The cleft in the ridge swallowed them whole. One moment they were under a pale sky, the next they were inside a narrow gorge where the light died quickly. Only the faint glow of the pawprints ahead showed the way, each print etched into the rock like a tiny moon.Their footsteps echoed off the stone walls. Water dripped somewhere far ahead, slow and steady. The air was cool and smelled of iron and damp pine sap. Ava’s breath fogged before her face.“Feels like a throat,” Rowan muttered behind her. “Like we’re walking into something’s mouth.”“Cheerful,” Mara said, adjusting the strap of her quiver. “Try not to say that again.”Caleb ran his fingers lightly along the wall as he walked. “These weren’t carved by chance,” he murmured. “This passage was made.”Silas kept a steady pace at the front, every sense straining. “By who?”“The same ones who built the Stone,” Caleb said. “Or… before even them.”Ava stayed close to Silas, her palm still tingling faintly with the Stone’s energy. The
The Stone towered above them like the spine of a buried god. Up close, its spirals were not carvings but veins of light running through the rock, pulsing in time with some hidden heartbeat. The air was warmer here, heavy with the scent of lichen and iron. Every sound — their breathing, the scrape of boots — seemed muted, as if the monolith absorbed it.Caleb’s eyes shone. “It’s not just stone,” he murmured. “It’s alive.”Ava lifted her hand toward it, feeling the hum resonate with the mark on her palm. “It’s been waiting.”Silas stayed a step back, eyes flicking between the guardians and the Stone. “Don’t touch it yet,” he said quietly. “We don’t know what it does.”Rowan crouched to run his fingers over the ground. The pale stones underfoot were smooth and warm, etched with claw-shaped sigils. “Feels like a temple,” he whispered. “Creepy temple, but still.”Mara kept her bow half-raised. “Let’s not forget we’re still in the middle of nowhere surrounded by rock statues that might deci
The forest was still dark when Silas shook them awake. A thin mist clung to the ground, curling around boots and packs. Somewhere far off an owl called once and fell silent. No one wanted to linger.They moved like ghosts, each packing in silence. Mara tightened the strap on her quiver. Caleb rolled up his bedroll with slow, stiff fingers. Rowan yawned so wide his jaw popped but said nothing. Lyra and Jude were already standing, eyes fixed on the black line of hills ahead.Ava winced as she tightened the bandage on her palm. The burn had dulled overnight but left a faint shimmer under her skin. She shoved the dagger into its sheath and stood, feeling its weight like a secret heartbeat.Silas passed by, checking everyone’s packs, his eyes already scanning the trees. In the grey light his expression was unreadable. When he stopped beside Ava, he handed her a canteen. “Drink. It’ll be a long climb.”She managed a small smile. “You sound like my coach.”He almost smiled back. “You’re terr
The sun had barely dipped below the tree line when they started moving. The air turned cooler, sharper, full of resin and damp moss. Long shadows reached across the forest floor, swallowing their footprints as quickly as they made them.Lyra — that was what the older rogue had finally given as her name — led the way with sure, silent steps. Jude, the younger, followed close behind, his bow across his back but his fingers brushing the string every so often. Silas and Mara kept a few paces behind them, flanking Ava and Caleb. Rowan, as usual, brought up the rear with a muttered complaint about “midnight hikes.”Ava adjusted the strap of her pack, the dagger pressing like a hidden heartbeat against her thigh. Her palm ached beneath its bandage. The bond felt stronger at dusk; whispers stirred at the edge of her mind like wind through reeds.Silas caught her eye briefly. “Stay in the middle,” he murmured. “If anything happens, you drop and stay down. Understand?”She nodded, tucking a str
A thin beam of dawn light slid through a gap in the shack’s roof, painting a pale stripe across the dusty floor. Outside, the creek murmured softly over stones, a sound so ordinary it felt strange after the Hollow’s constant hum. Birds were singing somewhere in the pines. The real world had returned, but the smell of ash still clung to their clothes.Silas sat on a low stool near the hearth, elbows on his knees, eyes fixed on Ava. He hadn’t slept. His whole body was tense, like a bowstring drawn but not released. Every so often his gaze flicked to her bandaged hand, then to her face, as if to confirm she was still breathing.Ava stirred, blinking herself awake. For a heartbeat she thought she was still in the Hollow. The shack’s runes glimmered faintly in the half-light, echoing her dream. She reached for the dagger out of habit, but it lay on the floor beside her, inert and dark.“You’re awake.” Silas’s voice was quiet, rough from disuse. “How do you feel?”She pushed herself upright
The archway shimmered like a dying star, its silver edges fraying into ash. Beyond it, dawn bled pale pink across the real world’s sky, so close Ava could almost smell pine and wet earth instead of the Hollow’s scorched-iron stench. Yet every step seemed to stretch the distance, the path a living, twisting vein of black soil.Silas didn’t slow. His fur was slick with sweat and ash, his massive body quivering under Ava’s weight. She clutched the dagger to her chest, knuckles white, her cut palm throbbing with every heartbeat. Behind them the monolith’s roar rose again — not a sound but a low-frequency vibration rattling their teeth, a predator’s growl big enough to fill the world.“Caleb!” Mara’s voice cracked. “It’s shrinking!”“I know!” The mage stumbled, lips chalk-white, eyes fever-bright. He dragged his knife through the ground, muttering a half-choked chant. Each rune flickered out almost as soon as it appeared. “It’s fighting me!”The Hollow surged one last trick: voices floated