The tunnel was cold and wet. The air smelled like old blood and rust.
Vael moved ahead, his shadows trailing close. It was quiet down here. Even the whispers had faded.
Lira stayed sharp, bow in hand. "Where does this lead?"
The man didn't look back. "Far from them."
Behind them, a faint sound—metal hitting stone. The soldiers were still coming.
Vael spoke low. "Who are they?"
The man sighed. "Gravehounds. They hunt people like you."
Lira's voice was tight. "Why?"
"To kill you."
The tunnel shook.
A growl rose from the dark—deep and low.
Something else was waiting down here. And it wasn't human.