We escaped the naval sortie without any other casualties. We headed for the deepest water we could find, and while the Spirit of Retribution and the cutters could stay above us, they didn’t have the means to further assault the ship.
Well, besides the last boulders they tried dropping on us. Thankfully it was much harder to hit a target when it wasn’t just under the waves. We avoided the attacks.
Looking at the charts and the terrain around us, Burdette and I picked a spot to hide. ‘Hide’ was the wrong word, as they could still point right to us, but to go any further would require us to move closer to the surface with the terrain, and I wasn’t willing to surrender an inch of depth.
We were currently deep enough that the weight of the ocean would crush any beings that weren’t protected. Our curse protected us, but however prepared the navy might be they couldn’t prepare for every eventuality. Any fighters on board the ships above us would not only have to be hardy, they’d have to be able to breathe down here, fight, then return to the surface. No way those ships had the water-breathing potions on board to outfit a strike team for that.
They could drop zombies on us, but the Emerald would have to catch up. The same token that let my crew point at my ship let me know exactly where their ships were. The Emerald was too far behind. They wouldn’t catch up before my crews’ time ran out.
Back on the island, I’d felt like I understood their choice to desert. They were only trying to be free, and I couldn’t fault them for that. Now? Now I looked over my damaged ship, bereft of so many crewman, and I cursed the deserter’s names. May they die in excruciating torment on the decks of those they fled to!
I had Burdette perform a muster. It was a mess, of course, as people tried to account for where crewmates were – those missing were dead – and compile a list of the names of the deceased.
The muster revealed some discrepancies in the initial report – some thought dead were present, and some no one had thought of were missing. All told, my initial conclusions were correct. I only had 25 people left with combat abilities. 10 of those only had minor skills, things that made them competent enough to call on but sub-par when matched with a professional.
Thankfully, Phillip had survived – though he had some nasty burns on his left arm – so the command structure I’d created for the fighters wasn’t beheaded. Rather than split into divisions, Phillip martialed all the fighters under himself, with three smaller teams.
Zandar had survived as well. Of course the half-mad spear master had survived. I appreciated the man’s skill, but he unnerved me sometimes.
I’d lost some people to the zombie swarm, but the most casualties were inflicted in the devastating attack with multiple runes. The deck we were mustered on showed the scars if not the blood.
Because a third of the crew was gone, some were standing in their normal positions crowded on the foredeck while most of the main deck stood empty. I directed them to come down and find new spots for their sections in the space of the fallen.
Arnnaith gathered all the notes people had written on, handing me the stack of the names of the departed. I looked through the names in silence while the crew waited. Passively, I checked the morale function on my interface. The Voice of the Crew status was set at Shell Shocked which delayed emotional reactions and morale penalties at the cost of lost efficiency and speed.
The crew had never been better than neutral on morale. They’d started in unhappy and worked up to neutral, but things had been falling for a while now. They’d progressed through sad, miserable, and angry. They were currently at spiteful. Mutinies had happened at this level of morale, though they were more likely in the last two stages: hateful and mutinous.
My interactions with the crew hadn’t changed much for the first several tiers, as my rank and power cowed them. Since they’d become angry, things were much more tense. I had a feeling that if I didn’t address the battle we’d just escaped and the lives we’d lost, more than a few individuals would find themselves at the mutinous stage regardless of the crew average.
I shuffled the sheaf of notes in my hands. “I remember what freedom is. Even now it’s something that I feel dangling in front of me like a carrot, just out of reach.”
Burdette looked at me askance, wondering why I would twist the knife by this choice of words from the man who’d taken their freedom in an exchange they hadn’t had time to consider.
“I want to … to be free again someday.” I shuddered as even saying that seemed to pressure against my oath to Jones. “Last night I wanted to give you lot a reminder of what freedom was like. Some decided that was opening enough to join our pursuers. I won’t berate them now, as I know we all served with them regardless of their decision,” and more and more of you are feeling like they were the noble ones, aren’t you? “But the consequences of those decisions – both my decision to stop and theirs to desert – is that we were caught. Caught by those who promised to hunt us down the moment we existed.”
I gestured at the damage – the holes through the decks and the places where we’d hacked harpoons free. Then I read out the names of everybody we’d lost. Normally, a ship would have a proper ceremony and a burial at sea. Given the large number of dead and the fact they’d all been ‘buried at sea’ to drag zombies down, this was what I thought best. It took far longer to read the list then I imagined. I had to softly clear my throat partly through when my own brained processed that all these names – people that I’d known – were dead and never to be seen again. I couldn’t reclaim the spirits of my former crew over and over again. Once dead, they were gone. Forever.
Finishing the list, I soberly reorganized the papers. The random thought popped into my head that we’d have to reorganize the watch schedule.
“Most of us died today because we never had a chance or a choice to begin with.”
I was intending to say something comforting and inspiring next, wrapping up with a dismissal that promised we would escape and not suffer the way we had today. I was interrupted as general grumbling suddenly shifted to angry murmurs and someone, emboldened, raised their voice.
“They died because our Captain didn’t know what he was doing!”
Another person – female – yelled in anonymity from the back “Some cursed legend! A young buck still wet behind the ears!”
I didn’t flinch when the attacks found the chinks in my armor. Instead, my eyes turned hard and brought my leadership skill levels to bear in ensuring that my next words cut the grumbling to the marrow and dissuaded any further outbursts.
“If you lot think that you would be better off working under Jones’ heel on the Perdition, I can make the arrangements.”
Silence greeted my threat. They might have gotten used to me, but most of them had known me as a deck hand first, a freshly-minted cursed Captain second. They’d been hearing ghost tales and horror stories of Jones and his ship their whole lives.
Not that I would give any of them to Jones. I didn’t feel like he could lay a direct claim to them, either. He might control me, but it was only through me that my crew followed him. They didn’t know that though.
“I was never any more than a man who loved the sea, but I found myself where fate led me and by Callis, I’m going to seize control of fate before it leads me anywhere further! I’ve not set out to be a harsh man but I’ll have it said that I won’t tolerate any sedition on board my boat. Clear?” There were no responses to that but downcast eyes and sullen glares. I took the lack of opposition as assent.
“We’re going to lay low until we’re far away from the net we found ourselves in. Take a few minutes to process, grieve those we’ve lost, write it down in those journals you all seem to be keeping if that helps. We’re going to escape, tend our wounds, and live to see the sun rise. Dismissed!”
Well, not exactly my most motivational speech ever. I usually departed the deck immediately after dismissing the crew, as I’d seen older Captains do it that way. Hanging around made the crew uncertain about getting back to work – or back to loafing. Now, I felt like I was running from the accusations of my own crew.
When we arrived at our destination, the darkest depth Burdette and I could find, we were surprised to find that it wasn’t entirely dark. There was a slight reddish glow. Rhistel and I found ourselves at the prow looking closer.
“Molten rock,” Rhistel said, and suddenly it clicked for me and I understood what I was seeing.
“This won’t be the deepest place in the area forever,” I said, looking out over the field of semi-liquid stone spreading out into the gloom before us. The heat from the molten blood from the heart of the earth fought with cold pressure from the ocean. The result was a dark plain of rapidly cooled rock that roiled when magma pushed under it. In some places the magma flowed, producing the light we’d first seen. In others spurts of it broke through the thin surface and caused a small explosion of bubbles and … smoke?
These things drew the eye so effectively, I nearly missed the other battle that was going on. With one of the spurts of magma breaking through came a golem, an elemental born from supersaturated mana in a zone. It didn’t react to the water as fast as the natural magma did, indeed the flow around it seemed bolstered by its presence.
Its presence, however, wasn’t tolerated by the other mana-born manifestations that claimed the deep. Water elementals were either drawn to this area or born here, and they descended wherever one of the golems appeared.
“This place … probably isn’t safe …” Rhistel said hesitantly.
“No,” I agreed. “It certainly isn’t. But the surface is worse for us right now. This place just needs to tolerate us for another 2-3 hours, then we can go without being traced.” In 2-3 hours, all my deserting crewmen would have their time lapsed to return. Of course, they could try to return in a last ditch effort, but I didn’t think the navy would let them go, and if they somehow returned to the ship I would give them even less mercy.
They’d had their chance. Their right to freedom didn’t exempt them from the blood of their fellows.
Suddenly I got an unexpected prompt.
Congratulations! You have discovered an unknown, significant location! This place is a mana fount and elemental disruption.
+10,000 XP for discovery. Cartography skill unlocked
Would you like to name this area?
I’d heard of explorers who searched out unknown places, but on land such places usually had a reason for remaining unfound that made exploration innately hazardous. The seas were scarcely explored even by aquatic races, which led to us stumbling upon this place.
However, looking over the primal landscape I couldn’t think of anything that would fit it. Nor did I think it needed a name. Let it remain a place isolated from human interface.
A moment after declining the option, I received the prompt:
Location named: Ehtelë melehtë
What? Wait, that’s elvish …
I turned accusingly to the elf standing by my side. “You named it?”
“Of course!” Rhistel said, confused at my reaction. “I was credited a small amount of XP for my involvement in the discovery, a few moments later I received the option to name it. Whatever is the matter?”
So, he got it when I passed. Oh well. “What’s that name mean?”
“Loosely translated, it means ‘fountain of mana’. I thought it appropriate, given the world described the place as a mana fount, and the evidence of elementals feeding off the byproducts of creation.”
“Right. Suppose that’s better than anything I’d come up with.”
The unexpected rewards for the discovery were nice. The cartography skill could be useful for those trying to create nautical charts – and I had a much better skillset to provide accurate details on dangerous waters than most harbor pilots. While I didn’t expect I’d be selling such charts to make a fortune, I would be more than happy to start keeping notes for my own use. Vague charts were one reason why I’d been caught in the navy’s trap.
And XP was always nice to get. Hang on, with this XP, and what I’d gained for killing that team beneath the Athair …
I could purchase Domain.
I couldn’t even consider allocating points into other abilities until I’d fulfilled Jones’ order to get the skill, so I didn’t fight the compulsion to get it immediately. 150,000 XP disappeared, replaced by a growing awareness, a dizzying rush of perspective, a …
“Captain?” Rhistel asked, catching me a moment later as I fell, forgetting where my body was.
Stolen novel; please report.
“I’m fine,” I said. “New ability … it’s a lot.”
Domain brought me an awareness of both my ship and everything within its sphere. I could tell who was on board and where. I could sense another elemental clawing upwards through the magma below. I could even sense the tiny, curious sea life that lingered on the edge of the elemental battlefield.
“Wow,” I said. I could choose how narrow my focus was, but I didn’t need to stop using the ability. I had the capacity to passively absorb all of it. “There’s a lot of people who’d love to have even a minor version of this skill …” And already I wanted to upgrade it. As large as my ship’s sphere of influence was, I knew that it didn’t mean I was omniscient. The sea was a big place, and it swallowed up my little sphere like it was nothing.
I startled at the voice suddenly in my head.
“Hmmm. I didn’t expect you to make it out of there with your ship intact. Well, mostly intact.”
I motioned for Rhistel to give me some space. “Did I prove myself?”
“Prove yourself? Prove what? Your utter lack of strategic sense? If I wind up pulling you to my crew after all this, at least I know what not to do with you.”
“I was facing prepared enemies much more powerful than me …”
“Power’s great,” Jones interrupted. “But you of all people should know that levels and a plan don’t always dictate the victor. How many fighters three times your level have you killed? No, I’d expect someone with the perk of Trickster to know how to pull something over a powerful opponent. Instead, your own perk led you wrong. You got caught up in outmaneuvering them, trying to be so clever, and wound up getting a punch in the taint from everyone there.”
He was right. I’d already acknowledged my attempts at strategy were a failure. I’d only plucked a successful escape from the jaws of doom when I ignored trying to make the Death’s Consort win the day and struck off on my own. Did that mean I should forget the captaincy and just fight on my own?
“Is that what you want, lad?” Jones asked. “I could make use of you as a fighter like that.”
No. No! I was not going to put myself further under Jones’ thumb by surrendering what I had. I would make this work. I had to if I wanted to be free.
Jones snorted. “At least you got the ability I required. Dragging your feet you might be, but at least you’re shaping up.”
“Are we free from the Broken Isles? The fleet here will pin us down in a week if we’re stuck in the area.”
“Don’t let any more of your crew walk off, and maybe you won’t be stuck with eels coiling around you!” Jones retorted. “There’s not a thing in existence that can rival the power we have over the ships stuck on the surface. Start using your strengths, boy. I’ll be watching.”
I felt Jones’ presence leave and sagged against the gunwale, only to realize Rhistel was hanging around. “What is it?”
“I thought I’d remain at hand, Captain, in case you required assistance.”
“I’m fine, Rhistel.”
“Mmm-hmm. Have you decided where we’re going after losing our pursuit?”
I slapped the gunwale with my hand. Always it was ‘where next’ and ‘what now’! “No, I haven’t given it any thought Rhistel. If we make it out of here I’d say that’s as good a first step as any!”
The elf remained unfazed. “If you don’t mind suggestions, there’s an island about 100 miles south-east of our last port that I would be interested in stopping at.”
“Our last port call didn’t exactly go swimmingly, and I’m disinclined to repeat it. Why is your island so special?”
“First, it should be uninhabited. Second … I got a quest tied to it.”
“A quest?”
“I know personal quests might not be of importance to your patron’s efforts,” Rhistel said hurriedly, “But if you’d give me a chance …”
“Talk to me.” I said. A personal quest? For most the crew, I probably wouldn’t have gone out of my way for it, but I’d been hoping Rhistel would get a class like Menagerie Master to control sea life.
“I spoke with some researchers back at the port who told me about this island called Cuffmagin used as a research base …”
“I thought you said ‘uninhabited’?”
“Yes, Captain, it is. The island was never hospitable to settling due to large numbers of venomous snakes residing in it, but some researchers wished to study their poison and healing and set up a research base. However, a separate experiment caused a disaster.
“Someone introduced avian swine to the island, and the beasts had no trouble with the local serpents and their population quickly got out of hand. It was an ecological disaster. Nature attempted to remedy the situation with wolf-bats entering the area to prey on the swine. The wolf bats weren’t immune to the snakes however, so the researchers were very interested to see the ecological results. The local team unfortunately perished and the replacement team was never heard from.”
“Let me get this straight,” I said. “Flying pigs took over an island, then wolf-bats took over the island, now no one knows what’s going on? Call me paranoid, but I want to know what took over the island from the wolf-bats.”
“Very astute. The researchers didn’t consider another species, thinking it outside the realm of possibilities as there was already a three-species battle for control. My quest, however, hints otherwise.”
“What’s your quest objective?”
“To restore the balance of nature on the island. Perhaps it was my own suspicions, but it hints at unknown agents involved.”
“And there’s no reward given?”
“You know as well as I that quests of this magnitude have incredibly various rewards based on success and performance.”
“Let me rephrase then: what are you hoping for?”
The elf hesitated. “I want my profession back. The way my people stripped me of mine prevents me from reacquiring one without the involvement of a powerful being or specific quest. This could be my chance!”
And I was willing to take a detour give him that chance. “We’ll head straight there. Or rather, that will be our destination after skulking around for a bit to make sure we aren’t followed.”
We waited by the volatile mana fount/underwater volcano as the clock ticked away. Soon we approached the 24 hour mark from when my crew had departed the ship. Everyone was on edge, waiting to see if there’d be a last minute attack from the ships directly above us. The Emerald was still lagging behind, we had at least an hour before they arrived with their zombies.
Then I started receiving notifications, and it was the only time I was relieved to see the notices on the death of my crew. In a group I got three, a minute later five more as another group left the ship. They hadn’t all done so at once. After 10 minutes I had fifteen notifications of crew deaths.
15.
There were 16 deserters.
One was still on the Emerald. As I waited and wondered, I looked over the death notices and saw that the one missing was Debra.
Debra, the consort-turned-cook who’d organized the desertion. The most competent negotiator among the group and apparently ruthless to boot. If I was in charge of the naval operation and had to choose one person to try and save, she’d be it.
I’d been last off the ship last night, and that was 24 hours ago. Debra had been gone longer than the curse should allow.
As much as I wanted her gone, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit of hope that she broke free of the curse. If they could break her free, that meant there was hope for all of us.
As if hoping for her freedom was the thing that condemned her, the indicator pointing me to her spot on the Emerald vanished. I received the notification of her demise.
Sighing heavily, I turned to give the orders to depart. Debra’s death had been delayed by about 15 minutes, but she had fallen to the curse just like the others.
Once the ships could no longer track us, slipping away was easy. It didn’t take long before I received notices:
You have lost an engagement!
Note: for escaping an engagement against an enemy with a combined threat level 23 levels higher than your own, you receive +35,000 XP.
I got 30,000 XP for sinking the cutter with the mages off of Antarus. Losing engagements earned a stiff penalty, it seemed. But then, I still got XP even though I lost! The massive disparity in power probably factored into that.
You have progressed the quest chain Tall Tales! Facing down and escaping foes so much stronger than you is neigh unbelievable, but you can bet the story will spread!
I didn’t mind advancing that one, it was the other more morbid ones that bothered me.
I didn’t surface the ship as we escaped, instead swimming up myself whenever I wanted a peek of our surroundings. Domain moved with me, rather than the ship, but it only extended to the surface. It was a water-based ability, and when I treaded water on the surface, I only had half my sphere of awareness.
We traveled to Cuffmagin Island for Rhistel’s quest, though I passed it off as an opportunity to gain some XP from beasts for the others.
Upon our arrival, we circled the island once underwater and again on the surface. I was surprised to find the craggy place was filled with tunnels and holes. Rhistel told me that the researchers had postulated the island was old, and had formed rapidly. Now it was crumbling apart and falling into the ocean – though still slowly enough to not be an immediate hazard.
We had some flying pigs come explore us when we surfaced, and Sadeo’s teams got some easy XP doing target practice on them. We didn’t see any evidence of wolf-bats, but those were more nocturnal, no doubt in the islands many caves right now.
Rhistel was excited, talking to anyone who’d listen about the island and nearly bouncing with eagerness to be on shore. Interestingly enough, Arnnaith was tailing him. The elf and half-elf hadn’t gotten along before, and still seemed to be ignoring the other, but tolerated each other’s presence.
“Can we make landfall there, Captain?” Rhistel asked. I immediately shook my head, and talked Rhistel into accepting a spot that wasn’t nearly so hazardous. The Death’s Consort was submerged until she rested on the bottom just offshore. Burdette and Abner would lead a work detail on shore with sufficient guards to try and grab materials to make repairs on the ship. Phillip would lead the remaining fighters. Their goal was XP and food, though I intended to hang onto them long enough to make sure there weren’t immediate dangers.
It didn’t have anything to do with wanting sane company while assisting Rhistel on his nature walk. Nope.
We hopped overboard in our parties and trudged through the surf to the shore, where we immediately had to begin climbing. The island was steep, with lots of ups and downs. Rhistel suggested we start with the research base to see their notes. I agreed, mostly wanting to check that the place really was abandoned.
Hiking didn’t bring many excitements, except when Phillip stepped on one of the venomous snakes the island was known for. He jumped well away from it before it had time to strike, and Zander killed it. Phillip refused to be jibed about the height of his jump or his pitch while doing so, citing a lack of poison in his veins as proof of his agility.
The research building was more of a hut, but it was cleared of vegetation and had charms placed about it designed to keep snakes away. The interior was empty and dusty, evidence no one had been around in a while.
Rhistel dove into the researcher’s notes with gusto, and even Arnnaith followed his lead. I let Phillip and his team go hunt while I stood guard over the nerds. I was all for study and knowledge, but there was only so much I could take on ecological theory and the potential conflicts of magical and non-magical beasts I could stomach in an hour.
Rhistel discovered the time the researchers went missing based on when they stopped recording their meticulous notes. All three of them disappeared at the same time, to boot.
“They observed a decrease in the wolf-bat population beyond what any interactions with the serpents could explain. They left to explore the nesting sites and never returned.”
“Were probably eaten by the wolf-bats as they tried to count them.” Arnnaith commented.
“As far as rational explanations go, it’s just as likely they were injured by the wildlife as hurt in a landslide or cave-in. I personally doubt that those reasons would spark a quest to restore the balance on the island for me, as it seems the island will balance itself out with time.”
“That one diary said the pigs were back on the rise.”
“Yes,” Rhistel said. “Which makes me wonder what would eat the wolf-bats but not the avian swine.”
“Why are you assuming there’s another predator?”
“Because,” Rhistel said in exasperation, “Not only is it the most likely cause for a quest, but it’s the safest assumption for us. Better we’re looking for another predator than be ambushed by one.”
“I like that reasoning,” I pitched in. After a moment, Arnnaith nodded too.
After some discussion, we decided to head to the tunnels ourselves to see if there was something abnormal there, or if we’d find out that three bumbling researchers had tripped over each other off a cliff. We climbed upwards first for the vantage points and found a distinct lack of abnormality at the tunnels, which were being used as nesting sites for the wolf-bats. They were packed full of the predators. Thankfully, Rhistel had enough common sense not to try and get closer, as we couldn’t defend ourselves from the number inside.
Our exploration of the caves and tunnels moving closer to sea level showed that something was abnormal, however, and it might have started with the first cave we saw.
“This cave is nearly unoccupied,” Rhistel said.
“There’s two over there!” Arnnaith pointed.
“Yes, but the first was stuffed! We couldn’t even count them! Why are they packing into those so tightly when there’s prime territory here?”
“Could there be more snakes closer to sea level?”
“Not that I’ve observed, and wolf-bats would defend their dens even if there were.”
“You think this could be the result of your mysterious new predator?”
“I suspect so, but the lack of evidence of other predation is odd. No bodies show evidence of some other beast.”
“Fewer beasts?” Arnnaith said. “Maybe just one? That brings its kills to a nest?”
“And that nest is at the bottom of the island,” Rhistel picked up the thought. “Worth exploring!”
Mmm-hmm. ‘Worth exploring’ meant ‘lots of vertical hiking’. I was no slouch on endurance, but Rhistel had me beat and Arnnaith had both mixed blood and the energy of youth.
The lower tunnels showed signs of past habitation, but the dens were all abandoned. Rhistel was getting more excited, even if he became quieter and stealthier as we snooped around. I wondered what he was like before his exile.
After exploring several vacant dens with no apparent remains or evidence of violence, we decided to explore a tunnel a bit deeper. This resulted in Rhistel and I stooped and hunched while Arnnaith grinned mockingly at us.
The tunnel we chose forked vertically before long, one end curling upwards in a way we couldn’t traverse and one bending down. We went down. There we entered a small cavern shaped like a bubble with several pools of water where the sea flooded the porous island.
“That’s the end of our potential trail.” I said.
“This predator could be amphibious,” Arnnaith suggested.
“Unlikely,” Rhistel said. “However we are uniquely situated to explore the watery tunnels. Any objections, Captain?”
“No,” I said. “But if we are talking about something that’s amphibious and powerful enough to carry its food to an underwater den, then you’re not going first. I lead the way.”
“Very well.”
I’d lost many of my weapons during the recent fight, but had restocked with the many spare weapons left without anyone to wield them. I debated between my trident and a sword for a moment before deciding the sword would be more versatile in the volcanic tunnels.
As soon as I dipped back into the water my land timer reset, and I also got access to my domain again. These tunnels connected to the sea, and I could sense every flooded cavern within my sphere.
Including the cavern that was filled with something living and absolutely huge. My shock at discovering it bled into relief at the thought something that big couldn’t possibly navigate these tunnels …
An arm like a kraken’s slipped free from another tunnel and dove into the one leading towards me.
“Back!” I yelled, startling my companions as I scrambled out of the water. “Get out! OUT!”
I scooped up Arnnaith because he was moving too slowly back up the incline. Rhistel was behind me.
Behind us, the tentacle burst from the water and spun around in a move that would have grabbed everyone in the cavern. Coming up empty, the tentacle hesitated and I analyzed it.
Name:
Charybdis (Juvenile)
Before I had the chance to wonder what the devil a juvenile Charybdis was, every pool in the cavern surged, flooding the place. Out of each pool erupted grasping tentacles.
I redoubled my speed. When I had the chance, I used my strength to throw the boy up the remaining slope to the tunnel we’d first crawled through, which he rapidly scampered down. The tentacles were questing after us. Whatever the beast was, it had been reaching through the tunnels to pull convenient snacks from the caves the wolf-bats were making their dens in. We had to get out.
One tentacle surged past the rest, past Rhistel and me towards the cave entrance. Thinking of Arnnaith, I hacked at it with my sword. The tentacle immediately withdrew, but thrashed about as it did, knocking both me and Rhistel down and shaking the tunnel. A moment later, several tentacles groped about the area where we’d just been.
“Come on!” I shouted to Rhistel, who was taking too much time looking at the thing and not enough time moving his legs. I ducked into the tunnel towards the den we entered through …
And felt the whole hillside shake as the Charybdis thrashed it with displeasure and annoyance. A moment later a shower of dirt knocked me down and buried my legs. Crawling forward desperately, I pulled myself free and burst into the den and out towards the free air where Arnnaith waited.
Rhistel wasn’t behind me.
I looked back towards the cave in and my heart sank. We hadn’t all escaped.