Ch. 138

Ch. 138
“Now!”
Perris grabs my hand, pulling me forward with surprising strength. "Come on!"
I resist for one more heartbeat, my eyes finding Coach across the chamber. The spell has given him a momentary advantage over his blinded brother. He rises to his full height, magnificent despite his wounds, and turns toward me. Our eyes lock across the chaotic battlefield, and something passes between us—something beyond words, beyond the physical realm. Not goodbye, a promise.
Professor Bellamy moves to Coach's side, his hands already tracing new patterns in the air—offensive magic this time, from the sharp, angular nature of the runes. He looks smaller than I've ever seen him —a mere human standing beside the towering form of a Grand Drake —yet there's a strange symmetry between them, as if they belong together in this fight.
Another section of the ceiling begins to break free, directly above our escape route. Perris tugs harder, and this time I follow, letting him pull me into the protective tunnel. We race toward the eastern corridor, the path clear before us thanks to Professor Bellamy's magic.
Just before we reach the corridor entrance, I look back one final time. Coach and Professor Bellamy stand side by side, facing Walderon, who has recovered from the blinding spell. Coach's amber eyes find mine across the distance, and he dips his massive head in what can only be described as a nod of approval. Then he turns back to his brother, drawing himself up to his full, intimidating height despite the corruption spreading across his flank.
Perris pulls me into the corridor just as another massive section of ceiling crashes down, cutting off my view of the battle. The sound is deafening, a thunderous finality that echoes through the passageway as we continue running. Dust billows around us, choking and thick, forcing me to cover my mouth and nose with my sleeve.
"Keep moving!" Perris shouts, not releasing my hand as he leads me deeper into the corridor, away from the collapsing chamber and the two beings I care most about in this world.
My last glimpse of Coach's eyes—fierce, determined, and somehow tender even in the midst of battle—burns in my memory as we flee toward what Professor Bellamy promised would be higher ground. Not safety, not resolution, just a temporary reprieve from the immediate danger. I run, following Perris's lead, with every step taking me farther from Coach and closer to an uncertain future.
But I carry with me that final look, that wordless promise exchanged across a battlefield. And I know, with a certainty that defies explanation, that this is not the end of our story.
Perris drags me deeper into the corridor, his grip on my hand almost painful as chunks of ceiling crash down behind us. Dust fills my lungs with each desperate breath, and the roar of collapsing stone drowns out everything but the hammering of my heart. I can't see Coach anymore, can't see the Professor, can't see anything but Perris's back as he pulls me through the darkness toward whatever counts as safety in this nightmare labyrinth. Each step takes me further from them, but closer to surviving. I hate that those have become different directions.
"Keep moving!" Perris shouts over his shoulder, his voice muffled by the cacophony of destruction pursuing us like a living thing. His fingers tighten around mine as he tugs me around a corner, narrowly avoiding a section of wall that crumbles inward with a groan of ancient stone surrendering to gravity.
The passage twists and narrows, forcing us to duck beneath stone arches that seem to sink lower with each passing second. I focus on Perris's back, on the rhythm of our footfalls, on anything but the thought of Coach facing his brother with that corruption spreading across his crimson scales. Anything but Professor Bellamy standing beside him, pushing himself beyond human limits to give us this chance.
"There's something up ahead," Perris pants, slowing just enough to peer into the gloom before us. "The corridor's... changing."
He's right. The stone beneath our feet gives way to something softer, spongier. The walls, once sharp-edged and angular with runes, begin to curve and twist like the interior of some massive organism. What started as dust in the air thickens into mist—not the steam from battling dragons, but something organic and alive. It smells of decay and growth and things that flourish in darkness.
Roots break through from above, dangling in our path like skeletal fingers. We duck and weave through them, no longer running but moving with cautious haste as the nature of our surroundings transforms completely. The air grows damp, heavy with moisture that condenses on my skin and soaks through my already filthy clothes.
"I think we're almost—" Perris begins, but the words die in his throat as we stumble through what might have once been a doorway but now resembles the maw of some long-dead leviathan.
The vault is gone. In its place, a vast swamp stretches that defies all logic and expectation. Twisted trees rise from murky waters, their gnarled trunks disappearing into a ceiling of mist that glows with faint, otherworldly light. Fungi cling to every surface, pulsing with bioluminescence in shades of blue and purple that cast eerie shadows across the landscape. The water itself seems alive, rippling with movement that might be creatures or merely currents stirred by our arrival.
"What the hell is this place?" I whisper, my voice swallowed by the heavy air.
Perris doesn't answer immediately. He scans our surroundings with uncharacteristic caution, his moss-green eyes reflecting the strange glow of the fungi. Without warning, he steps into the shallow water at the edge of our stone platform, tugging me after him.
"Come on," he urges, wading forward with determination. "We need to get to higher ground."