Chapter 318: Seven Behind the Gallery

The tremor did not stop after the first break.

It rolled beneath their boots in three slow waves, each one weaker than the last but deep enough to make dust sift from the ceiling and old iron supports groan against stone. The two rescued survivors went silent immediately. Rask turned his head toward the deeper passage. Vance did not move for several seconds, his eyes fixed on the floor as though the rock might tell him what had shifted beneath them.

Kael felt the System open at the edge of his vision.

[Geothermal Disturbance Detected]

Magnitude: moderate

Source depth: unresolved

Structural propagation: active

Local collapse probability: increasing

That last line remained longer than the others.

Kael dismissed the display.

"We move."

Galahad nodded. "Back to the forward hold first."

Vance looked toward the deeper darkness.

"The seven are the other direction."

"The two beside you can barely stand."

One of the rescued men immediately straightened as though pride alone could repair dehydration, bruising, and whatever else he had survived.

Galahad looked at him.

"No."

The man frowned.

"I didn’t say anything."

"You were about to."

Rask laughed once and regretted it when his ribs tightened.

Galahad pointed back toward the transfer route. "We deliver these two. Then we collect the survivor Iris found in the service pocket. After that, everyone we know is alive except the seven beyond the lower gallery."

Vance’s jaw flexed.

"That costs us another hour."

Galahad looked at him. "If you want to carry two injured men through the Ash-King’s territory while fighting, say it now."

Vance did not.

"Good."

Kael almost smiled.

Theron Vance might command the Iron Vanguard, but Galahad had become increasingly comfortable telling him no.

That was useful.

They started back.

The dead drake still blocked most of the transfer cut.

Its body had settled heavier after death, chest pressed against one wall and rear legs tangled against the opposite side. Blood had pooled beneath its throat and turned black where volcanic dust absorbed it.

Sera stopped beside it.

Her arrow was still buried somewhere under the jaw.

Kael knew what she was looking for before she said anything.

"Can we get it?"

Darius examined the angle.

"No."

Sera stared at the wound.

Rask looked between them. "Arrow?"

"Yes."

"You want to cut the neck open?"

Sera looked at him.

Rask raised both hands.

"Question."

"No."

"Good."

She moved.

Eight arrows remained.

Kael watched her for another moment.

The old Sera might have spent thirty seconds calculating whether an arrow could be recovered.

This Sera looked once, accepted the loss, and kept moving.

Not healed.

Different.

The return over the support shelf was worse with injured survivors.

Darius crossed first and positioned himself where the stone narrowed. Kael followed, then one of the survivors. The man’s legs shook so badly that he stopped halfway across the shelf and pressed his body against the wall.

"I can’t."

Darius held out one hand.

"Yes, you can."

The man shook his head.

The shelf beneath his boots was barely wider than his foot. The dead drake lay below and behind them. The drop beside the shelf would not kill him immediately.

That almost made it worse.

Darius did not move closer.

"Look at me."

The survivor did.

"Not down."

The man swallowed.

Darius kept his voice level.

"One step."

The man moved.

"Again."

Another.

No promise that he was safe.

No useless encouragement.

Instructions.

The survivor crossed.

Kael understood why Darius’s style worked outside combat too.

Structure before strength.

Even fear could be reduced to the next stable position.

The second survivor did better until another tremor touched the passage.

Only a shiver this time.

Enough.

His boot slipped.

Sera caught the back of his coat before he went over.

The sudden weight dragged her forward.

Kael grabbed her belt.

Pain ripped through his ribs.

He nearly lost his own footing.

"Hold."

"I am."

Sera’s voice came through clenched teeth.

The survivor clawed at the stone.

Rask dropped onto one knee and caught his wrist.

Three people hauled him back.

For several seconds nobody moved.

Kael breathed shallowly.

Sera looked over her shoulder.

"You all right?"

"No."

"Good."

Kael frowned.

She added, "Better answer."

Fair.

They kept going.

By the time they reached the upper route, sweat had soaked through Kael’s shirt beneath his armor. Darius’s shoulder had begun bleeding again under the bandage. Rask’s breathing sounded worse. Sera’s right hip hurt from where the survivor had dragged her against stone, though she refused to admit it until Iris looked at the way she walked.

"You’re favoring it."

"I’m walking."

"That wasn’t what I said."

Sera looked at her.

Iris smiled faintly.

"You do that to everyone else."

Sera muttered something under her breath.

Milo would have enjoyed the exchange.

Kael found himself wishing he were there.

Then remembered Milo was lying on a floor because he had nearly emptied himself keeping a burned man from screaming his skin open inside a tunnel.

Good.

Stay there.

The forward hold reacted differently when the two transfer survivors appeared.

The first rescued group had produced relief.

This produced disbelief.

People stood.

One woman covered her mouth.

A fighter near the treatment corner simply sat down where he was, both hands pressed against his face.

Someone whispered, "They found them."

Vance did not take credit.

That caught Kael’s attention.

He walked the first survivor directly toward the treatment area and helped lower him to a blanket.

Rask took the second.

Mara appeared from beside the rail and grabbed the rescued man’s face with both hands.

"You idiot."

The man smiled weakly.

"You rang loud enough."

"You answered wrong."

"I was concussed."

"That is not an excuse for bad code."

He laughed.

Mara hugged him.

Hard.

Then released him and immediately inspected his pupils.

Kael looked toward Galahad.

Galahad saw him looking.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"That usually means something."

Kael nodded toward Mara.

Galahad glanced over.

Then understood.

People returned.

That was the mission.

Not the Ash-King.

Not Vance.

Not the laboratories.

Those things mattered because people were trapped inside them.

The System appeared briefly.

[Confirmed personnel recovered: 6]

Kael stared at it.

Six.

Four from the ventilation station.

Two from the transfer cut.

The third uncertain survivor remained in the service pocket.

Seven remained beyond the gallery.

Fourteen people had once been uncertain across those deeper routes.

Thirteen were now accounted for as alive if Iris’s service-pocket survivor held.

One status remained unclear only because they had not physically brought him back yet.

Kael closed the notification.

No reward.

Good.

Mara approached.

"The rail line says the two are clear."

Rask pointed toward them.

"You could have looked."

"I like confirmation."

"You sound like him."

Mara looked toward Kael.

"I meant Vance."

Rask smiled.

Vance did not.

Galahad unrolled the map again.

"Service pocket next."

Iris stepped closer.

"I can lead."

Rask shook his head.

"You already did."

"I know the route."

"So do I now."

Iris looked at his side.

"You also have ribs."

"So does the prince."

Kael raised a hand.

"Leave me out of this."

Nobody did.

Darius stepped beside the table.

"We do not need the entire combat group for one wounded man."

Galahad nodded.

"Iris, Rask, Kael."

Darius immediately looked at him.

Kael smiled.

Darius stared.

The smile disappeared.

Galahad continued, "Darius stays. Shoulder gets rewrapped. Sera checks equipment. Vance and I plan the lower-gallery approach. Milo rests."

From the floor came Milo’s voice.

"Excellent leadership."

Sera looked over.

"You’re still awake?"

"No."

"You’ve been saying that for hours."

"Sleep is complicated in hostile environments."

Galahad ignored him.

Darius looked at Kael.

"Do not fight anything."

Kael frowned.

"That seems situational."

"No."

"What if—"

"No."

Rask looked between them.

"This is strange."

Iris picked up her rope.

"You get used to it."

Kael followed them before Darius could add another restriction.

The service pocket sat above the lower gallery but did not connect cleanly to it anymore. Iris had found the route through a drainage cut half-filled with broken stone. The three of them moved slowly, partly because of Rask’s ribs and partly because another tremor might turn the entire slope into a rockslide.

Kael crouched beneath a broken beam.

"How did you find this?"

Iris ducked after him.

"Blood."

"His?"

"Yes."

"Drake?"

"Yes."

Rask followed.

"Mostly drake."

Kael looked back.

Rask smiled.

"Some him."

Very helpful.

The passage turned.

The smell arrived first.

Blood.

Then drake.

The dead animal lay wedged in the narrow gap where Iris and Rask had killed it earlier. Smaller than the one in the transfer cut. Young, maybe.

Its damaged eye was a dark hole.

The throat had been opened with a knife or short blade after it became stuck.

Kael stopped.

"You two did this?"

Rask leaned against the wall.

"Iris did the intelligent part."

"What did you do?"

"Made it angry."

Iris moved past the carcass.

"He was excellent bait."

Rask looked offended.

"That was not the plan."

"No."

Kael followed her.

"Was there a plan?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"Don’t die."

Rask pointed toward her.

"That was apparently the entire plan."

Kael smiled despite himself.

The service pocket lay twenty yards farther.

A man sat against the back wall with a torn blanket around his shoulders.

He lifted a knife when they entered.

Then saw Iris.

"You came back."

"I said I would."

The man lowered the knife.

His left leg was wrapped from thigh to knee. Blood had seeped through but not recently.

Kael crouched.

"Can you stand?"

The survivor looked at him.

Recognition came slowly.

"Prince."

Rask sighed.

Kael glanced at him.

"Don’t."

Rask closed his mouth.

The man looked toward Kael’s armor.

"You really are."

"Yes."

"Why?"

Kael frowned.

"Why what?"

"Why are you here?"

Good question.

Kael considered several answers.

Because it was his territory.

Because the Guild mission began under his House.

Because people were missing.

Because leaving while people remained below felt wrong.

None felt complete.

"Because you were still here."

The man stared.

Then nodded once.

Good enough.

Iris checked his leg.

"Can you move?"

"With help."

Rask looked toward Kael.

"Darius said no fighting."

"That has nothing to do with carrying."

"You’re injured."

"So are you."

"That is why I brought it up."

Iris looked between them.

"I can carry more weight than either of you right now."

Both men stared.

She raised an eyebrow.

"Wind."

Right.

Her affinity did not give her Mana Weaving yet, but she could lighten herself and adjust movement.

Kael knew that.

Still forgot sometimes because Iris used supernatural ability like a tool, not an announcement.

They improvised.

Rask took the survivor’s right side.

Kael the left.

Iris went ahead and used small Wind adjustments to reduce their burden during the worst climbs.

Not enough to float anyone.

Enough to turn one impossible step into three difficult ones.

The return took twice as long.

No monsters.

One small tremor.

A shower of pebbles at the drainage cut.

Nothing dramatic.

Kael almost appreciated ordinary difficulty.

When they reached the forward hold, the survivor’s arrival changed the count again.

All three previously uncertain personnel were now alive.

Mara wrote it on the edge of the map.

3 recovered.

Galahad looked at the note.

Then at the lower-gallery mark.

"Seven."

Vance nodded.

"Seven."

No other side group.

No other uncertain team.

The unfinished rescue had finally narrowed to one place.

That made the problem cleaner.

Not easier.

The seven were trapped beyond the Ash-King’s active territory.

Vance had spent the time building a plan.

Kael immediately disliked it.

Not because it was reckless.

Because it required them to move closer to the creature without fighting it.

Vance pointed to the basin map.

"The lower-gallery entrance is here, beneath the western ridge."

Sera leaned over the table.

"And the Ash-King?"

"Usually here after feeding."

"Usually again."

"Yes."

Darius’s shoulder had been rewrapped.

Fresh cloth.

Still stiff.

He looked at the map.

"How long from this access?"

"Twenty minutes to the observation break. Ten more across the lower shelf if clear."

Galahad asked, "Open terrain?"

"Last section."

"How open?"

Vance looked at him.

"Bad."

Milo spoke from the floor.

"Technical term."

Galahad ignored him.

Vance continued. "The gallery entrance sits below a basalt lip. The last hundred and fifty yards have almost no overhead cover."

Sera’s face tightened.

"From the air."

"Yes."

Iris joined them after washing blood from her hands.

"What about ash cover?"

Vance looked at her.

"Sometimes helps us."

"Sometimes helps it."

"Yes."

Kael studied the map.

"If we reach the gallery, can the Ash-King enter?"

"No."

That was the first good thing he had heard.

Vance tapped the entrance.

"Too narrow."

"Then why are the seven trapped?"

"Because they cannot cross the open shelf."

Kael understood.

The gallery was safe from the creature’s body.

Not its breath.

Vance answered that before he asked.

"Ash reaches inside."

Milo sat up slightly.

"How far?"

"Depends on the wind."

"Of course."

Milo stood.

Or tried.

Sera put one hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down.

"No."

Milo looked at her.

"I need the map."

Sera picked it up.

Walked over.

Placed it on his knees.

Milo stared.

She folded her arms.

"Problem solved."

He looked toward Kael.

"She has become impossible."

Kael shrugged.

"She learned from you."

Milo studied the map.

His humor faded.

He traced the open shelf.

"Wind direction now?"

Vance looked toward Mara.

"Southwest in the basin."

Milo shook his head.

"Surface?"

"No."

"Then useless."

Vance’s eyes narrowed.

Milo tapped the map.

"Air inside that basin does not care what the world outside is doing. Heat controls it."

He looked toward Kael.

"When you saw the full breath, what direction did the cloud move?"

"East, then climbed."

"After?"

"Curled north."

Milo nodded.

"Vent cycle."

Vance leaned closer.

"You think it repeats."

"I think everything that breathes and vents heat creates patterns."

Darius looked at him.

"Can you predict one?"

Milo smiled weakly.

"Not from a map."

Galahad immediately said, "Then you are not coming."

Milo’s smile vanished.

"That was not the conclusion."

"Yes, it was."

"I need to see the air."

"You can barely stand."

"Standing is optional for magic."

Sera closed her eyes.

"Milo."

He looked at her.

Seven people.

That was all she had to say.

His expression changed.

"I can help."

Galahad’s voice hardened.

"You helped six people already."

"And seven are left."

"You collapse in the open shelf, somebody has to carry you too."

Milo looked away.

That was the part he could not joke around.

Kael understood both sides.

Milo’s power might be exactly what they needed if the Ash-King breathed ash toward the gallery.

Milo might also die attempting it.

The System offered no convenient answer.

Good.

Vance looked at Milo.

"How much can you do?"

Galahad’s head turned sharply.

"Do not."

Milo answered anyway.

"Wind only. Small."

"Clear a path?"

"For seconds."

"Enough for people to cross?"

"Not a hundred and fifty yards."

Vance nodded.

"Then you stay."

Milo stared.

Vance’s expression did not change.

"If you could solve the problem, I would argue for taking you. You cannot."

That hit differently.

Milo actually considered it.

Then looked toward Sera.

She nodded.

Milo sighed.

"I hate reasonable people."

Rask, seated nearby with fresh binding around his ribs, said, "That explains your friends."

Kael smiled.

Then the mountain moved again.

Not a tremor.

A sharp jolt.

The lantern over the planning table swung hard enough to strike the wall.

Someone shouted from the lower hold.

Stone cracked.

Everyone went still.

The System opened.

[Geothermal Pressure Increase]

Local structural stability: deteriorating

New vent activity detected south-southwest

Recommendation: reduce delay

Kael looked toward Galahad.

"System says pressure increased."

Vance’s face tightened.

"Where?"

"South-southwest."

Mara swore.

"What?"

She pointed at the map.

"Lower gallery."

Vance moved.

Not toward the tunnel.

Toward the table.

"Explain."

"The south vent line runs beneath the old gallery supports."

"If pressure shifts into it?"

Mara’s face went pale.

"The seven may lose the gallery before the Ash-King ever reaches them."

That decided it.

Galahad began giving orders.

No debate.

"Sera, eight arrows?"

She nodded.

"Eight."

"Iris, forward route."

"Yes."

"Darius, front anchor."

Darius nodded.

"Kael, with him."

Good.

"Vance, you know the Ash-King. You call its movement."

Vance accepted that.

"Rask stays."

Rask opened his mouth.

Galahad looked at his ribs.

Rask closed it.

"Mara stays for route signals."

She nodded reluctantly.

"Milo stays."

Milo lifted one hand.

"Oppression acknowledged."

"Veyra?"

She stood.

Galahad looked at the focus.

"One shot?"

"Probably."

"Probably is bad."

"So is none."

He considered.

"Come."

Davin and Eron remained to hold the forward position and help move the rescued survivors if another collapse reached them.

The rescue group became seven.

Kael.

Darius.

Galahad.

Iris.

Sera.

Vance.

Veyra.

No fresh fighters.

No reinforcements.

No Black Dragon cavalry appearing from nowhere.

Just the people who had reached this point.

Galahad looked around.

"We are not killing the Ash-King."

Vance said nothing.

Galahad continued.

"We get the seven out. If it finds us, we break contact."

Darius nodded.

Sera checked her bowstring.

Iris tightened the rope on her pack.

Veyra touched the damaged focus.

Kael rested one hand on his sword.

Vance looked toward the lower-gallery route.

Then said, "If it finds us on the open shelf, breaking contact may not be our decision."

Galahad met his eyes.

"Then we make it one."

They left.

The path descended harder than any previous route.

Heat thickened.

Ash appeared earlier.

Not deep.

A constant gray film over black stone.

The System kept warning Kael about air quality in small increments.

Trace.

Elevated.

Poor.

Not dangerous yet.

The lower they went, the more the Caldera sounded alive around them.

Steam hissed through cracks.

Stone popped as heat expanded it.

Somewhere far below, liquid rock moved with a slow sound like thick water beneath a floor.

Kael’s Ice mana hated the place.

He could feel the inefficiency before using anything.

Cold bled away faster.

Every technique would cost more.

Vance noticed frost briefly appearing around Kael’s fingers.

"Ice?"

Kael looked at him.

"Yes."

Vance stared.

"In here?"

"Yes."

"That explains the expression."

"What expression?"

"Like the mountain offended you personally."

Sera whispered behind them, "Eyebrows."

Kael did not turn.

"I heard that."

"Good."

Darius almost smiled.

The route narrowed near the observation break.

Iris raised one fist.

Everyone stopped.

She crouched.

Ash ahead.

More than before.

She touched the stone wall beside it, not the ash.

"Warm."

Vance moved beside her.

"How warm?"

"Recent."

He looked through the crack.

Then pulled back.

"The Ash-King crossed."

"How long?" Galahad asked.

Iris studied the ash movement.

"Less than an hour."

Vance nodded.

"Maybe less."

Kael opened the System.

[Residual draconic heat signature detected]

Confidence: moderate

No exact time.

Fine.

They continued.

The observation break showed the western ridge.

The lower gallery was visible.

Barely.

A dark rectangular opening beneath a leaning basalt shelf.

Between them and it lay one hundred and fifty yards of gray.

No trees.

No cover except three broken stone ribs rising from the ash field.

The ground itself looked dead.

Not burned.

Dead.

Color drained from everything.

A twisted root protruding near the first stone rib had become gray enough that Kael initially mistook it for ash.

Iris stared.

"Ashen passage."

Vance looked at her.

"What?"

"Nothing."

She was naming it for herself.

Tracking language.

Useful.

Sera crouched behind the lip and studied angles.

"Where does it usually come from?"

Vance pointed north.

"Most often."

"Most often is becoming offensive."

"It does not care."

Galahad looked toward the gallery.

"Any signal?"

Vance took a small iron striker from his belt.

He tapped the stone beside the observation break.

Three.

Pause.

Three.

Nothing.

Again.

Three.

Pause.

Three.

A faint metallic answer came from the gallery.

One.

Pause.

One.

Vance closed his eyes.

Only for a second.

"Alive."

Seven.

Still alive.

Kael’s chest tightened.

Galahad looked at the field.

"We cross."

Iris shook her head.

"Not yet."

Everyone looked at her.

She pointed upward.

Ash.

Not falling.

Moving.

Very slightly.

Sera’s hand went to an arrow.

Vance whispered, "Down."

They flattened behind the ridge.

Nothing appeared.

Ten seconds.

Twenty.

Kael heard his own breathing.

Thirty.

Then a shape moved through the gray far north.

Not close.

Large enough that distance did not matter.

The Ash-King emerged from its own haze like something being remembered by the world.

Corpse-black wings spread wide.

No sound.

Smoke poured from the hollow spines along its back.

Its skeletal body passed above the northern basin, gaunt enough that Kael could see the architecture of bone beneath stretched hide even from here.

It landed.

Right rear leg.

Shift.

One correction step.

Darius watched.

Sera watched.

Vance watched.

The creature lowered its head.

Its tiny white pupils disappeared as it turned away.

Galahad whispered, "Wait."

They waited.

The Ash-King walked south.

Each step left dead gray ground behind it.

Then it vanished behind basalt.

Vance counted under his breath.

Not numbers Kael could hear.

Time.

Pattern.

When he reached whatever point he wanted, he looked at Galahad.

"Now."

They moved.

Iris first.

Galahad.

Sera.

Veyra.

Kael.

Darius.

Vance last.

No running at first.

Running wasted balance.

They crossed in fast controlled strides.

Ash puffed around Kael’s boots.

The first stone rib approached.

Thirty yards.

Kael’s lungs already felt dry.

The second lay another forty beyond.

Halfway.

Sera looked north while moving.

No creature.

Third rib.

The gallery.

Seventy yards.

Then the ground cracked.

Not beneath them.

Ahead.

A thin fracture split the ash field and released a burst of steam.

Iris jumped sideways.

"Right!"

Everyone changed.

No hesitation.

Galahad followed her line.

The fracture widened.

Hot vapor tore upward.

Kael felt it through armor.

Veyra stumbled.

Kael caught her elbow.

"Move."

"I am."

They cleared the vent.

The gallery was fifty yards away.

Then Sera stopped.

Galahad nearly collided with her.

"What?"

She looked north.

Kael followed.

Nothing.

Then he saw the ash fold.

The same way it had before.

Silent flight.

Vance swore.

"RUN."

They ran.

No formation now.

Speed.

The Ash-King came through the cloud.

Farther north than before.

Too fast anyway.

Sera drew an arrow while running.

Darius shouted, "No shot!"

She held.

Good.

The gallery entrance grew.

Thirty yards.

Twenty.

Kael heard the wings now.

Not beats.

That dry paper whisper.

Closer.

Vance looked back.

"Chest!"

Kael turned enough to see it.

Ember-red light pulsed beneath the creature’s cracked neck.

Not white.

Not full breath.

Still bad.

"Gallery!"

Galahad shoved Iris ahead.

Sera reached the entrance.

Veyra.

Kael.

Darius stopped outside.

Of course he did.

"Darius!"

"Go!"

Vance also stopped.

Kael swore.

Two idiots.

The Ash-King descended.

Its mouth opened.

Darius raised his sword.

Aura thickened around him.

Not Awakening.

Not yet.

Raw control.

Vance grabbed a broken slab and shoved it upright as partial cover.

The Ash-King exhaled.

Ash struck the field.

Not the enormous full blast Kael had seen earlier.

A shorter cone.

Still enough.

The front edge hit Darius and Vance’s cover.

Stone vanished behind gray.

Kael reached for Ice.

Wrong.

Wall would crack.

Gas would still move.

Think.

"Darius!"

A hand grabbed Kael’s collar.

Galahad.

"Inside!"

"I can—"

"No."

Then Milo’s voice echoed in Kael’s memory.

I can make holes in it.

Milo was not here.

Sera was.

She stood inside the gallery entrance with bow raised.

No shot.

Ash swallowed the doorway.

Darius appeared through it first.

Staggering.

Vance behind him.

Both gray.

Both coughing.

Galahad and Kael dragged Darius inside.

Veyra pulled Vance.

The Ash cloud rolled into the gallery after them.

"Deeper!" Vance coughed.

Seven figures waited farther in.

Alive.

Terrified.

One shouted something Kael did not hear.

Everyone moved.

The gallery bent left.

Ash followed.

Sera covered her mouth with one sleeve.

Her bow remained in the other hand.

Eight arrows.

Still eight.

The seven survivors joined them.

No introductions.

No time.

One could not walk.

Another had a bandaged head.

Galahad pointed.

"You two take him."

People obeyed.

Kael looked back.

The gallery entrance was completely gray.

Then the Ash-King’s eye appeared through the cloud.

One tiny white point.

Too large to enter.

Close enough to look inside.

Everyone froze.

The eye vanished.

A claw struck the gallery mouth.

Stone exploded.

The entire tunnel shook.

One survivor screamed.

Darius moved forward.

Vance caught his arm.

"No."

Darius looked at him.

"It cannot enter."

"Then don’t give it a reason to collapse the entrance."

Another claw hit.

Crack.

Kael looked upward.

The System screamed warnings.

[STRUCTURAL FAILURE RISK: HIGH]

[GEOTHERMAL PRESSURE: RISING]

The seven had been safe from the Ash-King because the entrance was too narrow.

That safety was ending.

Galahad shouted, "Back route?"

One survivor pointed deeper.

"Collapsed."

Vance’s expression hardened.

"How far?"

"Twenty yards."

"Can clear?"

"No."

Kael looked toward the entrance.

Ash.

Claw.

Stone breaking.

Then toward the collapse deeper inside.

Trapped.

Again.

Sera whispered, "Eight."

Kael looked at her.

She was not counting.

Not exactly.

She was staring at the quiver.

Then at the collapse.

Then at the Ash-King.

Her face had changed.

Not panic.

Calculation under fear.

The third claw strike hit.

A slab fell from the ceiling.

Darius caught it with Aura and redirected it enough that it smashed beside him instead of onto three survivors.

Pain crossed his face.

Shoulder.

The wound reopened.

Kael saw blood.

Vance saw it too.

Galahad looked at the trapped seven.

Then at the blocked rear passage.

Then at the monster outside.

No clean route.

No easy retreat.

The rescue had reached the place every plan had been trying to avoid.

Galahad’s voice cut through the shaking gallery.

"Clear the collapse."

Vance stared.

"With what?"

"Hands if we have to."

Kael drew his sword.

Not for the Ash-King.

For stone.

"We start."

And this time nobody asked whether the fight had begun.

Because the Ash-King was outside.

Seven survivors were behind them.

The mountain was breaking around all of them.

And surviving the next ten minutes would require more than killing anything.

It would require building a way out while death tried to tear the entrance open.