Jason heard the scream and his blood turned to ice, he knew this could only mean one thing. They had either found something or they were in danger.
He rounded the corner at a sprint, his boots skidding on the black stone, and found Ylva trapped in a cage of writhing roots. The green tendrils coiled around her arms and legs and throat, tightening with every breath she took, and more were already rising from the floor to join the assault. Her claws had drawn ichor from a dozen severed branches but for every one she cut two more took its place.
He looked past her and Mae was gone.
The corridor where she had been walking was empty except for the impaled corpses and the restless roots that slithered across the stone like snakes searching for prey.
Something had taken her, this much was clear, the disturbed dust on the ground and the snapped branches near the ceiling told him everything he needed to know.
