Chapter 185
Chapter 185
Citlali's POV
His voice took on the weight of command as he laid out the plan. "You report your position and status through mindlink every ten minutes. No exceptions."
He looked at each of us in turn, his expression grave. "If you encounter any danger—any at all—you retreat immediately. No heroics, no fighting unless you have absolutely no other choice."
His gaze settled on me, hard and unyielding. "If we don't hear from you within an hour, or if the mindlink cuts off for any reason, we're coming in after you. We don't leave anyone behind. Understood?"
"Understood," Rowan and I said in unison.
Dorian stepped forward and pressed a small dagger into my hand. The blade was cold against my palm, but its weight was reassuring. "For emergencies."
I closed my fingers around the hilt. "Thank you."
Aldric's hand came down on my shoulder, firm and steady. "Remember—coming back alive is more important than anything else. More important than finding the girls, more important than the mission. Your life comes first."
I met his eyes and nodded.
Rowan went first, turning sideways to squeeze through the narrow opening. I followed close behind, my heart hammering against my ribs.
The stone walls pressed in on both sides, cold and slick with moisture. Moss grew in thick patches, slimy under my fingertips as I used the walls for balance.
The water rose quickly from a trickle to a stream that covered my ankles, shockingly cold even through the numbness of fear. The smell intensified as we moved deeper, becoming almost unbearable.
My stomach heaved, and I had to breathe through my mouth to keep from vomiting. Even then, I could taste the sewage on my tongue—a foul, rancid flavor that made me want to gag.
The passage was pitch black. We had to rely entirely on our wolf vision, which let us make out vague shapes and outlines but nothing more.
Every step was treacherous—the stones underfoot were slippery with algae and waste, and I had to move slowly to avoid falling. The walls seemed to close in tighter with each step, and I fought down the rising panic that threatened to overwhelm me.
After about ten yards, the passage began to widen slightly. The ceiling rose higher, and the water deepened until it reached my knees.
The cold bit into my legs, making them ache. The walls were no longer smooth stone but rough brick, covered in some kind of slimy growth that I didn't want to examine too closely.
Things moved in the darkness—rats, probably, or worse. I could hear them skittering along the walls, their claws scraping against stone.
The ceiling dripped constantly, and whatever was dripping was thick and viscous, landing on my hair and shoulders with wet plops that made my skin crawl.
The air was so thick with stench that it felt solid, like something I had to push through with each breath. My lungs burned, my eyes watered, and my throat felt raw.
But I kept moving, one foot in front of the other, following Rowan's dark shape ahead of me.
We're in, I sent through the mindlink to Aldric. Passage is narrow and conditions are terrible, but we're making progress.
Received, came his reply. Stay alert.
After another stretch of slow progress, we reached our first fork in the tunnel. Two passages stretched away into darkness, identical in appearance.
Both were black, both reeked of sewage, both looked equally uninviting.
Rowan stopped and turned to me. "We need to mark our path. Otherwise we'll get lost down here."
He pulled out a small stone from his pocket and used it to scratch an arrow into the wall, pointing back the way we'd come.
Then we stood together, studying the two passages. I examined them carefully, looking for any difference that might guide our choice.
"The right one slopes upward slightly," I observed. "If we're trying to get into the palace, up is probably the right direction."
Rowan nodded. "Agreed."
We took the right passage and continued forward.
---
After another ten minutes of careful progress, we encountered a second fork—this time a three-way intersection.
Rowan continued marking our path, scratching another arrow into the wall. We studied the three passages, trying to determine which would be most likely to lead to the palace.
After a brief discussion, we chose the middle passage. It seemed to maintain the upward slope we'd been following.
The tunnel system grew more complex with each turn. Sometimes the passages narrowed until we had to squeeze through sideways, our shoulders scraping against the walls.
Sometimes they opened into larger chambers where multiple passages converged, forcing us to choose our direction carefully.
Some sections were partially collapsed, with piles of rubble that we had to climb over carefully in the darkness. Strange sounds echoed through the tunnels—dripping water, the skittering of rats, and occasionally something that might have been voices, though they were too distant and distorted to be sure.
Twenty minutes in, I sent to Aldric. Multiple forks in the tunnel system. We're marking our path and moving toward what we think is the palace. Still safe.
Received, Aldric replied. Continue reporting.
---
We had been moving through the sewers for perhaps twenty minutes when we entered a wider passage. The ceiling was higher here, and the water had receded slightly, only reaching our ankles.
For a moment, I allowed myself to hope that we were making real progress.
Then, without warning, we heard it—a deep, grinding rumble from somewhere ahead. The sound grew louder, and suddenly the tunnel in front of us began to shake.
Dust and small stones rained down from the ceiling, pattering into the water around our feet.
"Back!" Rowan shouted, grabbing my arm and pulling me away.
We scrambled backward as a section of the tunnel wall ahead suddenly gave way with a thunderous crash. Massive stones tumbled down, blocking the passage completely.
We pressed ourselves against the opposite wall, hearts racing, as the dust slowly settled. When the rumbling finally stopped, we found ourselves staring at a wall of rubble that completely sealed off the tunnel ahead.
Rowan moved forward and tried to shift one of the larger stones, his muscles straining with effort. But it was hopeless—the rocks were too heavy, too numerous.
"We'll have to find another way," he said grimly, his voice tight with frustration.