Chapter 309

Chapter 309
【Elsa POV】

We wait by the water's edge, watching the dark surface where Leif disappeared. The artificial red sky reflects on the lake like spilled paint.

"Come on," I whisper, counting the seconds. "Come on."

The surface breaks with a violent splash. Leif emerges, water streaming from his hair, breathing hard but grinning.

"There's definitely a drainage pipe down there," he calls out, treading water. "Big enough for all of us. There's a walkway inside, above the water level."

"Thank god," I breathe, relief flooding through me.

"I'm going to scout ahead first," Leif says, swimming closer to shore. "Then you all follow behind me."

He takes another deep breath and disappears beneath the surface again.

Karl steps forward, his tactical mind already working. "I should go last," he says. "That way I can watch everyone's backs if something goes wrong."

"Makes sense," Edda agrees, though her voice shakes slightly.

"So Freyja goes first, then Edda, then Elsa, and I bring up the rear," Karl continues. "That's our best formation."

I nod, though the thought of diving into that black water makes my stomach twist. "No arguments here."

Edda hesitates, looking down at her medical pack. "Should we strip down? These clothes are going to be heavy when they're soaked."

"Better not," I say quickly. "We don't want to leave any evidence we were here. And we haven't seen anyone yet, but that doesn't mean we won't."

"You're right," Edda says, tightening her pack straps. "Better safe than sorry."

Freyja pads to the water's edge and sniffs the surface. I suppose I go first then, she says through our mental link. Though I should warn you all that wet dog smell is going to be quite prominent.

Despite everything, I manage a smile. "We'll survive."

One by one, we slip into the freezing water. I watch Freyja dive gracefully, followed by Edda's more hesitant entry.

When my turn comes, the cold hits me like a punch to the chest. Everything goes black—I can't see anything, can't tell which way is up. Panic claws at my throat as I flail in the darkness, my lungs already burning.

Then I see it—a faint silver glow ahead of me. Freyja's fur is shimmering in the dark water, creating a path of light. I kick toward it, forcing my movements to become purposeful instead of panicked.

Follow me, Freyja's voice whispers in my mind. Almost there.

I swim for what feels like forever but is probably only thirty seconds. My lungs scream for air, and just when I think I can't hold my breath another second, I feel myself entering some kind of tunnel.

But I can't surface. My waterlogged clothes drag me down like anchors. I try to kick upward, but my muscles are weakening. Black spots dance in my vision as terror overwhelms me.

Then strong hands grab me under the arms and haul me upward. My head breaks the surface and I gasp desperately, coughing up water as air fills my lungs.

"I've got you," Leif's voice says close to my ear, his arms steady around me. "You're safe."

I cling to him, my whole body shaking from cold and adrenaline. The relief is so intense it almost hurts.

"Thank you," I whisper against his shoulder.

He doesn't respond with words, just holds me until my breathing steadies, then helps me onto a narrow stone ledge.

A minute later, Karl surfaces with a loud gasp. "Jesus Christ, that's cold," he mutters, pulling himself up beside us.

Now I can see where we are. We're standing on stone walkways that run along either side of an ancient tunnel. Between us flows a channel of dark water, maybe three feet wide. The air smells musty and old, with just a hint of something metallic underneath.

"This way," Leif says, leading us along the slippery walkway.

We move in single file, our wet shoes squeaking against the stone. The tunnel seems to go on forever, our footsteps echoing in the darkness.

After several minutes, Leif suddenly stops. "There," he says, pointing upward.

A rusty iron ladder is bolted to the wall, leading up to what looks like a wooden ceiling.

"I'll check it out first," Leif says, testing the bottom rung. It holds his weight. "Make sure it's safe up there."

He climbs quickly, water still dripping from his clothes. When he reaches the top, there's a pause, then two sharp knocks echo down to us.

"That's the all-clear," Karl says.

Freyja looks up at the ladder with obvious disgust. This was clearly not designed with four-legged creatures in mind.

"Karl's going to carry you," I tell her.

Absolutely not, she huffs. I have my dignity.

"Freyja, be practical," I say out loud. "You can't climb a ladder with paws."

Karl chuckles and scoops her up before she can protest further. "Come on, girl. It'll be quick."

I'm filing a formal complaint, she grumbles as Karl starts climbing with her tucked under one arm.

I go next, my hands slipping on the wet rungs. When I reach the top, I find myself in a small storage room. Stone walls, no decorations, just a layer of dry straw on the floor. Leif and Edda are already there, and Karl emerges behind me with a very disgruntled Freyja.

There's a heavy wooden door on the far wall, secured with an iron latch that looks ancient.

"Well," Edda says, wringing water from her hair, "we made it this far."

"Should we move immediately," Karl asks, checking his weapon, "or take a minute to rest? That swim took it out of all of us."

"I vote for a quick breather," Edda says. "We need to be at full strength for whatever's beyond that door."

I'm about to agree when Freyja's head snaps toward the door, her ears standing straight up.

Someone's coming, she says urgently through our link.

We all freeze. Then I hear it too—soft footsteps on stone, getting closer.

The sound is measured, deliberate. Not the heavy boots of a guard. These are light, careful steps, like someone trying not to make noise.

Leif signals for silence, his hand moving to his weapon. We press ourselves against the walls, barely breathing as the footsteps grow louder.

The footsteps stop right outside our door.

Karl's hand tightens on his knife. Edda presses herself deeper into the corner. Leif positions himself between the door and me, his body tense and ready.

The footsteps start again, but this time they're moving away from our door.

We wait in tense silence until the sound fades completely.