Chapter 30 – Coming Together

Vikka crouched in the narrow, dirt-choked tunnel, her claws biting into the packed earth above. The air was going stale with the musk of kobolds pressed together in the cramped space. She pressed up a trembling palm to the dirt again, forcing a mental pulse to Sylven: "Tell me when you're close. We'll start clawing up on your mark."

Above, Sylven wiped a streak of sweat and sawdust from his brow, his ears straining for the faint scraping from below. He knocked three times against the packed earth beneath him. Silence. Then a series of knocks back—wrong again.

Vikka's voice cut into his thoughts, frantic through the bond. "We're going in circles, Sylven. This is the third time we've overshot. The dirt changes too suddenly down here—I don't know where the right spot is anymore!"

Sylven clenched his jaw, his fingers tightening around the edge of the hole. They were running out of time.

Beside him, Sela exhaled, thinking fast. "If the dirt settles whenever they dig between different layers, then the tunnel might be slanting too much—it’s throwing off our alignment.'

"It's slanting," Vikka confirmed bitterly through Sylven. "The ground got too dense, so we had to adjust. We're not under you anymore."

Brynnal let out a low curse. "Then we have to—"

"Dig sideways now," Sylven muttered. He gritted his teeth and turned his thoughts fully toward Vikka.

"Forget everything from the last hour. We're going to start fresh."

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Vikka pressed her claws into her temples, fighting a growing headache. This was a mess. They had been so sure they were close—only to realize the tunnel wasn't aligned at all.

Tesska groaned. "So what now? We dig another tunnel next to this one?"

"No," Vikka said, shaking her head. "We dig sideways. Carefully. A little at a time."

Tibbin flopped onto the dirt, his nostrils flaring from stress and stale air. "We could also just dig randomly and hope for the best."

Nynka elbowed him. "Not helping. Keep digging."

The male kobold groaned, but his claws were already jabbing into the earth, his tail wagging with nervous energy. "Just saying, sometimes chaos works."

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An hour later, Sylven tapped. This time, the answer came almost immediately.

Vikka pressed her ear to the dirt. She heard something faint but focused—small, muffled voices overhead. A spark of hope caught in her chest.

“Hold off,” she hissed, shooting a glance at Nynka, Rena, and Sidhe, who had their claws poised to break through. “We don’t want any of the Shy tumbling down before they’re ready.”

The others grumbled but pulled back.

Above them, through the bond, Sylven sent a concentrated pulse.

“We’ve chipped away at the last bit of wood. There’s only the floor coming between us.”

Vikka exhaled. The tunnel would be steep for the Shy—if they broke through too soon, anyone near the hole could take a nasty fall.

"Everyone back up!" she ordered. "We’re right under them. This is it."

Tesska and Nynka scrambled away as Vikka carefully clawed the last inches through. The dirt gave way with a soft crunch, and a sharp gust of air swept down as a tiny hole opened above them. A moment of silence followed—then Sylven's wide eyes peered down through the gap.

They had done it.

Vikka let out a breathless laugh, her claws trembling slightly from the effort. For a heartbeat, no one spoke. Then suddenly, their exhaustion melted away in a wave of victorious relief.

"We did it," Tesska hooted, almost disbelieving, her voice barely audible over the sound of crumbling earth.

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The ground trembled beneath Sylven’s feet, a low rumble shuddering through the packed earth. A claw punched through the last layer of dirt, scattering fine dust into the air. Sylven stumbled back, coughing as the earth below him shifted. The hole was no bigger than a pebble at first, but within moments, more claws widened it, tearing at the loose earth until an opening the size of his head emerged.

The Shy backed away as loose soil crumbled inward, cascading into the darkness below.

A pair of eyes peered through from the shadows below—large, slitted, and gleaming amber.

Sylven froze.

From the tunnel below, Vikka’s voice rose in a hushed, urgent whisper. "We’re through. Don’t startle them."

This was easier said than done. Except for Sylven, all that the Shy heard coming out from the hole were harsh yips and sharp hisses. They instinctively tensed, their small hands gripping their improvised weapons or each other. The air in the cramped space grew thick with tension. No one moved.

A beat later, the hole was torn just a little wider—enough to show part of a kobold snout, then a set of sharp teeth, then an entire scaled face.

Sylven was the first to exhale. "Ok, we talked about this,” he reminded the others. “They may be kobolds, but they shouldn’t hurt us."

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Vikka's pupils dilated as she looked up at the group of tiny figures above her. From behind, Nynka muttered, "They're... smaller than I thought."

From above, Ilkin squinted. "They're... bigger than I remember. Too big."

The two groups stared at each other for a long, awkward, wary moment. Brynnal's hand hovered near his belt knife, while Sela's fists clenched and unclenched at her sides.

Another clawed hand emerged, grasping the edge of the opening, and with a final heave, a scaled snout breached the hole, a long, forked tongue flicking up as the figure huffed out a breath, steaming up the inside of the cabinet.

The Shy and the kobolds could now look at each other without barriers or shadows between them—no mounted chases, no hunting or hiding, just the stark reality of two vastly different people staring across an uneasy divide.

Brynnal's posture remained stiff, his stance subtly shifting to something defensive. The old warrior had seen kobolds on the hunt before, but never like this. Never just standing there. Never this close.

For their part, the kobolds seemed just as disoriented by the sight of the Shy.

Tesska, covered in dirt from the dig, narrowed her eyes up at the group. "Huh. They seem more like little humans than I expected."

"Soft-looking, too,” Nynka scoffed. “Not like they could have put up much of a fight."

Tibbin licked his lips and murmured, "Bet I could fit one in my mouth."

"But could you keep it there?" Rena tickled the back of his neck, causing him to reflexively stick his tongue out.

Tibbin grinned at his teammate, but the rest were still tense.

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With the breakthrough, the rough hole in the cabinet floor now met the dark, narrow tunnel below—a passage clawed and carved by kobold hands, stretching deep into the earth toward the Brood Barn.

But there remained one problem. The kobolds were too big to climb up into the cabinet, and the Shy—small as they were—weren’t used to such steep climbs down.

Sylven knew what needed to be done. With deliberate confidence, he stepped forward. All eyes were on him.

Vikka reached up at the hole with an open claw. She tilted her head to catch Sylven’s eye, waiting for his move. He didn't hesitate. He climbed onto Vikka's outstretched hand, his heart pounding in his chest.

A hushed silence fell over the Shy as they watched the young Sunbrave put his full trust in the kobold.

Vikka’s claws were rough but steady, cradling him as if he were something precious. For a moment, he felt the weight of her gaze—amber eyes studying him with a mix of curiosity and respect.

Vikka's voice was soft, almost a whisper. "Hold on."

With her passenger secure in her palm, she crouched and lowered her hands to the packed tunnel floor. Sylven hopped off, landing with a flourish. He turned, looking up and waving at the others still waiting above.

Sela's arms were crossed, her expression unreadable. Ilkin and Mara exchanged glances. Brynnal looked doubtful.

Finally, Ilkin sighed. "She better not drop me."

After Sylven translated, Vikka snorted. "As long as they don't wiggle too much."

One by one, the Shy steeled themselves and stepped forward.

Tesska and Nynka moved in to assist, and soon, the first handfuls of Shy were carefully carried down, placed gently onto the tunnel floor.

Sela was the last to go. She hesitated at the edge, arms folded. “Not so sure about this,” she muttered.

Sylven smirked up at her. “Come on, Sela. I promise, it’s not that bad.”

She huffed, but eventually stepped forward. Using body language to make her point, she mimed dropping something with her hands, then thrust her foot in the air near the kobold’s snout. “If you drop me, I’m kicking your nose,” she shouted.

Vikka just laughed and held out her claws.

And with that, another crucial step toward their escape was taken—not just in coordination and communication, but also in trust.

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Vikka dusted off her arms once all the Shy who wanted to be carried down were safely on the ground. She stayed seated to be closer to their level, then took a careful breath before tapping her chest and saying to all, "Friends."

The other kobolds watched her with unreadable expressions.

Then Tesska, studying Vikka’s movements, mimicked the gesture—sittiing then tapping her chest before pointing at the Shy. "Friends?"

Vikka nodded. "Friends."

The word went over the Shy’s head. It was kobold speech, a language full of hissing, trills, and clicks that was as foreign to them as their own words were to the kobolds.

Brynnal frowned. "What’s she saying?"

Sylven focused, his bond with Vikka letting him catch the edges of her thoughts. He could feel her certainty—this was an offer of friendship. They were calling for an alliance.

He turned back to the others. "She’s saying we’re friends. Allies. They want to help."

Sela still looked wary, but she let out a slow breath. "If you trust them, then so will I."

Brynnal's shoulders eased, though his hand remained near his belt knife.

The first threads of mutual trust had been woven—but it was fragile.

Mara pointed at the dirt piled up on the sides of the tunnel and the hole beyond, then mimed digging with her hands. She put her palms together and gave a deep bow. “Thank you. For all the digging,” she said while looking the kobold tunnel team in the eyes.

Tesska watched carefully, then copied the movement. A small nod of understanding passed between them.

Ilkin stepped forward, pointing to himself, then at the hole above them in the cabinet. After that, he gestured to the Kobolds, then back to the tunnel behind them. Then showed his two index fingers meeting. Two points. One goal.

Rena tilted her head. "They’re being kinda funny about it. But looks like they get it."

For a moment, it seemed like things were going swimmingly—until Tibbin's tail, twitching with nervous energy, swished forward a bit too abruptly, swatting Ilkin on the back and causing him to faceplant into the dirt.

The Shy flinched, their instincts screaming danger. Sela's body tensed, stepping instinctively between the towering Kobold and the less intrepid Shy huddled in the back. Brynnal tightened his stance again.

Tibbin froze in mid-tail swish, eyes wide, mouth agape. Then, slowly, he lifted his hands, palms open. The universal sign of "I mean no harm." He tried to smile while keeping his teeth hidden, but to the nervous Shy, it looked more like he was about to snarl.

Sylven could see both groups in danger of misreading each other.

Vikka sighed, hissing something in exasperation. Tibbin rolled his eyes but took a careful step back.

Sela hesitated, her muscles still coiled for a fight. But after a long pause, she relaxed and nodded to the others who remained cowering behind her. The tension eased. Just a little. The silence stretched again, but this time, it gave way to more tactile means of communicating.

Nynka eyed Ilkin's tiny hands before reaching out. Cautiously, Ilkin did the same. His entire palm barely grasped one of her claws. The kobold chirruped in amusement.

Sela, still wary, reached out toward the tip of Rena's tail. Her fingers brushed over scaled skin—so different from her own.

Rena let out a snort. "Soft little hands."

Tibbin, as if feeling suddenly self-conscious, took another step back and plopped onto the ground with a dramatic sigh, kicking his legs up and swishing his tail around more carefully this time.

"I feel so tough and bulky now, just looking at them," he trilled at the females.

Sela shook her head at his antics, but her lips curved up into a smile. "Shards! They're totally weird."

Brynnal let out a small, reluctant chuckle.

Ilkin grinned. "Yeah. But at least these weirdos are on our side now."

The moment passed, and something shifted between them. All at once, the realization hit them. They had done it. The tunnel and the hole had finally met. It had taken patience, struggle, and trust—but now, they were connected. Finally, this escape felt real.

Tesska clapped Vikka on the shoulder and, in kobold, trumpeted, "Good digging, team!"

Vikka grinned and translated to Sylven who passed it on to the Shy.

Brynnal finally let out a rollicking cheer. "Then the same to all of you too, I suppose."

Nynka stretched. "I could eat an entire rat after that."

Tibbin perked up. "I actually know where one lives!"

After Sylven explained what they said in Shyspeak, Sela laughed despite herself.

The tension of the last few moments melted away, replaced by something warmer. For the first time since their ordeals began, they were no longer just captives of the humans, parts of a living assembly line churning out eggs and clockworks. They were now a unified team, who’ve managed to come together against all odds.

As the others began to relax, Vikka crouched beside Sylven. "Nice seeing you again, pest," she teased. "Wasn’t sure we could pull this off. Still not sure we can see it through."

Sylven met her gaze, his expression serious. "We will."

Vikka nodded slowly, her claws flexing against the dirt. "I trust you well enough to believe that. So yes, I do think we will, my little friend. We’re going to bring this whole rotten operation down."