Naryn didn't respond immediately, his eyes narrowing as he weighed her words. The man with Marsha's bracelet laughed boisterously with his companions, completely unaware of the fury directed his way.
"A trap takes time," Naryn said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "And a time we don't have."
"Better than rushing in and getting skewered," the woman countered. She leaned closer, her tone conspiratorial. "These guys aren't expecting trouble. If we're smart, we can pick them off without a fight."
Marsha clung tightly to Naryn's side, her small hand trembling in his. "Naryn... please be careful," she whispered, her voice cracking.
He glanced down at her, his expression softening for a brief moment. "I will. Stay close and don't make a sound."
Turning back to the woman, Naryn motioned for her to continue. "What's your plan ?"
The woman scanned the square, her eyes analyzing every detail. She pointed to a cluster of abandoned stalls near the edge of the clearing. "We can use those for cover. Create a distraction to separate them, then pick off the stragglers."
Naryn's gaze followed her gesture, his mind already forming the pieces of the puzzle. "What kind of distraction are you thinking ?"
"Something loud, flashy. Enough to make them think they're under attack." She smirked, pulling a small vial from her pocket. Inside was a swirling, viscous liquid that shimmered faintly. "Lucky for you, I always come prepared."
"What is that ?" Naryn asked, suspicious.
"Homemade firestarter," she replied, holding it up. "You toss it, it burns hot and fast. Just make sure you're not too close."
Naryn nodded grimly. "Fine. You set it off. I'll take out the man with the bracelet."
"And what about the rest of them ?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I'll handle it myself," Naryn said coldly.
She opened her mouth to argue but stopped, something in his tone silencing her. Instead, she nodded and began to move, sticking to the shadows.
Naryn crouched low behind a crumbling wall, his crossbow loaded and ready. Marsha crouched beside him, her wide eyes darting nervously between him and the square.
The woman reached the abandoned stalls, her movements silent and precise. She crouched behind one, uncorked the vial, and threw it with a swift motion. The glass shattered against a wooden beam near the edge of the square, and the liquid ignited instantly with a loud whoosh. Flames erupted, casting flickering light across the square and sending the Zmij's men into chaos.
"What the hell ?!" one of them shouted, drawing a sword as they scrambled away from the sudden blaze.
Naryn didn't waste the moment of confusion. He darted forward, sticking to the shadows as he closed in on the tall man with the bracelet. The man had turned toward the fire, his back to Naryn, giving him the opening he needed.
Naryn's blade gleamed in the firelight as he struck. The dagger pierced the man's side, slipping between his ribs with brutal precision. The man gasped, the sound wet and guttural, before crumpling to the ground.
In the chaos, none of the others noticed until it was too late. Naryn yanked the bracelet from the dying man's hand, his expression devoid of mercy.
The woman reappeared beside him, her dagger drawn. "Nice work," she muttered, glancing at the others as they began to regroup, their confusion giving way to anger.
"Not done yet," Naryn said, his voice icy. He handed the bracelet to Marsha, who clutched it to her chest with a tearful smile.
"We've got what we came for," the woman hissed. "Now let's get out of here before they—"
A shout rang out, and several of the men turned toward them, their weapons drawn.
"Too late," Naryn muttered, raising his crossbow. "Stay behind me."
The woman smirked, twirling her dagger. "Guess we're doing this the hard way."
The first attacker lunged toward Naryn, his blade gleaming in the firelight. Naryn fired his crossbow with precision, the bolt sinking deep into the man's chest. He staggered, choking in his own blood, before collapsing with a heavy thud.
"Keep moving !" Naryn barked over his shoulder, pulling Marsha along as the woman darted ahead, her dagger flashing as she struck down a second attacker. She moved like a viper, her strikes quick and deadly. Blood sprayed across the ground as her blade hit him.
The remaining men closed in, their faces twisted in rage. One swung a mace at Naryn, who ducked low and drove his dagger into the man's thigh. The attacker howled in pain, but before he could recover, Naryn yanked the blade free and slashed across his throat. A torrent of blood spilled out as the man gurgled and fell.
Marsha huddled behind the nearest cover, clutching the bracelet tightly to her chest. Her wide, tear-filled eyes darted between Naryn and the chaos, her small frame trembling.
"Marsha, stay down !" Naryn shouted, his voice sharp but protective.
A sword arced toward him from the side, and he barely managed to deflect it with his dagger. The force of the blow sent him stumbling, but before his attacker could press the advantage, the woman appeared, burying her blade into the man's spine. He screamed, a short, sharp sound, before crumpling to the ground.
"You're welcome !" she quipped, her smirk wicked as she pulled her bloodied dagger free.
Naryn didn't respond, his focus shifting to the two remaining men. One carried a long spear, the other a pair of jagged knives. They moved cautiously now, their confidence shaken by the bloody display.
"You're just kids," the one with the spear spat, though there was fear in his voice. "How the hell—"
Naryn didn't let him finish. He dashed forward, his movements swift and calculated. The spear man thrust his weapon, but Naryn sidestepped, slashing the shaft with his dagger. The blade didn't break the wood completely, but it splintered enough to make the weapon unwieldy.
As the spear man stumbled, the woman intercepted the knife-wielding man, engaging him in a brutal, close-quarters duel. Sparks flew as their blades clashed, the sound sharp and jarring.
Naryn delivered a quick, decisive blow to the spear man, plunging his dagger into the man's chest. The attacker gasped, his weapon slipping from his hands as he crumpled to the ground.
The last man fought fiercely, his knives a blur of motion as he slashed at the woman. She twisted and dodged, her movements almost playful despite the danger. Finally, she found an opening, her dagger slipping past his defenses and slicing deep into his throat. His eyes widened in shock as blood poured from the wound, and he dropped to his knees before falling face-first into the dirt.
The alley fell silent, save for the crackling of the distant flames and the labored breathing of the survivors. Naryn wiped his dagger clean on a fallen man's cloak, his expression cold and unreadable.
Marsha hesitantly emerged from her hiding spot, her small frame trembling as she looked at the carnage. "N-Naryn... is it over ?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"For now," Naryn replied, crouching to meet her gaze. He placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch firm but comforting. "You're safe."
The woman sheathed her dagger, surveying the blood-soaked scene with a grim smile. "Not bad, kid. Not bad at all."
"Don't get used to it," Naryn muttered, pulling Marsha closer. "We need to keep moving."
The woman shrugged. "Fine by me. But next time? Maybe try not to start a war over a bracelet."
Naryn shot her a glare but said nothing, his grip on Marsha tightening as they slipped back into the shadows, leaving the bodies behind.
As they moved through the labyrinth of Block 5, the oppressive air of the Dodens Omrade grew heavier. The shadows seemed to stretch unnaturally long, the faint sounds of distant scuttling and guttural growls keeping them on edge. Marsha clung to Naryn's arm, her small fingers gripping tightly as though afraid he might disappear.
The woman led the way, her movements confident despite the treacherous terrain. She didn't speak, but her occasional glances back at Naryn and Marsha carried an unspoken warning: stay alert, or die.
Eventually, they reached an abandoned building with boarded-up windows and a half-collapsed roof. The woman slipped inside without a word, gesturing for them to follow. Naryn hesitated, his grip on his dagger tightening.
"Relax," she whispered, her voice carrying a hint of exasperation. "It's a safe house. Or as close to safe as you'll get here."
Naryn exchanged a glance with Marsha before stepping inside. The interior was dim, the air stale and thick with dust. Crates and broken furniture were scattered across the room, and a faint smell of mildew lingered.
The woman crouched near a small fire pit in the center of the room, striking a flint to ignite the dry wood and kindling within. A dim flame flickered to life, casting eerie shadows across the walls.
"Not exactly homey," she admitted, sitting back on her heels, "But it'll do."
Naryn guided Marsha to sit on one of the crates before turning to the woman. "Your true identity ?" he demanded, his voice low.
She glanced up at him, her expression unreadable. "I already told you. I'm just someone trying to survive, same as you."
"Not good enough, again" Naryn growled, his eyes narrowing. "You've been tracking me, helping me if you're not working for the Zmij, then what's your real purpose ?"
The woman let out a short, humorless laugh. "You're awfully paranoid for someone so young."
"And you're awfully evasive for someone claiming to be on my side."
Her smirk faded, and for a moment, something close to genuine emotion flickered across her face weariness, perhaps, or regret. She leaned back against the wall, crossing her arms. "Fine. You want the truth ? I used to work for them. The Zmij."
Naryn's hand moved to his dagger instantly, his body tense.
"Relax," she said quickly, holding up her hands. "I'm not with them anymore."
"Why ?" he asked, his tone icy. "Why should I believe you ?"
"Because if I wanted you dead, you'd already be," she snapped, her voice suddenly fierce. "Do you have any idea what they'd do to me if they knew I was helping you? They don't forgive traitors. Hell, they don't forgive anyone."
Naryn didn't lower his guard. "Then why betray them ?"
She hesitated, her gaze dropping to the fire. "Let's just say I found out the hard way that working for the Zmij means selling your soul. And I wasn't willing to pay the full price."
Her words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken pain. Naryn studied her for a long moment before finally stepping back, though his posture remained guarded.
"You'd better be telling the truth," he warned. "Because if I find out you're lying—"
"You'll kill me," she interrupted with a bitter smile. "Yeah, I got it. You're not the first to threaten me, kid."
Naryn turned away, sitting down beside Marsha. She leaned against him, her small body trembling slightly. He wrapped an arm around her, his expression softening as he whispered, "We'll get through this."
The woman watched them from her spot by the fire, her eyes narrowing slightly. "For what it's worth," she said after a long silence, "I don't care about your past. But if you're planning to take on the Zmij, you'd better be ready to spill a lot more blood."
Naryn didn't respond, his gaze fixed on the flickering flames. In the back of his mind, one thought loomed above all others: he couldn't stop now. Not with Marsha's safety on the line.
The fire crackled softly in the hollow silence of the safe house, shadows dancing across the walls. Naryn stayed by Marsha's side, her breathing steadier now as she drifted into a light, uneasy sleep. He brushed her hair back gently, his red eyes glinting in the dim light.
The woman leaned against the wall, watching them. "You care about her a lot," she murmured, her tone softer than before.
"She's all I have, left" Naryn replied without looking up. His voice was quiet, but the weight behind his words was unmistakable.
The woman tilted her head, curiosity flickering in her expression. "And yet you're dragging her through this place. Why not leave her somewhere safe ?"
Naryn's jaw tightened, his gaze hardening as he finally looked at her. "Because nowhere is safe. Not here, not in Latgna, not anywhere."
She studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Fair enough. But if you want to keep her alive, you're going to need a plan. And right now, you're flying blind."
Naryn's hand tightened on the hilt of his dagger. "I have a plan. I always do."
"Oh ?" she asked, a wry smile on her lips. "Let me guess: storm the Zmij, kill anyone who gets in your way, and hope for the best ?"
Naryn's glare was sharp, but she held her ground.
"That's what I thought," she said. "Look, kid. I don't know what your deal is, but if you're serious about taking them on, you need more than guts and a sharp blade. You need intel. You need allies."
"I don't trust anyone," Naryn said flatly.
"And how's that working out for you so far ?" she shot back.
Before he could respond, a sudden noise outside the safe house made them both freeze. A faint shuffling, barely audible but unmistakable, sent a jolt of adrenaline through Naryn. He was on his feet in an instant, his crossbow already loaded and aimed at the door.
The woman rose more slowly, her hand resting on the hilt of her own weapon. "Shadelings don't knock," she whispered.
Naryn nodded, his grip steady despite the pounding in his chest. He motioned for her to stay back, then approached the door silently, every step deliberate.
The noise came again a scraping sound, followed by a low, guttural growl.
Marsha stirred behind him, her eyes fluttering open. "Naryn..?" she murmured, her voice thick with sleep and fear.
"Stay quiet," he whispered, not looking back.
The woman moved to cover the rear of the room, her expression grim. "If it's Zmij's men, they're not here to talk," she muttered.
Naryn's breath slowed as he pressed his ear to the door. Whatever was outside, it wasn't alone. He could hear multiple sets of uneven footsteps, accompanied by a sound that made his skin crawl a wet, slithering noise, like something being dragged.
"Shadelings," the woman hissed, her face paling.
"They followed us," Naryn said through gritted teeth.
"No," she replied, her voice low and urgent. "They were already here. Block 5 is their hunting ground. And now, so are we."
A sudden crash against the door made Marsha gasp, her hands flying to her mouth to stifle the sound. Naryn raised his crossbow, his mind racing.
"An idea ?" he asked the woman without turning.
"Run," she said, her voice deadly serious. "We can't fight them. Not all of them."
Naryn's gaze flicked to Marsha, then back to the door as another crash rattled the frame. He didn't have a choice.
"Back exit ?" he asked.
She nodded. "Through the kitchen. But we'll have to move fast."
"Then let's move," Naryn said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
The woman grabbed a small satchel from the corner, slinging it over her shoulder. "Stay close," she said. "And whatever you do, don't stop."
The narrow alleyways of Block 5 were a labyrinth of shadows, and every corner seemed alive with unseen threats. Naryn's heart pounded in his chest as he gripped Marsha's hand tightly, pulling her along. Her small, hurried footsteps were nearly drowned out by the cacophony of shrieks and guttural growls echoing behind them.
"Keep moving !" the woman hissed, her voice sharp as she darted ahead, scouting the path.
Naryn look over his shoulder, his blood running cold. The Shadelings were fast, their twisted forms skittering and leaping across the walls like predators on the hunt. Their glowing eyes cut through the darkness, a stark reminder of the danger closing in.
"Marsha, stay close !" he urged, his voice steadier than he felt.
"I'm trying !" she panted, her voice trembling.
The woman suddenly stopped at a junction, her hand shooting up to signal them to halt. "Dead end to the left," she muttered, scanning the other paths. "Straight ahead, there's a stairwell. Might lead us up to the rooftops."
"Do you know it leads there ?" Naryn demanded, his crossbow trained on the approaching shadows.
"No," she admitted, her tone tense. "But I know we can't stay here."
A Shadeling darted into view, its malformed body a grotesque patchwork of sinew and bone. Naryn didn't hesitate; his bolt flew true, striking the creature through its hollow eye socket. It let out a guttural screech before collapsing into a convulsing heap.
"Move !" Naryn barked, reloading as he pushed Marsha forward.
They raced up the narrow stairwell, the woman leading with sure-footed speed. The Shadelings followed, their claws scraping against the crumbling stone walls as they ascended in pursuit.
"Faster !" the woman yelled, her voice echoing in the confined space.
The stairwell opened onto a rooftop littered with debris. The city stretched out before them, a maze of decrepit buildings and flickering torchlight. The air was colder up here, carrying the faint stench of decay.
"Over there !" the woman pointed to a gap between rooftops. "We can jump it!"
"You've got to be kidding me," Naryn growled, glancing at Marsha. Her face was pale, her breaths coming in short gasps.
"I can do it," she said, though her voice wavered.
"No choice," Naryn muttered, gripping her arm as they approached the edge.
The woman leaped first, her form silhouetted against the dim light as she landed with a practiced roll on the other side. She turned back, waving them on.
"Come on !" she called, urgency lacing her voice.
Naryn hesitated only for a moment before lifting Marsha. "I'll toss you across. She'll catch you."
Marsha's eyes widened, but she nodded, trusting him implicitly.
"Ready ?" he asked.
"Ready," she whispered.
With a grunt, Naryn swung her forward. The woman caught her mid-air, stumbling slightly but keeping her balance.
"Got her !" she shouted.
Naryn didn't waste a second. He backed up, took a running start, and leaped. His boots hit the edge of the opposite rooftop, and he rolled to his feet in one fluid motion.
The Shadelings weren't far behind. One vaulted out of the stairwell, its claws scraping against the edge of the rooftop. It hissed, pulling itself up.
Naryn raised his crossbow, but the woman was faster. She hurled a knife that embedded itself deep in the creature's throat. It gurgled, clawing at the blade before tumbling back into the void.
"Keep moving !" she yelled, already sprinting toward another gap.
The pursuit continued, the trio leaping from rooftop to rooftop with the Shadelings in relentless pursuit. Each landing sent shocks up Naryn's legs, but he forced himself to push forward.
Marsha stumbled, her foot catching on a piece of loose tile. Naryn was at her side in an instant, lifting her back to her feet.
"I've got you," he said firmly, his voice a lifeline in the chaos.
They reached the edge of the rooftops, the final building giving way to a sheer drop into the darkness below.
"Now what ?" Naryn asked, his voice sharp.
The woman scanned their surroundings, her breathing ragged. "There's a drainage pipe," she said, pointing to the side of the building. "We climb down."
"Are you insane ?"
"You got a better idea ?" she snapped.
Another Shadeling lunged onto the rooftop behind them, its inhuman screech piercing the night.
"Fine," Naryn growled. "Marsha, you first. I'll cover you."
Marsha hesitated, her eyes darting between the pipe and the advancing creatures. "Go !" Naryn urged, his voice leaving no room for argument.
With trembling hands, she gripped the pipe and began her descent.
Naryn turned back to the Shadelings, his crossbow loaded and ready. "Come on," he muttered, his lips curling into a snarl. "Let's see how many of you I can take down."
The first Shadeling lunged toward Naryn, his grotesque limbs stretched unnaturally long as it propelled itself forward. His crossbow bolt struck true, piercing its chest. The creature shrieked, its body convulse before collapsing onto the rooftop in a heap. Another darted from the shadows, faster than the first. Naryn rolled to the side, avoiding its swipe as his hand darted for another bolt.
"Don't be a hero, kid !" the woman barked from the pipe, already halfway down.
Naryn ignored her, his focus sharp. He loaded the crossbow in a single fluid motion and fired, the bolt catching the second Shadeling in its neck. It staggered, clawing at the projectile before crumpling to the ground.
Behind him, Marsha was nearly at the bottom, her small form silhouetted against the faint glow of a torch on the street below. Relief surged through Naryn but only for a moment. More Shadelings spilled onto the rooftop, their glowing eyes locking onto him.
"Time to go !" the woman shouted, urgency cutting through her usual sarcasm.
Naryn backed toward the pipe, his crossbow reloaded but shaking slightly in his grip. He fired again, the bolt grazing one of the creatures. It let out an enraged shriek, clawing at the air as it charged.
With no time to reload, Naryn dropped the crossbow and drew his dague. The first Shadeling reached him, its claws slashing at his chest. He deflected with a sharp twist of his dague, the blade slicing clean through its wrist. The creature wailed, black ichor spraying across the rooftop.
"Naryn, now !" the woman yelled again, her voice frantic.
He risked a glance behind him. Marsha was safely on the ground, her face upturned and eyes wide with fear. The woman stood beside her, beckoning him furiously.
Naryn slashed at another Shadeling, driving it back just long enough to reach the pipe. Sheathing his dague, he grabbed hold and began his descent.
The Shadelings were relentless. Above him, claws scraped against the rooftop as the creatures skittered toward the edge. One leaned over, its jagged teeth snapping inches from Naryn's head. He kicked out instinctively, his boot catching it in the jaw and sending it plummeting into the abyss.
"Almost there !" the woman called out, her dagger at the ready as she stood guard below.
Naryn's boots hit the ground just as another Shadeling launched itself from the rooftop. The woman reacted instantly, her knife flashing as it embedded itself in the creature's chest. It shrieked, clawing wildly before crumpling lifelessly at her feet.
Naryn grabbed Marsha, pulling her close. "Are you hurt ?" he asked, scanning her quickly.
She shook her head, though her face was pale and her breaths came in gasps. "I'm okay," she whispered, clutching his sleeve tightly.
"We need to keep moving," the woman interrupted them, wiping her blade on the tattered remnants of her cloak. "They'll follow us down."
Naryn nodded, his jaw tight. "Which way ?"
The woman hesitated, her eyes scanning the narrow, debris-laden street. Then she pointed to a crumbling archway half-hidden by shadows. "There. It'll take us to the old sewers."
"The sewers ?" Naryn frowned. "That's your plan ?"
"Unless you want to stick around for round two ?" she snapped, already moving toward the archway.
Marsha tugged on Naryn's hand. "I don't want to go back up there," she whispered, her voice trembling.
"We won't," Naryn promised, his voice steady. He glanced at the woman, then nodded. "Let's go."
The archway led to a narrow tunnel, its damp walls covered in moss and grime. The air was thick and suffocating, carrying the stench of decay. Marsha pressed close to Naryn as they navigated the dark passage, her small fingers gripping his tightly.
The woman led the way, her steps sure despite the uneven ground. "Stay quiet," she whispered. "The Shadelings aren't the only things down here."
"What else is there ?" Naryn asked, his voice low.
She glanced back at him, her expression unreadable. "You don't want to know."
Behind them, the distant screeches of the Shadelings faded into silence, replaced by the slow drip of water echoing through the tunnel. But the sense of danger didn't lessen. If anything, the oppressive darkness seemed to press closer, the unseen threats around them more ominous than the ones they had left behind.
Marsha shivered, and Naryn tightened his hold on her hand. "We'll get through this," he said quietly.
The woman snorted softly but said nothing, her eyes scanning the shadows ahead. The silence stretched on, heavy and unnerving.
And then, from the depths of the tunnel, came the faintest sound a low, guttural growl that sent a chill racing down Naryn's spine.
The woman froze, her hand flying to her dagger. "Stay close," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "We're not alone."
The growl grew louder, through the damp tunnel like a predator announcing its claim. Naryn's grip tightened on Marsha's hand, pulling her close as his free hand reached for his dague. He exchanged a brief glance with the woman; her eyes reflected the same tense anticipation, though her posture remained calm, dagger poised for a fight.
"What is it this time ?" Naryn muttered, his voice low.
"Not Shadelings," she replied, her tone grim. "Something bigger."
From the darkness ahead, a faint, rhythmic thud echoed a heavy, deliberate sound that resonated through the ground. Marsha whimpered, her small fingers clutching Naryn's sleeve tightly.
"I don't like this," she whispered, her voice trembling.
"Stay behind me," Naryn instructed, positioning himself in front of her. His eyes scanned the shadows ahead, seeking any sign of movement.
The woman crept forward cautiously, her dagger glinting faintly in the dim light filtering through cracks in the tunnel walls. She crouched low, her steps silent as she peered around a jagged corner.
She recoiled sharply, backing toward them. "Oh, hell," she muttered, her face pale. "We've got a problem."
"What kind of problem ?" Naryn asked.
Her answer came in the form of a hulking silhouette emerging from the darkness. The creature was massive, its grotesque form a patchwork of sinewy muscle and jagged bone. Its head scraped the tunnel's ceiling, and its eyes glowed faintly two pinpricks of pale green light that radiated hunger. In one clawed hand, it dragged the shattered remains of a metal grate, the sound sending shivers down Naryn's spine.
The beast let out a low growl, its breath clouding the air like smoke.
"A Tunnel Warden," the woman said through gritted teeth, her knuckles white around her dagger. "They guard the old sewers. And they don't like company."
"It's not just standing there for a chat," Naryn replied, his voice sharp as the creature began to advance, each step deliberate and menacing.
"Got any bright ideas, hero ?" the woman snapped, her eyes darting around the tunnel for an escape route.
Naryn gritted his teeth, his mind racing. The creature's sheer size made fighting it in the narrow tunnel a death sentence. "Can it be killed ?"
"Sure," she said dryly, taking a step back. "If you've got explosives. Otherwise, good luck."
The Tunnel Warden roared, the sound deafening in the confined space. It charged, its heavy footsteps shaking the ground.
"Run !" Naryn shouted, grabbing Marsha and pulling her along as they bolted down a side passage.
The woman followed close behind, her dagger ready, though she kept glancing over her shoulder. The Warden was fast, its massive form barely slowing as it forced its way through the narrow tunnel. Stone and debris rained down as its claws raked the walls.
"This way !" the woman yelled, pointing toward a narrow crack in the wall just ahead. "Hes too big to follow us !"
Naryn didn't hesitate. He shoved Marsha toward the opening. "Go !"
She scrambled through the gap, her small form disappearing into the darkness beyond. Naryn followed, squeezing through just as the Warden's claws swiped at his back, the air hissing as they narrowly missed.
The woman was the last to dive through, rolling to her feet on the other side as the Warden's bulk slammed against the opening. The creature roared in frustration, its claws scraping uselessly against the edges of the crack.
For a moment, the group stood in stunned silence, their breaths ragged. The Warden's growls echoed faintly as it paced on the other side, unable to reach them.
"That was close," the woman muttered, wiping sweat from her brow. "Too close."
Naryn knelt beside Marsha, his hands on her shoulders. "Are you okay ?"
She nodded shakily, though her eyes was wide with fear. "I'm okay."
The woman leaned against the wall, catching her breath. "Well, congratulations," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You survived your first run-in with a Tunnel Warden. Welcome to Block 5."
Naryn ignored her, his focus on Marsha. "Stay close," he said softly. "We'll get through this."
The woman rolled her eyes but didn't argue. Instead, she gestured toward the dim passage ahead. "Come on. This tunnel leads to an old storage area. It should be safer for now."
As they moved deeper into the dark, Naryn couldn't shake the feeling that their troubles were far from over.
The storage area was a cavernous space, damp and cold, with the faint smell of mildew clinging to the air. Broken crates and rusted tools littered the floor, remnants of a time when the area might have served a purpose other than sheltering fugitives.
The faint glow of phosphorescent fungi dotted the walls, casting an eerie greenish hue over the group as they stepped inside. Marsha clung to Naryn's side, her small frame shivering despite his best efforts to shield her from the cold.
"Stay here," the woman ordered, her voice low but firm as she scanned the area. "I'll check for other exits."
Naryn nodded, pulling Marsha down onto a relatively dry patch of floor. "Are you hurt ?" he asked, his voice soft but urgent.
Marsha shook her head, though her trembling didn't stop. "No, just...tired."
"We'll rest for a moment," he assured her, though his ears were attuned to every sound in the shadows around them. The faint scrape of the woman's boots echoed softly as she moved deeper into the room.
After a moment, she returned, her expression grim. "No other way out. If that thing finds us, we're cornered."
"Great," Naryn muttered. "What about a way to block the entrance ?"
The woman gestured around them. "Unless you can turn a pile of rotting wood into a barricade strong enough to hold back a Tunnel Warden, we're out of luck."
Marsha's voice broke through the tension. "What if it can't find us ?"
Both adults turned to her, confusion etched on their faces.
"What do you mean ?" Naryn asked.
"I mean..." Marsha hesitated, glancing toward the glowing fungi. "If we make it think we're not here...maybe it'll go away."
Naryn frowned, but the woman tilted her head, considering. "She's got a point. Those things aren't smart; they hunt by scent and sound. If we can us both..."
"And how do you propose we do that ?" Naryn interrupted, his tone sharp.
The woman smirked, her confidence returning. "I have an idea. But you're not going to like it."
Minutes later, Naryn crouched near the entrance, his crossbow at the ready. Beside him, the woman was smearing a smelling mixture of mud and crushed fungi onto the walls near the entrance. The stench was overwhelming, a pungent combination of rot and decay.
"Are you sure this will work ?" he hissed, his patience wearing thin.
"Nope," she replied cheerfully, not pausing her work. "But it's better than sitting here waiting to die."
Marsha sat quietly nearby, her small hands clutching her knees as she watched the two of them work. Despite her fear, there was a determined glint in her eyes.
The growls of the Tunnel Warden echoed faintly from the corridor, growing louder with each passing second. Naryn tensed, his eyes fixed on the entrance.
The woman finished her work and crouched beside him, wiping her hands on her already-filthy pants. "All right," she whispered. "Now we wait."
The growling grew closer, accompanied by the heavy thud of the creature's footsteps. The walls seemed to vibrate with each step, the oppressive weight of the Warden's presence closing in.
Marsha's breathing quickened, and Naryn placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. "Stay calm," he murmured. "It's going to be okay."
The Tunnel Warden's massive form appeared in the doorway, its glowing eyes scanning the room. It sniffed the air, its movements slow and deliberate. The creature's claws scraped against the stone floor, the sound grating and nerve-wracking.
Naryn held his breath, his finger hovering over the crossbow's trigger. Beside him, the woman remained perfectly still, her dagger ready but held low.
The Warden growled again, its nostrils flaring as it took another step forward. For a moment, it seemed as though the creature would charge but then it paused, its head tilting as if confused.
The stench of the fungi-filled mixture seemed to disorient it. With a frustrated snarl, the Warden turned and lumbered back into the tunnel, its growls fading into the distance.
Naryn exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing for the first time in hours. "It worked," he muttered, disbelief coloring his tone.
The woman grinned, leaning back against the wall. "Told you I had a plan."
Marsha let out a shaky laugh, relief washing over her face. "We're okay ?"
"For now," Naryn said, though his gaze lingered on the tunnel. "But we need to move. This place isn't safe."
The woman nodded, her expression serious once more. "Agreed. Let's not wait around for the next thing to find us."
Together, they gathered their belongings and prepared to leave, the memory of the Warden's roar still echoing in their minds.
The trio moved cautiously through the damp corridors, the faint echoes of the Tunnel Warden's retreating growls still fresh in their ears. Every shadow seemed alive, every distant sound was a potential threat. Marsha clung to Naryn's arm, her small frame trembling against him. He kept her close, his crossbow in hand, his eyes scanning every corner.
The woman led the way, her movements sharp and deliberate. She paused at an intersection, glancing back. "We're heading deeper into the district. It's the only way out unless you want to face that thing again."
Naryn frowned but nodded. "We'll follow. But I swear, if this is another trap"
"It's not," she interrupted, her tone clipped. "If it were, I wouldn't still be here. Now, can we focus on not dying ?"
He didn't respond, but his glare softened slightly as they resumed their march. The air grew colder, the walls narrowing as the corridor dipped downward. The phosphorescent glow of fungi illuminated strange carvings etched into the stone, symbols that seemed too precise to be random.
Marsha tugged on Naryn's sleeve, her voice a whisper. "Naryn... what are those ?"
He followed her gaze, his eyes narrowing at the carvings. "I don't know. Stay close."
The woman stopped abruptly, holding up a hand for silence. She knelt, running her fingers over a set of faint scratches on the ground. Her expression darkened. "We're not alone."
Naryn tensed, raising his crossbow. "Shadelings ?"
"No," she said quietly, her voice grim. "This is something else."
Marsha's grip on Naryn's arm tightened, her wide eyes darting around the corridor. "What do you mean ?"
The woman stood, her hand resting on the hilt of her knife. "Tracks. Not fresh, but recent enough. Whoever or whatever made them knows these tunnels better than we do."
"Fantastic," Naryn muttered under his breath. "Any more good news ?"
Before she could respond, a distant sound reached them a low, rhythmic drumming, faint but growing louder. The woman's eyes widened, and she grabbed Naryn's arm, pulling him back.
"Run," she hissed. "Now!"
"What is it ?" he demanded, but she didn't answer. Her urgency was enough. He scooped Marsha into his arms and sprinted after her, the sound of the drumming growing louder, accompanied by the faint echo of guttural chanting.
The corridor opened into a vast chamber, the ceiling lost in darkness. In the center, a makeshift altar stood surrounded by crude totems and piles of bones. The air was thick with the stench of decay and something else something ancient and foul.
"This way !" the woman called, pointing toward a narrow passage on the far side of the chamber.
As they ran, the chanting grew clearer, a guttural, otherworldly language that made Naryn's skin crawl. Shadows flickered along the walls, cast by unseen torches. The drumming was close now, pounding like a heartbeat in his ears.
They reached the passage just as the first figure emerged from the darkness behind them. Tall and emaciated, its skin stretched tight over angular bones, the creature moved with a jerking, unnatural gait. Its hollow eyes glowed faintly, and its mouth twisted into a grotesque grin.
"Keep moving !" the woman shouted, her knife flashing as she slashed at another figure that lunged toward her. Naryn fired his crossbow, the bolt striking true and dropping the creature with a sickening thud.
The passage narrowed further, forcing them to move single file. The creatures pursued relentlessly, their guttural cries echoing in the confined space. Marsha clung to Naryn, her face buried in his shoulder as he pushed forward.
The passage suddenly ended in a sheer drop. The woman cursed, skidding to a halt. Below, a dark river rushed through a jagged chasm, its surface churning violently.
"Jump or die," she said, her tone leaving no room for debate.
Naryn hesitated, his grip on Marsha tightening. "It's too far—"
"I'll catch her," the woman said, already climbing down a ledge to get closer to the river. "Trust me, or we're all dead."
Naryn's jaw clenched, but he nodded. "Hold on, Marsha," he whispered.
With a deep breath, he leaped, holding Marsha tightly as they plunged into the icy water below. The current dragged them under, the roar of the river drowning out the sounds of their pursuers.
When they surfaced, gasping for air, the woman was already swimming toward them, her movements strong and purposeful. "This way !" she shouted, pointing toward the far bank.
They struggled against the current, their bodies battered by the icy water and jagged rocks. Finally, they reached the shore, collapsing onto the slick, moss-covered ground.
The woman sat up first, her knife still in hand as she scanned their surroundings. "We're not safe yet," she said, her voice hoarse. "But I think we lost them... for now."
Naryn nodded, coughing as he pulled Marsha close. "We keep moving," he said, his voice hard despite his exhaustion. "No stopping."
The woman smirked, though it didn't reach her eyes. "You're relentless, I'll give you that."
Naryn didn't respond. His focus was on Marsha, her small frame trembling against him. Whatever lay ahead, he knew he couldn't stop not until she was safe.