The crevice had spared them for now, but Caleb knew the reprieve wouldn't last. His chest heaved as he crouched on the ledge beside Gorrin, sweat mingling with the grime of battle. His body trembled with both exhaustion and the faint after-burn of Riftenergy still sparking inside him. He'd never pushed himself this far before, not in training, not even against Lys. Every muscle screamed, but the silence pressing in around them was somehow worse than the chase itself.
The cavern stretched forward like a hollow throat. Veins of faintly glowing ore snaked through the walls, bathing the stone in ghostly light. It was dim, but after the suffocating black of the tunnels behind them, it felt almost like dawn. Caleb dragged a hand across his face, smearing dirt and dried blood. His breathing slowed, but his thoughts didn't.
"We should… we should keep moving," he said, breaking the silence. His voice sounded small in the vastness of the cavern. "If we stop too long, they'll—"
"They'll circle around us," Gorrin finished, standing slowly. His massive shoulders cast a looming shadow across the faint light. His expression was carved in stone, but his eyes were alert, scanning the passages ahead. "A Cragfang pack doesn't rely only on speed or numbers. They use the tunnels themselves. They know these caves better than any Riftborn."
Caleb shivered, not from cold but from the weight of Gorrin's words. He remembered those glowing eyes chasing them through the dark, the claws that scraped stone only a breath behind him. The thought of that whole pack still alive, regrouping, waiting for them—it dug into his chest worse than fear.
"Cut us off," Caleb muttered, realization sinking in. "That's what you're saying."
"That's what I'm saying." Gorrin crouched, pressing his hand against the dirt. For a moment he closed his eyes, like he was listening. Then he nodded to himself. "They're not far. The vibrations tell me they're already searching the upper tunnels."
Caleb's heart skipped. He straightened quickly, trying to shake off the fatigue that still clawed at his limbs. "Then what are we waiting for? Let's go before they—"
"Calm yourself," Gorrin snapped. His voice was rough but not unkind. He lifted his gaze, hard and steady. "Panic is their ally. They want you reckless. Running blind in the dark gets you killed faster than claws."
Caleb swallowed hard and forced his shoulders back. "Right. Calm. I can do that." He glanced down at his trembling hands and added quietly, "Probably."
The older man almost smirked, though it vanished as quickly as it came. He turned toward the cavern's heart, where two paths branched ahead. One dropped steeply into shadow, the stone slick with some unidentifiable sheen. The other curled upward into a jagged ridge that overlooked a wide, sheer drop. Gorrin raised a finger toward the ridge.
"That way. Always take the high ground when you're hunted."
Caleb didn't argue. His legs ached, but he followed close, stepping carefully along the narrow ridge. The drop yawning to their left was vast and bottomless, the faint glow of the ore doing nothing to reveal what lurked below. Caleb forced himself not to look down.
His thoughts spun instead. He thought of Lys, of how raw and uncontrollable his power had been then. He thought of the way his spear had split that Cragfang's skull only moments ago. He thought of the strange, electric hum of the Riftenergy that sometimes obeyed him and sometimes didn't. Would it be enough if the pack found them again? Or would he die with crude spikes and broken spears as his legacy?
The air shifted. Gorrin froze, holding up a hand. Caleb stopped too, straining his ears. At first there was nothing—just the drip of water and the scrape of their boots. Then it came.
A howl. Low, guttural, echoing down the tunnels like the cry of something ancient. Then another answered. And another. Until the sound swelled into a chorus that rattled the stone itself.
Caleb's blood turned to ice.
"They've picked up our trail again," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Gorrin's jaw tightened. His eyes never left the darkness ahead. "No," he said, his voice grim and certain. "They never lost it."