"When you can't run and you can't hide, the only thing left is to make the other side regret finding you."
***
The chittering started low. Like insects in summer grass. But it carried an intelligence that made Rhys's skin crawl.
Multiple voices. Overlapping in a language of clicks and guttural barks that echoed off the tunnel walls. The sounds bounced and distorted until they seemed to come from everywhere at once. From ahead. From behind. From cracks in the stone that shouldn't have been large enough to hide anything.
Getting closer with each passing moment.
Rhys had grown up on the border. Had spent his childhood listening to goblin raids probe the village palisade for weaknesses. He knew the difference between mindless aggression and coordinated hunting.
This was the latter.
These things were talking to each other. Planning. Spreading out to cover escape routes that didn't exist.
