The two slipped through the massive stalks, keeping a brisk pace as they went. Sylven kept track of the hours, while Cyrus kept his focus on the drake. Its direction curved through the mushrooms, and Sylven concluded that it must be tracking them somehow.
Ahead, they spotted a plateau, rising from the surrounding cluster.
"Let's make our way to the top, and figure out where we are," Sylven said. "Perhaps we can find a way out of here."
They hurried forward, crossing the last few leagues until they reached the plateau. As they climbed the side, Cyrus's bandages caught on the rocks, and they cut into his palm. Biting his cheek, he pulled back his hand, revealing a speckle of blood on the stones.
"Are you alright?' Sylven asked.
"Yes, but I think I figured out how the drake's tracking us," Cyrus said. He held out his hand. "It must be drawn to the scent of blood."
Sylven cursed. "You're right. I should have considered that. Come on, we can rewrap your hands once we reach the top."
They quickened their ascent, soon reaching the top. Once there, Sylven assisted Cyrus in wrapping his palms, until it looked as though he wore a pair of gloves. When they finished, he scanned the cavern of mushrooms.
"Can you tell me where the drake is now?"
Cyrus focused on the cluster, spreading out his consciousness. In the distance, a section of the golden caps brightened, before dimming once more. Sylven rubbed his chin.
"I'd say there's at least four leagues between us and the drake. Not bad, considering we spent half the day trying to escape."
Cyrus turned around, and scanned the remainder of the cavern. At least ten leagues remained between them and the edge, and the exhaustion of the day weighed heavily on his muscles. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Sylven frowning.
"Say, can you do anything to slow the drake down?" Sylven asked. "Perhaps move a few of the mushrooms around, and block its path?"
"I'll try," Cyrus said. He closed his eyes, delving deeper into the hive mind of mushrooms. Concentrating on the ones around the drake, he spread out his aether, but the distance was too great to do anything.
Scowling, he released his magic, and opened his eyes. "I'm afraid not. Even if I could, the drake is moving through the mushrooms like a butcher carving a pig."
"I feared as much," Sylven said. He narrowed his eyes. "Still, we need rest if we're going to travel any farther. At the pace the drake is traveling, it should take about five hours for it to catch us. We'll use two of those to rest."
"In shifts again?" Cyrus asked. Sylven nodded. "Very well. I'll keep watch first."
Sylven quickly pulled out his mat, and rolled it out. Almost minutes after he laid down, his breathing slowed to an even pace, surprising Cyrus once again.
'What has he been through that he can sleep so easily in this situation?' Cyrus wondered. He unfurled his own mat, and sat down, keeping an eye on the drake position. Its movements had become more certain after they arrived at the plateau, reaffirming Cyrus's belief it was following the scent of his blood.
Once the hour passed, Cyrus woke Sylven, and they switched. It took him a bit longer to fall asleep, but it felt like only seconds had passed before Sylven was shaking him awake. Groaning, he pushed himself upright, and checked the position of the drake.
"It's closer than I thought it'd be," Sylven said. "We should pick up the pace."
"How? Any faster and we'll run out of strength before we reach the end," Cyrus said.
"With magic, of course," Sylven said. He walked to the edge of the plateau, and leapt off, his lean figure vanishing in a second.
Cyrus scrambled to the side, and peered down. At least thirteen meters stood between him and the ground below, but Sylven stood comfortably at the bottom.
"Are you alright?" Cyrus asked.
"I'm fine, now come on. I'll catch you," Sylven said.
"Right…" Cyrus eyed the drop. It was nothing compared to the edge of the cliff he jumped from before, but the problem was the lack of plants at the bottom to break his fall. "Yeah, no. I'm not doing that."
Sylven rolled his eyes as Cyrus lowered himself over the edge of the plateau, and climbed down, taking his time. When he reached the bottom, he stretched his shoulders.
"There, see. All good," Cyrus said. He glanced at Sylven. "Alright, what about this spell you mentioned."
"It's a simple one, which relies on the use of wind," Sylven said. "I didn't use it earlier, because it requires a lot of concentration, but it looks like now we don't have a choice."
Cyrus waved his hand. "No, we do not. So use it already."
Sylven held out his hands. "Eraveil, denete."
A cool gust swirled through the mushroom, wrapping itself around Cyrus and Sylven. Their hair and clothes were blown back as it coated their bodies, and Cyrus felt something pushing against his back, like a firm set of hands.
"Try taking a step," Sylven said.
Cyrus moved forward, and was surprised to find his body felt lighter, and moved with ease. Going backwards proved the opposite, and he almost tripped over his own feet.
"The wind will only propel you in one direction," Sylven said. "But that's all we need right now anyway."
"Good. Let's go then," Cyrus said.
With that, the two broke into a run, bolting through the mushrooms, and leaving the plateau behind. The stalks flew past on either side, becoming blurs as they raced forward, vaulting over the ponds, and nimbly bounding over cracks and crevices.
With time, Cyrus grew more confident, tightening his grip on his pack as his feet pounded the stones below. He considered it might have been fun, had their lives not been in danger. Of course, this idea vanished the moment he stumbled over an upturned stone, and nearly ran face first into a mushroom.
Throwing his weight to the side, he spun to the side and regained his footing. Fifteen minutes later, they broke through the wall of mushrooms, and skidded to a stop. Sylven held up his hand, and glanced around.
"Hold on. I feel something," Sylven said, pausing.
Cyrus bent over, panting for breath. As the pressure of wind left his body, he picked himself up, and looked around."What is it?"
The cavern continued on before them, its shadows spreading across the grey walls, growing darker the farther it went. Sylven took a step forward, and scanned the depths.
"There's wind. It's coming from that direction, but I can't be certain where," Sylven said.
Cyrus frowned. He didn't feel anything, but the humidity in the air. Then again, his skin was still numb from the race there. "How far is it?"
Sylven shrugged. "We'll need to get closer before I know. Lenwillo, Acilfur"
The ball of familiar light flickered to life above his shoulder, revealing a stone floor, pocketed with bubbling pools and stalagmites. Cyrus kicked a pebble into one, and it sunk deeper than he could see.
"This is going to be difficult," Cyrus said. "One wrong move, and we'd be boiled alive."
"At least it'll be just as difficult for the drake to navigate through this," Sylven said. He took the lead, working his way past the stone spires, and around the pools.
Cyrus followed close behind, making sure he stepped in the same spots as Sylven. The bubbling pools splashed drops of water on his trousers, and the heat burned his legs, but he ignored the pain, and kept calm.
An hour into the labyrinth of pools, a guttural roar reverberated through the cavern. Cyrus flinched, and ducked behind a column of stone. Sylven followed suit, and snuffed out the ball of light.
Behind them, the glow of the mushroom outlined the shadow of the drake, pacing along the edge of the pools. Its tail flicked in the air behind it as it tried to follow them in, only to roar, and turn back.
"Do you see that?" Cyrus asked, keeping his voice low. "It can't follow us in."
The words barely left his mouth when the drake leapt forward, lunging over the first few pools, and crushing a stalagmite as it landed. Its amethyst eyes gleamed in the distance as it swiveled its gaze towards Cyrus and Sylven.
As Cyrus met its gaze, a shiver ran down his spine. "Gods above. We're going to die."