The hum rolled again, stronger this time, rippling the black surface of the water like something vast had moved beneath it.
Marris grabbed Corwin by the collar and hauled him upright. "You heard me—RUN!"
They plunged into the reeds, water splashing around their legs. The sound was impossible to mask now, but stealth was no longer an option. The humming grew louder, steady, rhythmic, as though the earth's heartbeat had joined Corwin's own.
Liran glanced back and cursed. "Scouts! Two of them—no, three!"
Corwin risked a glance over his shoulder. Lantern light danced through the reeds like will-o'-wisps, growing closer. Bone masks gleamed whenever the light caught them.
Marris led the way, darting through narrow channels where the water was shallower. "Stay in my steps!" she hissed. "Anything off this path will take you under!"
Corwin stumbled after her, mud sucking at his boots. His palm burned like fire now, throwing a faint light that was impossible to hide.
"Cover it!" Ashra snapped.
Corwin tried to wrap the sleeve around his hand, but the light bled through the fabric. The more he fought it, the brighter it became.
"They can see us because of me," he gasped.
"Then make it worth the risk," Ashra shot back.
Ahead, Marris vaulted a rotting log and landed in a clearing of black water that looked bottomless. "Jump!" she barked.
Corwin didn't hesitate. He jumped, boots skimming the surface before sinking knee-deep into freezing muck. Liran and Ashra followed, splashing down just as a sharp whistle cut through the night.
The lantern lights broke apart, fanning around them.
"They're surrounding us!" Liran growled, sword flashing in the faint glow.
"Not yet," Marris said grimly, pulling a knife from her belt. She crouched low, her free hand drawing symbols in the mud.
Ashra recognized them instantly. "You're warding the path."
Marris didn't look up. "Buying us seconds. That's all you're going to get."
The first Carrion scout stepped into view—tall, masked, blade in one hand, lantern in the other. The ward Marris had drawn hissed to life, flaring briefly. The scout hesitated.
Then the second hum rolled across the marsh—deeper, louder.
The water around them shivered.
And from the center of the clearing, bubbles began to rise.
Corwin stared, transfixed, as something enormous stirred below. A shape, half-visible, glowing faintly in the depths.
"The Seal," he breathed.
Ashra grabbed his arm. "Not now!"
But it was too late. The mark on Corwin's hand blazed so bright it turned the night silver.
The Carrion scouts cried out, voices muffled by their bone masks, and charged.
Liran met the first with steel, the clash ringing loud across the marsh. Marris hurled her knife at another, dropping them before they could strike.
Ashra flung a vial into the water—green flame erupted, scattering the reeds with a hiss.
Corwin didn't run. He couldn't. The mark was pulling him toward the glowing shape beneath the surface.
"Corwin!" Ashra shouted.
He stepped forward, into the water, until it reached his waist. The light beneath the surface was dazzling now, a perfect circle of pale gold.
And then, as if answering him, the water parted.
Just for a moment.
A flash of carved stone appeared below—the same sigil as the first anchor, only fractured.
The sound it made when it woke was not a hum but a scream.
The water exploded upward, knocking everyone back. The scouts fell. Marris swore and dragged herself out of the mud.
"Whatever you just did," she spat at Corwin, "you've woken the whole Basin!"
And she was right. All across the marsh, lights flared in the distance—Carrion lanterns, dozens of them, maybe more. The hum became a roar.
Liran hauled Corwin to his feet. "Move!"
They ran, not even caring which direction, just away from the clearing, away from the rising glow behind them.
The marsh itself seemed to twist as they fled. The air grew hotter, the reeds leaning toward them like fingers.
Somewhere behind them, a horn blew—a deep, horrible sound that seemed to shake the stars.
Marris spat into the mud. "They're calling the hunters."
Ashra shot Corwin a look, equal parts fear and fury. "Next time you touch a seal, warn us first."
But Corwin didn't answer.
Because even as they fled, he could still feel it—pulling him, calling him back.
And he knew they'd have to return.
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