency,” Dagonbord said calmly. “At least it would be sealed.”
And so would Dent’s fate. My blood boiled, but I kept my mouth shut.
“Talk of contingencies aren’t needed at this stage,” Kael said, his tone edged with command. “However threatening the hole may appear, we have to check it out. As we’ve seen, it’s the only way forward.”
Agreed, for once.
“Jump into the slipping slide of death?” Sierra scoffed. “Y’all go ahead, I’ll be here enjoying the emptiness.”
“No, you won’t,” Kael replied, voice flat. “If there’s a fight down there, we need you in it.”
Another awkward silence settled over the circle until Nico broke it, leaning back on their elbows. “Shall we think rationally for a moment… ”
“Gonna be tough for some of us.” Bram eyed me unapologetically.
I was above talking at this point, so I didn’t acknowledge, just stared like I’d get the chance to end her any day now.
“In the very first chamber,” Nico continued. “Whatever logic center is behind this parasite, shows us what it’s capable of and tells us plainly, Get out… ”
“It’s posturing.” Eshlyn interrupted for a beat.
“Exactly…” They pointed with a piece of jerky. “The rest of this is barren ground it can afford to lose, or doesn’t care about. And at the far end? It presents us with a single way forward. An ominous slide into darkness, with no idea where we’ll land... That’s far from an accident.”
“That’s your pitch for going down there?” Sierra’s voice rose with its usual annoyance. “Because it sounds like the opposite.”
“It’s not a pitch, it’s an observation.” Nico’s tone stayed mild. “I’m just saying, by entering there, we’re answering its question with a refusal. And I’m betting that it will respond in kind.”
“Or it’s just a hole,” Val said dryly, tearing another bite from his bread.
“I’m fairly certain it’ll take us further in.” Eshlyn muttered, “We know there is more, and that’s the only way without wielding a pickaxe through stone.”
“Whatever it is. It’s dangerous.” Lyssa chimed in.
“State the obvious much?” Bram jabbed, but Lyssa only shook her head.
“I’m confused, Bram. Enlighten me, will ya?” Val said, voice surprisingly even. “Are you not worried you’ll get cut from the fangs when this mission is over? Aren’t you all competing?”
“The hell are you getting at?” She replied, still chewing.
Dent interjected, “If you piss everyone off, you’ll get cut when the vote comes in.”
“Those that matter know I’m loyal, competent, and acting in everyone's best interest.” She snapped. “So no, I’m not.”
“Interesting take,” I muttered in response.
She cut a slice into a piece of meat. “You got something to say?”
My hand slid to my dagger, but Kael tossed an apple at me, “Cut it out, you two.”
I caught it with an aether hand, keeping my own steady.
“You all are ignoring the task at hand,” Tovin said, voice like gristle. “Someone's got to scope out the bottom of that hole, whose it going to be?”
“I can go,” Dent said quickly. “We need a scout. It could be dangerous. I’ll do it.”
“The hell you will!” I snapped before realizing I was about to volunteer someone I cared about less. “I mean, no… It should be me.”
“Not a chance.” Kael met my eyes. “We can’t risk our commander on a scouting mission… the obvious choice is Nico.”
“I accept.” Nico shrugged like it didn’t bother them. “It is my position, after all.”
Eshlyn shifted beside me. “Needless to say, it will not be easy to climb back up. Not without help. We can set up a pulley system with ropes, but all of us making a quick retreat? Out of the question.”
Lyssa finally spoke, voice quiet but firm. “Then we don’t waste time. We make the drop while we still have strength.”
I glanced around the group, watching the discomfort ripple through them. No one liked the idea, but no one had a better one.
She then looked to Nico. “We’ll tie a rope around you, pull you up quick if anything happens.”
“I’m counting on it,” Nico said, grinning at me and Dent. “And perhaps a flaggon of ale when I get back.”
I didn’t respond, just watched them like I was waiting for the mask to slip. They weren’t a friend anymore. Not an enemy either, not like Bram, but they didn’t refuse, not really. So if it came to blows, I’d put them down all the same.
“Hell yeah.” Dent punched my shoulder, easing the tension a bit. “Looking forward to the rematch.”
...
The tunnel yawned before us like the throat of some buried beast, slick walls glistening under the lamplight. It wasn’t a clean drop, more like a treacherous slide pitched at a steep, stomach-lurching angle. Far enough from vertical to tempt you into thinking you could control your descent, but sharp enough that the idea was probably a lie. The end vanished into blackness, swallowing the light before it reached more than a few meters down.
“Delightful,” Nico muttered, leaning over the lip just far enough to make my pulse jump. “Could be fun.”
“That’s the spirit,” Sierra raised her fist in support while standing the furthest she could get from the edge.
“Ugh.” I gripped Val’s shoulder as he planted his boots in the grit and looked over the side. “Yeah… looks like it’s coated in something.”
It was. A sheen clung to the surface, too thick to be water. Some places glimmered as if wet, others were strung with fine, hair-like filaments that quivered when the draft shifted.
But that didn’t stop Nico, who straightened and rolled their shoulders like they were limbering up for a performance. “Well, no point standing around admiring the architecture.”
Lyssa tied a rope around their waist, then anchored the end on a rock not far off. “Three tugs and we’ll haul you back up. Fast as lightning.”
“Aye aye.” Nico saluted with two fingers, then jogged toward the hole like slowing down might give second thoughts a chance to catch up.
“Wait!” I stopped them just shy of the entrance, checking the rope for frays and yanking the knot like I didn’t trust it. “You’re sure about this?”
Nico nearly laughed, then gave me a knowing look. “So you do care. I was starting to think I ended up on your bad side, recently.”
“Mhmm.” I stared back, brushing the dirt off their shoulder. “Not a place you want to stay, I assure you.”
“Don’t I know it.”
I forfeited a smile. “You’re too observant for your own good.”
“I’m not the only one.” They grinned.
“Three tugs,” I let the rope fall from my grip. “Don't forget.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” They nodded, then leaped into the maw like a suicidal adrenaline junky.
The rope hissed through Bram’s gloves, the sound sharp against the dead air of the chamber. Nico vanished almost instantly, swallowed whole by the slick black throat of the slide. Five seconds, maybe less, of rapid descent, the taut line trembling with their momentum. Then, nothing. The rope went slack for a heartbeat, followed by three hard tugs, urgent enough to jolt Bram’s arms.
We all rushed in, yanking the rope in combined effort until Nico surfaced, slimy and frowning.
“Well, that was quick,” Val muttered.
“Get everything you needed to?” Kael asked plainly.
“Sure did,” Nico responded, unhooking themselves from the rope and taking a seat like they needed a break. “And you're not gonna like it.”
“Go on.” Val motioned, taking a stick in his hand and locating a dirt patch free of tendrils.
“It drops straight into a circular chamber, like a large donut.” They continued as Val sketched, “A far-off corridor on the opposite wall, but no other alcoves. Skeletal undead line the perimeter, unmoving but not bothering to hide either.”
“How many?” Kael asked plainly.
“At least a few hundred,” Nico responded, voice heavy.
The horde, waiting in the only space with no retreat.
“As suspected,” Eshlyn said. “They’re waiting on our answer and warding us off at the same time.”
“More posturing.” Lyssa chimed in.
“Hardly… that’s a literal death trap,” Sierra pointed at the hole.
“No one freak out, okay. Let’s think…” I paused for a beat, letting my thoughts flow. “Circular chamber means they can come from all sides. No chokepoints, and there’s too many to put our backs against the wall.”
“Nothing except for the corridor at the other end.” Nico pointed out. “But it’s almost certainly not safe there either.
Val made a large circle in the dirt, a line marking the entrance, and an “X” on the other end. “When we go in, all of us retreating up the slope becomes impossible, and we’re caught out in open space until we reach the far-off corridor.”
“Which is probably a setup,” Nico added again.
Kael pointed to the ‘X’, “Battlefield logic dictates we set up at the most defensible position, forward or back, doesn’t matter.
“You're not seriously considering that as a viable option?” Sierra waved her arms. “Hundreds of undead on one side, even if we make it there. Plus, who knows what on the other.”
No one spoke for a beat. Trying to come up with a solution, or anything that may help.
The corridor is the best chance, but she’s right.
Eshlyn walked to my side, “The terrain favors them in every way.”
“And it knows it.” Lyssa said, “That’s why it's not hiding.”
“A funnel is the only chance we have against a horde that size,” Tovin muttered as if thinking out loud. “...and they’ve stationed themself in the only place that’s impossible.”
The silence settled again, as we all stood for a long beat, contemplating our next move.
“We’ll we have to do something,” I muttered. “Obviously.”
Kael spoke first, “Dagonbord, you mentioned a wagon carrying smokepowder was on its way here?”
“Yes, of course.”
My brow furrowed, “...What are you getting at?”
“We have already accomplished sample collection, so eradicating the parasite is the only remaining task. “Kael said, voice even, like he was reciting from a manual. “Burying this place under rubble meets that objective and overturns the stalemate placed on us by the parasite’s strategic positioning.”
“... What?” I froze in disbelief, “What about Dent? The current sample isn’t good enough.”
Kael looked at me apologetically. “Dent's condition is a task for Alexander and his team. Our objective is complete as soon as the smokepower arrives.”
“You can't be serious?” Eshlyn chimed in, “We have to press forward. He won’t survive otherwise.”
All eyes turned towards Dent, but he didn’t say anything. He barely moved, gaze drifting to the floor.
“Pressing forward is impossible.” Tovin spoke up, “I know it hurts Dent's odds, but this is the most pragmatic solution.”
“The only solution,” Bram said, voice calm as ever.
“You’re cowards…” I nearly stumbled, breath catching, then turned towards the rest of them. “How can you be so cruel?” Nico wouldn’t look at me, nor would Sierra. Lyssa's mouth opened, but only closed again.
“We can't jump into a suicide mission on the off chance some miracle cure is hiding on the other side of certain death.” Bram snapped. “Going down there risks all of us… It’s idiotic to even try.”
“I’m sorry, Remy.” Kael stepped closer, reaching to pat my shoulder, but I shrugged him off. “Don’t.”
His hand hung in the air, then dropped to silence. Nothing but the scuff of boots on stone. Something between rage, horror, and despair rose like bile in my throat. Heartache gripped at me as Tovin, Kael, and Bram slowly turned to leave, followed reluctantly by Sierra. Nico and Lyssa were the only ones who stayed, expressions unsure.
Leave and Dent’s done for. I can't let them. I won't.
“Wait!” I took a breath, smoothing the edge from my voice along with the crushing weight on my chest. “If you won’t fight for Dent…” I let my gaze sweep them one by one, holding it just long enough to force them to meet my eyes. “…then fight for me.”
Bram snorted, ready to tear into me, but I didn’t give her the chance.
“You’ve suspected, I’m sure.”
That got their attention. Keep going.
“I ordered them to keep it secret.” I flicked my eyes toward Val, Dent, and Eshlyn. “To spare me from differential treatment… but they slipped up, here and there. I know you’ve heard it.”
A lingering silence settled, but no one looked away. I had them, in some minuscule way, I knew I had them.
“That night at Milo’s.” My gaze shifted to Sierra, then Nico. “I couldn’t hide, didn’t care to anymore, and you saw.”
“I told you!” Sierra motioned towards Nico, mouth tugging upward. “You thought they were joking, but no one kids about that kind of thing.”
“It seems you were right,” Nico responded. “Royal wear trudged out to the edge of the world… people don’t do that for just anyone.”
“Someone fill me in please.” Tovin stepped toward them. “What are you all talking about?”
“It’s time I came clean.” Val, Dent, and Eshlyn moved beside me, eyes unsure as I paused for effect. “The queen gifted me command over this expedition as a favor to my family.”
Bitch queen said a name at dinner. A family name. Eshlyn’s… Elleth.
I stepped up, raising my arms like I imagined a queen might, “I am heir to the Elleth throne.” The name dropped like a blade; whatever it meant, I had no idea, but I could only pray it was believable.
Kael’s brows rose, lips growing into a smirk. “I knew it.”
The right words, the right tone. It’s all theatrics. I thought turning to him, regal as I could make it. “You questioned how I could obtain this position and wield it so recklessly… I apologize for not confessing to you then. It was frightening how easily you saw through me. ”
“No need, your grace.” He replied, placing a fist to his chest to bow like a knight. “I’m sure you had your reasons.”
Val went to one knee then. “Your grace, I never meant to...”
“You’ve done well,” I cut in, hand on his shoulder. “I forgive you.”
Dent dropped beside him without hesitation. “I beg your forgiveness as well, your grace. I let my tongue slip too often.”
“You are forgiven.” I met his gaze but looked away before his goofball presence could break my carefully crafted composure.
Eshlyn said nothing, just folded her arms and let the silence stretch, an unreadable look on her face.
“Of course! It all makes sense…” Lyssa’s eyes lit up, meeting mine. “I had heard the rumors. A half-elf daughter set to inherit the throne, enlisted for ascension despite their birthright. And that morning in the woods, how could I be so blind?”
“I admit, I had suspicions when you were granted leadership, then refused to be addressed as ‘my lady’.” Tovin laughed a breath. “And you are certainly the type to choose ascension over an easy life as royalty.”
Holy shit, it's actually working.
My eyes drifted over them all. “You’ve done well to serve Queen Aurelene’s orders, but now I charge you with mine… Face this enemy together. Prove yourselves as warriors under my family’s crown, and when we emerge victorious, your names will be whispered throughout my kingdom and beyond. Every bit of my being believes in this. In you. Fight with me.”
I let my gaze rest on Bram last. “Or… you can tell the tale of how you turned your back on a princess. On my family, and my name.”
Bram’s mouth tightened like she had a retort, but Kael spoke before she could spit it out.
“We stand with you, your grace.” He straightened, the shift in his posture telling the others this wasn’t up for debate. “But even thinking optimistically, the odds are not in our favor.”
“Exactly!” Bram’s voice cut back in, sharp as a blade. “Princess or not, this is still suicide.”
“No.” I kept my voice firm. “We can win this.“ Then stepped up to the drawn circle and tried to project confidence, “A brawl in the open allows us to be surrounded. A wedge or semi-circle formation against the wall only eliminates one direction of attack. That would be suicide, but we regain the advantage by making it to the corridor on the other side of the chamber. Even if something is waiting to flank us, we’re only fighting on two fronts. And in that case, Tovin can break off from the front line and seal off the corridor behind us with an aether barrier.”
Val rose beside Dent, both wearing that look like I’d done something impossible. “Two directions. We cut one off and face it one threat at a time.” Val nodded in agreement. “The formation holds.”
“I suppose…” Sierra looked uncertain but continued, “It does sound workable, in theory.”
Kael stepped up then, “I second the notion. That corridor is the best chance we have.”
Tovin nodded his head for a moment, then bowed in respect. “If the heir to Elleth is asking, I’ll not be the one to refuse.”
Lyssa exhaled slowly, then smiled. “I promise to keep you all upright.”
“We can do this.” I breathed. “This is our moment. Let’s teach this parasite what it means to fuck with us.”
“Hell yeah.” Lyssa and Sierra bumped fists.
“For the Fangs.” Tovin put his hand in a circle as if at a sporting event.
Kael followed, eyeing me, “For the crown.”
“I guess we’re doing this.” Sierra sighed, a flicker of fire sparking to life in her palm. “Let’s show the princess what we’re made of.”
“I still think this is bullshit,” Bram’s arms folded, then loosened to join us, “…but I’m not staying behind.”
Each followed suit until we were all pressed in a gaggle of limbs. “On three.” Dent started. “One.” Eshlyn looked at me with something like admiration. “Two.” Lyssa chimed in. “Three!” Kael said as if giving an order, and all at once we pressed in, then dispersed in solem giggles.
When we had settled, I called out to the group. “Gear up.” Then walked in the first direction I could, heart in my chest.
Dent, Eshlyn, and Val all lunged in once we were far enough away, pulling me in different directions like a disorderly mosh pit, just careful enough not to draw too much attention.
“I cannot believe you!” Eshlyn shoved, eyes bright. “I am honestly at a loss for words.”
“You got some big fucking balls.” Val motioned with his hand before bracing his arm around my shoulder, “dropping a name like that. Pure insanity.”
“And undeniably illegal," Eshlyn said, half-worry and astonishment. “But it worked.”
“Shhhh.” I pulled at them, unable to contain the smile creeping across my face, then Dent pulled me into a long hug. “Thank you,” is all he said, but it was enough.
Accomplishment grew into the clawing tightness of realization. I’d convinced them to march straight into the jaws of death, for a lie. I let the feeling linger… but Dent will live; that's all that matters now.
Dagonbord moseyed in from not far off. Slowly approaching with suspicion and practiced ease. His gaze drifted to Eshlyn, just long enough to notice before returning to me. “Your… grace,” he said at last, the pause deliberate. “It seems I may have misjudged certain details.” The ghost of a smile tugged at his mouth. “No matter. Truth has a way of revealing itself… That much is certain.”
No words passed between us, so he turned away. All grace and manners, heading towards the exit, cartographers in tow.
“...Good luck.”