Chapter 17
“Every terrible decision in history probably started with someone saying, ‘We should go deeper underground.’” ~Kara
The tunnels beneath the mountain were older than the rest of the Troll Realm. Kara realized it almost immediately.
The upper caverns where the trolls lived felt carved and lived in, shaped by generations of hands and voices and lives layered on top of one another over centuries. These tunnels did not. These felt discovered.
The walls narrowed as the group descended behind the Troll King and Verna, the glowing mineral veins slowly thinning until the only remaining light came from massive crystal lanterns carried by the troll warriors surrounding them.
Shadows stretched long and uneven across the stone floor, swallowing entire sections of the corridor before reappearing again farther ahead.
Kara hated it instantly.
Not because it was ugly. Because it felt too alive. Probably a weird thing to hate, but shadows shouldn’t feel alive. They were like ghosts leading them. “To our deaths,” she thought morbidly.
“What happened to thinking happy things, like darkness loses and light wins?” Nick asked her through the bond.
“It died when the shadow ghosts started leading this expedition.”
She felt his humor. “Shadow ghosts aren’t a thing.”
“They are now. Just wait. There will be a reality show about them.”
“What will it be called?”
“Shadow Ghost Hunters, duh.” Was it an original title, no, but as Jen probably would have done, Kara blamed it on the baby hormones. And possibly the lack of oxygen as they went lower and lower into the earth.
The mountain pulsed beneath her feet every few minutes now, the vibrations subtle but constant, like something enormous shifting in its sleep far below them.
Nick stayed so close beside her that their arms brushed with nearly every step. Not hovering. Guarding. There was a difference. Though honestly, the distinction felt increasingly academic.
“You doing okay, little shadow hunter?” he murmured quietly as the tunnel sloped downward again.
Kara adjusted the heavy cloak tighter around herself before answering. “Physically? Sure. Emotionally? I’d say I’m currently operating somewhere between deeply concerned and spiritually offended.”
One corner of Nick’s mouth twitched. Apparently he was pleased with her answer. He knew that if she stopped making jokes entirely, everybody should probably panic.
Behind them, Aphid muttered under his breath as he ducked beneath a low section of hanging stone. “I would just like it officially documented that I hate caves.”
“You live in forests filled with carnivorous plants,” Wadim pointed out.
“Yes, but the plants at least have the decency to do their murdering in open spaces.”
Torvik, who had somehow convinced the Troll King to allow him to accompany them, looked delighted instead of terrified.
The child moved beside Verna with quick, eager steps, occasionally glancing back toward Aphid like he’d personally discovered the greatest source of entertainment in existence.
Honestly? Couldn’t blame the kid. Aphid was an interesting character. Kind of like those British soldiers who stood in front of the palace, all stoic. You just want to walk up and poke them to see if they’d react.
The deeper they descended, the warmer the air became. It was dense and heavy with something that made Kara shudder. Magic. Old magic. The kind that settled against her skin instead of merely surrounding it. Kara glanced over her shoulder to see how it was affecting the other healer.
Rachel slowed several feet behind them, her expression tightening as her gaze swept slowly across the narrowing corridor. Gavril immediately noticed and shifted closer to his mate.
“What is it?” he asked quietly.
Rachel shook her head once. “I don’t know.”
Which, coming from a gypsy healer as old as Rachel, was deeply unhelpful.
Her eyes lifted toward the stone ceiling overhead. “Everything down here feels . . .” she hesitated. “Wrong isn’t the right word.”
“Ancient?” Zara offered softly.
Rachel nodded slowly. “Yes.”
The Troll King glanced back toward them without slowing his pace. “The foundations were old before the trolls first walked these caverns.”
That did not improve Kara’s comfort level even slightly.
Old things got worn out, or haunted, or grew mold.
None of which she wanted anything to do with.
Suck it up, Kara, she told herself, knowing her mate was probably listening, you might just be saving all the realms. Or dooming them to hell.
Let’s keep it real. “How far down are we going exactly?” she asked.
The king’s dark amber gaze flicked briefly toward her stomach before returning forward. “Far enough.”
“Oh, excellent. I love vague answers during potentially fatal expeditions, while being pregnant at, oh, that’s right, I have no idea how far along I am anymore because apparently time moves differently along the foundations of the supernatural world.
” Did she sound panicky? She did. She totally sounded panicky.
Kara took a deep breath as Nick’s hand settled instinctively against the small of her back again.
“Breathe, yeah?”
“Over here breathing like a champ, coach. Send me in, I’m ready.” She shook her head, despite the fact that she was using their bond to speak. “I lied, I’m not ready.”
The baby shifted beneath Kara’s ribs. The sensation slid uneasily through her chest.
“She feels it, too,” Kara said quietly before realizing she’d spoken aloud.
The entire group slowed.
Verna looked back sharply. “The child?”
Kara nodded once, one hand pressing lightly against her stomach. “She’s been reacting since we entered the lower tunnels.” Her brows pulled together. “But it’s different now.”
“How?”
Kara struggled briefly for the words. Not fear. Not exactly. Recognition. Like her daughter heard something Kara herself couldn’t fully understand. “She knows we’re getting closer,” Kara admitted softly.
Silence settled over the corridor.
Even the troll warriors surrounding them seemed unsettled by that.
Torvik looked openly fascinated.
“That is either beautiful or horrifying,” Aphid muttered.
“Yes,” Verna answered quietly. “It is. Or, horrifyingly beautiful.”
Kara narrowed her eyes on the elder. “I really like you, until you say crap like that. Then I’m like, look at that creepy troll lady. She should sit on a pencil.”
Apparently, this did not offend Verna in the least. She simply laughed. “Oh child, it is good to have new blood in the family. Someone with some sass.”
“I’ll show you sass,” Kara muttered under her breath as they continued forward.
The tunnel opened abruptly several minutes later.
Kara stopped so fast that Nick nearly walked into her.
“Oh,” she breathed.
The cavern beyond dwarfed everything they’d seen so far.
Massive stone columns stretched upward into darkness so deep the ceiling vanished entirely from sight. The floor beneath them spread outward in enormous circular layers carved directly into the mountain itself, descending step by step toward a vast abyss at the center of the chamber.
And suspended above that abyss . . .
Light.
Not crystal light.
Not fire.
Something else.
Silver and gold threads spiraled upward through the darkness like veins of living starlight woven directly into the air itself. They moved slowly, pulsing faintly in uneven rhythms that immediately reminded Kara of heartbeats.
Except parts of the light were wrong.
Black fractures spread between the glowing strands like cracks through glass.
The corruption.
Only now Kara understood what she was actually seeing.
Not infection.
Damage.
The foundations themselves were breaking.
Nick swore softly beside her.
Even Wadim had gone completely silent.
The Troll King descended the first massive stone step into the chamber below. “This place existed before the realms separated fully from one another.”
Kara barely heard him.
The light suspended above the abyss pulled at something deep inside her chest hard enough to ache.
And her daughter moved sharply beneath her heart in response.
The silver-gold threads flared brighter.
Every troll in the chamber froze instantly.
“Kara,” Nick said carefully.
She couldn’t look away.
Something inside the foundations had noticed her. No. Not her. Her baby.
The realization hit hard enough to steal her breath. The light shifted again.
And for one terrible second, Kara saw shapes moving deep within the glowing fractures beneath the chamber floor. Hands. Faces. Shadows pressing against broken seams in reality itself.
The abyss groaned. The entire chamber shook violently.
Troll warriors shouted as cracks splintered suddenly across the outer stone ledges. Dust thundered from the unseen ceiling overhead.
Nick grabbed Kara immediately, pulling her hard against his chest as another tremor rolled through the foundations beneath them.
The silver-gold light flickered violently. Then dimmed. The black fractures spread wider. And something moved inside them.
Not fully visible. Too large. Too wrong.
A pressure wave slammed through the chamber hard enough to drive several trolls backward.
Kara gasped as pain lanced suddenly through her stomach. Sharp. Deep. Her daughter reacted instantly beneath her ribs, movement rippling violently through her body.
The foundations answered. Light exploded outward across the chamber.
Nick did, too, one arm bracing her as his face dropped in agony.
The silver-gold threads surged brighter than before, slamming against the black fractures with enough force to make the mountain scream.
Every lantern shattered.
Darkness crashed over the chamber.
For one heartbeat, the only remaining light came from the foundations.
And from Kara.
Soft silver light pulsed faintly beneath the skin of her stomach where Nick’s hand covered it protectively.
Nobody moved.
Nobody breathed.
Then Verna’s voice broke softly through the darkness.
“Remember what I said, she’s ready,” the elder whispered.
But what did that really mean? “I don’t understand,” Kara said, her voice cracking. “It sounds all philosophical and beautiful when you’re not in a damn cave miles below the surface with it about to collapse in on you! What does it mean?”
Verna looked toward the widening fractures spreading through the foundations below them. “You don’t have to understand. You just have to trust.”