Zach Brenner's Arc

Chapter 25 of 86

Zach held his sword high. The blade's glow spread over wet stone and rotted beams. The tunnel forked ahead into two black mouths. He had no way to know which way led through the mountain and which way ended in dead rock. A wrong turn and they would wander until they starved. Garrok stood beside him, axe ready. The barbarian had guided them since his mountain town, hunting the same sorcerer who killed his hunters. Now even he stared at the split tunnel and said nothing. "We split, we die," Garrok said. "Pick one path. Pray it breathes." Zach walked to the left mouth. Dead air. He crossed to the right. A thin, cold breeze touched his face. "Air's moving here," he said. "Air has to go somewhere. This one runs through." Raven pressed close to the right opening. Her cat ears turned. "He's right. I feel it too. It comes from far off." Zach chose the right. It was a guess dressed as reason, but standing still would kill them just the same. Lyra walked ahead, one hand on the wall. Her elven gift read living things through stone. She stopped hard. "We're not alone." Her light caught the ceiling. Thick gray webs hung in ropes across the beams. "We're in a spider's lair," Garrok said low. "Look alive." They came out of the webs. Spiders the size of dogs dropped from the dark, legs clicking on stone. Zach swung and split one open. Garrok's axe took another in half. Raven's crossbow snapped a bolt through a third. Ayla stood at the center, staff raised, her white crystal flaring to blind the swarm while she healed a bite on Lyra's arm. Fire and steel and bolts filled the narrow tunnel. When the last one curled and died, the floor was slick with them. Garrok knelt and cut into a fat carcass. He scooped pale meat into his bag. Zach stared. "What are you doing?" "Eating," Garrok said. "These feed a man for days." Raven wiped her blade and nodded. "He's right. The meat tastes like beef and chicken both. My people trap them at home." Ayla and Lyra both agreed, already filling their own packs. Zach looked at the dead things, then at the long dark ahead. Days of walking. He knelt and cut too. The breeze grew stronger as they pushed on. Then the tunnel bent, and far ahead Zach saw it. A pale gray seam of daylight, low against the rock. The mineshaft did reach the far side. The mountain had not swallowed them. They stumbled toward the light with meat enough to last and open sky beyond the stone. The blizzard trail was behind them now. On the far slope lay the Dead River, and Malachar, and whatever waited to raise Darkthorne.