Chapter 24 #2
Lurok's gaze sweeps the walls, the ceiling, searching for something. His eyes narrow as they fix on a point above the tunnel entrance we just came through, on a network of cracks in the stone, a place where the weight of the mountain strains against the tunnel's structural integrity.
"There," he says, his voice suddenly calm amid the chaos. "The stone is weak there. A strong enough blow could bring it down, seal the tunnel behind us."
"Giving us time to escape,” Nirik says, understanding immediately.
Lurok nods, his icy gaze meeting Nirik’s with unexpected intensity. "Take the females. Go. I will hold them here."
I stare at him, comprehension dawning slowly. "You mean to collapse the tunnel while you're in it?"
"Someone must remain to ensure it falls," he says simply. "To keep them busy long enough for the rest of you to get clear."
"I will do it," Nirik interrupts, straightening despite his wound. "You are stronger, Lurok. They will need you if they encounter more resistance ahead."
"No," Lurok's tone brooks no argument. "You cannot fight them off and collapse the tunnel with your injury.”
"There must be another way," I protest as I shoot more fireballs into the tunnel.
Lurok bares his fangs. "There is not, human. Now go, before I reconsider my moment of altruism."
The enemies in the tunnel surge forward, an attack Lurok meets with devastating force. He drives them back, creating momentary space.
"Go!" he roars again, his tail lashing as he braces for the next wave. "Warn Varok of what you have learned and protect the seer. The future of our kind may well rest in her visions. I will join you if I can."
A spear whistles through the air, forcing us to duck. It embeds itself in the wall mere inches from my head, a stark reminder that time has run out.
Nirik grabs my arm, pulling me toward the ascending passage. "We have to move. Now."
I take one last look at Lurok as he positions himself beneath the weakened section of ceiling, gathering his strength for what comes next.
Then we're in the tunnel, climbing as fast as Nirik's wound will allow.
The passage is narrow, forcing us to move single file, me in front, Zara with the torch behind me, and Nirik bringing up the rear.
Behind us, the sounds of combat echo: the clash of metal, the impact of bodies against stone, shouts and hisses of pain.
Lurok's roar rises above it all, primal and defiant.
A distant rumble shakes the tunnel, small fragments of stone dislodging from the ceiling to patter against our shoulders. The vibration grows, intensifying into a thunderous roar that seems to fill the world. The floor beneath our feet trembles, nearly sending us sprawling.
Nirik grabs my arm, steadying me as the tunnel continues to shake. "He did it," he says, a mixture of awe and grief in his voice. "He brought down the ceiling."
The sound swells to a crescendo, punctuated by distant screams that cut off abruptly. Then, gradually, the trembling subsides, leaving only the soft patter of settling dust and the rasp of our labored breathing.
We pause as Nirik leans heavily against the wall, his breathing labored and uneven. In the torch light, I can see fresh blood seeping through the fingers he presses to his side.
"We should rest," I suggest, eyeing his wound with growing concern. "Just for a moment."
Nirik shakes his head, wincing as the movement causes fresh pain. "Not here. Any survivors will find another way around." He pushes himself upright, scales scraping against stone as he struggles to maintain balance.
I glance at Zara. Silent tears for the naga who chose to stay behind carve paths through the dust on her cheeks.
"Do you think he made it?" I whisper to Nirik, already knowing the answer from the grim set of his jaw.
His gaze flickers to Zara before he answers. "That collapse was massive, but if anyone could survive being buried under half a mountain..." He lets the sentence hang, unfinished but hopeful enough for her sake.
The knowledge settles like a stone in my stomach.
Another death, another sacrifice in a conflict I'm only beginning to understand.
If we survive this, if we make it back to Vessan-Kar and to Varok, I will ensure Lurok's choice was not in vain.
Whatever truth lies at the heart of this conspiracy, I will uncover it.
I adjust my hold on Zara’s hand, murmuring words of comfort I don't entirely believe myself.
We press onward, climbing higher through the passage as it broadens around us.
Behind me, stone scrapes against scales and Nirik's body slams sideways into the rough wall, followed by a hissing gasp.
I turn to see his muscular tail quivering beneath him like a dying thing.
"You need to rest," I insist, no longer willing to pretend I don't see his suffering. "Just for a moment. Please."
He meets my gaze, and for the first time, I see fear. "If I stop," he says quietly, "I am not sure I will be able to start again."
The frank admission sends ice through my veins. I look back the way we've come, at the trail of blood droplets marking our path like a morbid guide for anyone following. Nirik has pushed himself far beyond what should be possible, driven by duty and the desperate need to see us to safety.
"Then we'll help you," I say firmly. "Zara and me. We'll get you home."
Before he can protest, Nirik's tail finally gives out. He slumps forward, and I lunge to catch him before he strikes the stone floor. Even with his lower body being serpentine rather than human, he's heavier than I expected, his torso muscular and dense. I stagger under the sudden weight.
Zara darts to his other side, her small frame surprisingly strong as she helps me lower him gently to the ground.
"I am sorry," he whispers, eyes glazed with pain and blood loss. "I thought I could make it farther."
"You've done more than enough," I tell him, examining the wound with growing dismay.
The gash is deep, the edges ragged, and it refuses to stop bleeding despite the pressure Nirik has been applying.
I rip the bottom hem of my tunic, creating two makeshift bandages: one to press against the wound, the other to secure it tightly around his muscled torso.
"We'll rest here until you're stronger."
But even as I say the words, I know we don't have that luxury. The conspirators will find another route, will continue hunting us. And Nirik needs proper healing, not makeshift bandages in a forgotten tunnel.
"We need to keep moving," Zara says, echoing my thoughts. "Together."
I nod, my mind racing through our limited options. "Can you help me get him up? We'll support him between us."
She leaves the torch and moves to Nirik's uninjured side while I position myself at his wounded one, careful not to jostle the makeshift bandage.
With coordinated effort, we manage to lift him, draping his arms across our shoulders.
The difference in our heights makes the arrangement awkward.
Nirik must hunch to avoid putting too much weight on Zara—but it's functional enough to allow movement.
"Just one step or slither at a time," I encourage as we begin our painfully slow progress. "We can make it."
Nirik does his best to assist, his tail providing some propulsion, but it's clear he's operating on willpower alone.
His head droops forward, his breathing shallow and rapid.
Beside me, Zara's small face is set in determined lines, her eyes fixed on the path ahead as she bears a share of the burden that should be impossible for one so young.
We continue this way for what feels like hours. Step by grueling step, pausing occasionally when Nirik's consciousness wavers or when my arms threaten to give out. The tunnel continues its gradual ascent.
Doubt creeps in with each painful foot gained. We're moving too slowly. Nirik is failing rapidly. My arms and legs burn with fatigue, and Zara, though uncomplaining, shows signs of exhaustion in the droop of her shoulders, the drag of her tail.
We pause at another junction, this one offering three choices, each as unmarked and uninviting as the last. A wave of despair washes over me. We're lost, truly lost without Lurok to guide us.
"Which way?" I ask, though I expect no answer. Nirik's eyes are closed, his weight resting almost entirely on our shoulders.
Zara lifts her head, seeming to listen to something I cannot hear. "I don't know," she finally admits, her voice small in the echoing darkness.
I adjust my grip on Nirik, fighting the treacherous voice inside that whispers of surrender. We've come too far to give up now. Lurok's sacrifice deserves better than our defeat.
"We'll try the right," I decide, simply because we have to choose something, have to keep moving forward.
As we shift our direction, something changes. A sensation so subtle I almost miss it. A tiny pulse of warmth against my throat where Emberyn lies. I freeze, hardly daring to believe it.
There—again. A second pulse, stronger than the first. The serpent stone warms fractionally against my skin.
"Emberyn," I whisper, my free hand rising to touch the medallion. "It's warming."
Zara's eyes widen, hope dawning across her tired features. "Ry'Varok," she breathes. "He is near."
The serpent stone pulses again, more insistent now. After so long lying cool and lifeless against my skin, the sudden warmth feels like a miracle, a beacon in the darkness that has surrounded us.
With renewed purpose, we struggle forward, Nirik a limp weight between us but no longer seeming insurmountable. Emberyn continues to warm, each pulse stronger than the last, confirming we're moving in the right direction, and I swear I can almost hear his voice calling my name through the stone.