The dirt and clay that coated the tunnel floor crunched under Calen's feet as he pushed one foot in front of the other, wincing as a particularly large patch of Heraya's Ward shimmered blueish-green light into his eyes. The yellow flowers they had seen in Vindakur and in the Portal Heart on the other side of the ring had dwindled in number the further they walked, and the bluish-green colour they knew from Durkadur had slowly returned. He wasn't sure how long they had been walking after coming through the ring. Days? A week? Without being able to see the sun rise and set, the only thing he had to go by was when the group stopped to sleep: six times. Surely that meant six days had passed?
Calen grunted as a sharp pain rumbled in his stomach. He swallowed hard. The only food they had come across were small rat-like creatures with six legs and grey mushrooms that grew through the cracks in the tunnels' smooth surface.
The mushrooms tasted the way shit smelled. The first time Calen had eaten one he had spewed all over the ground, losing what precious scraps of food he had already eaten that day. The rats weren't too bad as long as they were burnt to a crisp. But they were scrawny and had little meat on their bones. If they didn't find a way out of the tunnels soon, they would starve – of that, Calen had no doubt. But for the moment at least, they were alive.
Only eight of them had made it through the ring, including him and Valerys. Eight. Calen's empty stomach wrenched in pain at the thought of how many had fallen to the kerathlin. Those horrible spider-like monstrosities had shredded through them mercilessly. Images of the swarm flooding over the city streets had haunted Calen's dreams ever since, the screams and the click-clack of claws echoing through his mind.
He clenched his jaw, pushed his thoughts down, and kept moving. There would be time to mourn once he had seen the others to safety. His duty was to those who still lived. He owed them that much.
Calen felt a grumble in his mind from Valerys. Each passing day in the never-ending enclosed space had set an anxiousness in the dragon. Not that the tunnels were tiny by any measure. Each of them was large enough for a Wind Runner to travel through, except for a few that seemed solely for the purpose of foot travel. Though, what was a small or large amount of space was vastly different to Calen than it was to Valerys. Dragons were creatures of legend, meant to soar through open skies, not to be hemmed in on all sides by endless tunnels of smooth rock.
The idea a dragon could feel anxiety in the same way people did was not something Calen had ever considered. But they most definitely did. The anxiety that consumed Valerys bled into Calen, seeping into his mind and body. Valerys's emotions were Calen's; they were one and the same. His stomach turned as the walls closed in, sweat glistened on his palms, his heartbeat fluttered erratically, speeding up, then slowing down, and an uncontrollable tremble had crept into his breathing. It was as though his own mind were closing in on itself, and it paid no heed to the fact that he would be trapped beneath the weight. But despite it all, he would not change a thing. He would not leave Valerys to suffer alone. A burden shared was a burden halved.
"Another dead end," Erik said as they came to an abrupt halt. With a slow sigh, he rested his hands on the wall of rock that closed off the end of the tunnel. "We've been at this for days… This place is a maze. What if it doesn't lead to the surface and we're just walking around aimlessly?" Panic crept into Erik's voice as he spoke, quickly followed by resignation as his shoulders slumped. "We're dead men."
"We will find a way out. Have faith, our journey is not yet finished," Vaeril said, handing Erik a waterskin. "Don't take too much. I haven't sensed water in a while. I'm not sure how long we will need it to last."
From time to time, Vaeril had been able to sense underground pools of water with the Spark. Just like the food, there was never much water in one place, but it had been enough to keep them from dying of thirst.
"Our journey? Our journey is dead and buried!" Dark purple circles ringed Erik's eyes, and dried dirt matted his skin. Calen sensed the same level of agitation from him as he did from Valerys. The same agitation that rose inside himself. "And now we have no water? What's the damn point?" Erik threw the waterskin against the floor and slammed his back against the wall of the tunnel in frustration.
"Calm yourself, Erik," Tarmon said, his hand resting on Erik's shoulder. "We will find a way out, and we will find more water. The only way we will die down here is if we give in to our darkest thoughts."
Erik wheeled around, glaring at Tarmon. "Calm myself? Do you not see where we are? This is not some foe we can just cut our way through. We're going to die down here, slowly, buried under miles of stone, and there's not a damn thing we can do about it!" Erik's chest heaved, trembling as the words left his mouth, and he stood there in silence, his gaze locked on Tarmon's. "How are you all right with this?"
"He's not." Calen said, stepping forward, all eyes turning towards him. Ever since Calen had known Erik, the man had never once faltered. He had always been sure of himself, always willing to lay his life down. To see him now, like this, felt wrong. "None of us are, Erik. But I, for one, am not ready to just lay down and die."
Erik turned his stare to the dirt-packed ground, ran his tongue over the front of his teeth, and slid down the wall of the tunnel, nodding absently as he did. "Sorry… I don't know what's happening to me. I'm just…"
"It's all right," Tarmon replied, snatching up the discarded waterskin and handing it back to Erik. "There are demons within us all that we must face. They only ever surface when we are at our lowest because they are not strong enough to challenge us at our highest. Now, drink. We will rest here for a while, I think." Tarmon glanced towards Calen as though he expected confirmation. Calen ignored the hulking man's expectant gaze and dropped himself to the ground. These decisions were not his. He had not earned them, he did not want them, and he certainly was not the one who should be making them.
With a stiff argument from his muscles, Calen rested his back against the wall of the tunnel, just beside a small glowing patch of Heraya's Ward. His legs and back ached, and his eyes were tacky from the dirt and dust in the tunnels. He ran his fingers through his matted hair, digging them into his temples in an effort to relieve the pressure that was building up in his head. Valerys padded over to him and lay at his side, nuzzling his head into Calen's shoulder. Calen felt the uneasy sensation settling back into his mind, mixing with a warm comfort. A chaotic blend. It will be okay. We will find a way out.
"Y'all right?"
Calen hadn't seen Falmin approach, but the navigator hunched down in front of him, his spindly fingers wrapped around the neck of an outstretched waterskin. Regardless of the situation, Falmin never seemed to lose the arrogance in the way he moved. His cotton shirt was a mess of dirt marks and bloodstains, and dents covered the strange copper-sided glasses that sat atop his usually pristine, slicked back hair, which was now filthy and bedraggled. But despite this, there was a smirk on his face and a self-assured look in his eye.
Calen took the skin from Falmin. Relief flooded through him as the cold water touched his cracked lips and soothed the dryness in his throat. "Yeah…" he said with a sigh. "I'm just tired, and there doesn't seem to be an end in sight."
"Could be worse," Falmin said as he took the waterskin back from Calen.
"Worse?"
"You could 'ave no legs," Falmin said with a shrug, standing back up to full height.
"I…" Calen just stared at Falmin for a moment before he shook his head as he allowed himself a laugh that descended into a dry cough. "How do you do it?"
"How do I do what?" the navigator asked, setting himself down on the other side of Calen.
"Make jokes, when…" Calen didn't finish his sentence. Falmin tracked Calen's eyes as they roamed the depths of the tunnel, and he seemed to understand his meaning.
"I don't suppose you've ever been captured by the Imperial Inquisition, Draleid?" Falmin nodded when Calen gave a weak shake of his head. "Well, it turns out one of the only things they can't take from you is your sense of humour." Falmin reached his hand down, wrapping his fingers around the bottom of his shirt, lifting the fabric to reveal a twisted mess of scarred and burnt flesh. The man's stomach looked as though it had been flogged with a red-hot poker, then raked a hundred times with a knife. Just the sight of it knotted Calen's stomach. "Besides, there is nothing more important in the darkness than a ray of light." With just a hint of a smile, Falmin pulled himself to his feet, took the waterskin from Calen's hands, and made his way over to Korik and the other surviving dwarf, Lopir.
Calen closed his eyes, resting his head against the cold tunnel wall. There is nothing more important in the darkness than a ray of light. The words brought a calm over him. He wasn't sure why, but they did, and as they did, that calm seeped into Valerys. It was the first time Calen felt the dragon's mind at ease since they had set out through the tunnels. His own mind – though it grew harder and harder to separate the two – melted away as his aching body urged him to sleep. He gave a long, deep yawn, running his hand along Valerys's smooth, scaled neck. If he had learned one thing in the tunnels, it was how to fall asleep in as little time as possible.
Click-clack.
A shiver shot through Calen's back as he lurched forward at the sound. His heart slammed against the walls of his chest, and every hair on his body stood on end. Erik and Tarmon were on their feet. Erik gripped both of his swords so tightly his knuckles were pale. Korik and Lopir stood back-to-back, fear painted on their faces. Even Falmin's usually cool demeanour was broken; he bit his lip and his eyes flitted around the walls of the tunnel. That sound had nearly been the end of them all.
Calen felt Vaeril reach for the Spark as the elf bounded over to him and Valerys. "They might just be passing in the tunnels around us…" he whispered, just loud enough for Calen to hear over the sound of kerathlin claws clicking against the rock. Vaeril's words failed to soothe Valerys's panic and anxiety, which came flooding back like a cascading waterfall.
Click-clack, click-clack.
Calen leapt to his feet. A horrid skin-crawling feeling rippled through him, prickling his skin and setting a tremble into his hands. Fear and panic flooded over from Valerys as the dragon shook his head side to side, high-pitched whines escaping his throat. Images of the kerathlin flitted through Calen's mind. Thousands of the hideous creatures moving in a chitinous wave. Black claws. Crushing mandibles. Blood.
Calen could feel Valerys pushing him towards the Spark, urging him to draw from it as heavily as he could. It was everything Calen could do to hold Valerys's panic at bay. To stop it from consuming him.
"Valerys, it's all right." Calen's voice trembled as he clasped his hands to either side of Valerys's head, staring into the dragon's lavender eyes. "I need you to—" Calen grunted as Valerys's mind pushed harder against his own, clawing at the Spark, reaching for threads of Earth and Air, his desire to kill the kerathlin overriding everything else. "—I need you to stop. We'll bring the whole tunnel down."
"Where's it coming from?" Tarmon whispered, his knees bent, and his sword already drawn.
"All around us," Korik replied, his eyes scanning the tunnel walls.
"There must be thousands of them…" Erik's voice trailed off, swallowed by the drumming clicks of kerathlin claws.
The tension that permeated the air was so palpable everyone seemed to jump out of their skin when Valerys let out a deafening screech. He stamped his feet, smoke streaming from his nostrils, as he flicked his tail back and forth, cracking it against the wall of the tunnel. Fear and panic radiated from the dragon's mind, so powerful it threatened to overwhelm Calen completely.
Calen pulled Valerys's head towards him, pushing his forehead down against the dragon's snout. "It's all right. It's all right." Without thinking, Calen pulled at threads of Spirit. He had seen Vaeril use threads of Spirit to calm horses, but would it work on dragons? He didn't have much choice. He pulled on the thin threads of Spirit, weaving them into Valerys's mind, attempting to soothe the dragon's agitation. It seemed to work. Calen could feel Valerys's heart begin to slow and his breathing start to level off. Around them, the tunnel walls trembled from the vibrations of the kerathlin as they scuttled unseen through the spaces around them.
"What's wrong with him?" Erik's eyes were still fixed on the walls around them as he leapt over to Calen's side.
"It's everything," Calen said, still holding his head against Valerys's snout. "The tunnels, the noise—ahh." Calen clasped his right hand to the side of his head as a sharp pain shot through him. He had lost his concentration and in doing so had released the threads of Spirit he had been weaving through Valerys's mind. The pain was a blinding flash that blocked out all sound and light. His eyes saw nothing but white, and the only thing that he could feel or hear was Valerys. Panic flooded the dragon's mind. Calen could feel every tiny thing Valerys felt. His pain, his fear, his helplessness. Their minds were as one. Images, flashes of thought, streaked through their mind. The fear of never seeing the open world blended with the indomitable clicking of kerathlin claws. It was like the walls were closing in on them, crushing them, squeezing the air from their lungs, breaking off their wings. A single note shrieked through their head, a piercing noise that grew louder and louder until it reached a crescendo. Their panic twisted, melting into a white rage.
"Aaahhh!" Calen's shout was accompanied by a deafening roar from Valerys. Calen felt a shockwave leaving him. A shockwave of Earth and Air that erupted in all directions, rippling through the air, crashing into the rock. Everyone around him was thrown to the ground or slammed against the walls by the force of the wave. The tunnel shook, and cracks spread through the roof, giving way to clouds of stone dust and shards of rock bouncing off the floor. Calen didn't remember reaching out to the Spark, but he felt the threads. Earth and Air. He was wrapped in them, and so was Valerys. The mixture of rough iron and cool ice peeled through his body as the energy of the Spark surged. He felt Valerys's energy as much as he did his own; there was no separation between the two. Larger cracks began to spread through the stone as the threads of Earth and Air intensified. Calen had no control; Valerys kept pushing, drawing deeper and deeper from the Spark.
"Calen!" Calen felt hands on his shoulders and something pushing against his mind. Threads of Spirit. "Calen!" It was Vaeril's voice, faint, but recognisable. "You need to focus. Be strong, reach out with your mind. You need to calm him."
Valerys.
Calen could feel Valerys, his panic and his anger. He wanted to kill the kerathlin. To crush them inside their shells and smell the air as they burned. Valerys, you need to stop. You're going to kill us. There was a flash of recognition from Valerys. I know you're scared, but I'm here. Calen emptied his mind. He focused only on Valerys and the Spark. He let the threads of Air and Earth flow through him, reaching out, drawing in threads of Spirit. Hear me. Please. Draleid n'aldryr, Rakina nai dauva. Dragonbound by fire, Broken by death. Therin hadn't taught him those last few words, he just… knew them, as though they had been buried deep in his mind – or in Valerys's.
Something stirred in Valerys at the words. The blinding flash began to peel away, and the voices of Calen's companions flooded into his ears. His hands were still clasped on either side of Valerys's head, and as his vision slowly returned, he found himself staring directly into the white dragon's pale lavender eyes. Dirt crunched beneath him as he dropped to his knees. Valerys's head pressed down against his neck, a soft whine escaping the dragon's throat.
"I'm here," Calen said with a sigh, his body sagging. "Everything is going to be all right."
Vaeril and Erik were at Calen's side in seconds.
"What in the name of the gods was that?" Erik's eyes were wide with a blend of fear and concern.
"I… I don't know. Valerys was scared, and he…" Calen pulled Valerys's head in tighter, letting the relief sweep through him. He drew in a deep, dust-filled breath, held it, then released it slowly. They had come so close to the entire tunnel collapsing on top of them.
"Well, at least he scared off those fuckin' stone bugs," Falmin called out, hunkered down a few feet away with his hand against the wall of the tunnel. "The noise is gone and the walls ain't shakin' no more."
Calen listened intently. He heard nothing. There was no click-clack of the kerathlin claws or vibrations in the stone. Only silence… and… something else. A sound he picked up while the threads of Air and Spirit still lingered in him. A soft whooshing whistle that flowed through the tunnels. It was familiar, yet odd. Tentatively, Calen reached out with threads of Air, intensifying the sound in his ears. A surge of urgency flared in his mind as he realised what the sound was. "I think I know how to get out of here."