They walked for hours before they saw anything.

A large shed snakeskin lay in their way, blocking their path. They stopped and looked, silent for a moment.

Tiger stepped closer to peer at it. "How big do you think a thing would have to be to shed a skin that big?"

He reached a hand out as if he was going to poke at it, but pulled back just before he could make contact.

"What I want to know is when this was shed," Ada said.

Gus got close enough to see the texture of the skin. It looked old, very old, but he wasn't familiar enough with snakes to know how the skins aged after they were shed. Did they stay as they were or just crumble into dust? He just didn't know.

The skin was not fully opaque, but even if he tried to look through it he couldn't see anything clearly. So he followed it to the side of the cave and looked at where it met the cave wall. There were no gaps to get through. Whichever snake left it behind did so long enough that more rock had filled in the space it once moved through.

"No turn in the path," he said, and turned back to see what the others were doing.

Ada threw a stick at the skin and it tore open, giving them a clean view of the other side of the path.

"Where did you get that?" Tiger asked.

"I packed sticks," Ada said. "In case we need firewood later. I'm sure this place gets cold."

"You always plan ahead," Gus said.

Inside the torn open snake skin were rocks and shells, other light detritus. But nothing fresh, nothing new. Surely something must have come this way recently to get into the world below. And yet.

Gus clutched tighter to his bag and reminded himself that this was a place of secrets and illusions and nothing he saw could be trusted. And then he stepped over the torn open skin and continued down the path, the other two behind.

*

They tired eventually.

"It could be night by now. Can we rest?" Ada asked.

Gus stopped, considered. For at least the last 100 metres his every breath had been a heavy sigh, his head tired and sore. It could be a sign of his body remembering when to rest, or a strange effect of this place.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Tiger said.

In the distance something rumbled. The ground shook. The quake moved through quickly, but it took the last of Gus's strength for the day.

"I'm too tired," Gus said. "At least let us sit down."

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

Tiger looked over, his face soft with concern. Gus looked at his feet.

"In that case, let's rest," Tiger said.

Gus set himself against the cave wall and slid down, slowly. There wasn't much to look at once he sat, just more cave.

"Should we start a fire?" Ada asked.

"Not unless you have something to cook on it," Gus said. "I have a very large blanket, so the firewood can wait until we really need a fire."

*

When he woke, he woke slowly. The world was a blur as he began to open his eyes, his mind still halfway stuck in the dream. The details were drifting away already, but something about it kept trying to drag him back down into the world of sleep until he finally blinked enough times to let his eyes focus.

His head had rolled onto Tiger's shoulder while they were sleeping, and his clothes were damp with drool. Gus moved back and looked around.

Ada stood against the other wall of the cave, eyes wide open, still like a statue.

"She's been like that for hours," Tiger said, voice soft. "She woke up gasping for breath and said she had to keep watch. I let her. And then I dreamed of the tiger spirit again, but I don't know what it wanted to say."

"Why didn't you wake me?" Gus asked.

Ada turned to look at him. "Because you needed the sleep."

It didn't take long to roll up the blanket and get moving again.

The cave was quiet but for their breathing and the movement of their feet. But above their heads the scenery changed, the rock becoming darker first, then shining with a rainbow of colours where the lantern's light hit it.

"Is this like the myths?" Gus asked.

"There are no great details in the myths. The tales of people returning from the world below are rare and slight. I'm not convinced it's possible, but we took on this job, so we have to," Ada said.

And then a rumbling sound in the distance to break up the tedium. At first Gus thought it was another minor quake, and then he saw them, blurry figures running further and further into the distant dark, down further into the tunnel. Soon they ran far enough to be out of sight, but then the ground shook, and there really was the sound of the world around them rearranging itself.

Thousands of spiders rushed past them toward the world above. Small spiders beneath them, small enough to squash if they weren't careful, and big spindly-limbed huntsman spiders and fuzzy bird-eaters above.

They stopped until the spiders passed.

"They're all gone, Tiger. You can open your eyes now," Gus said.

"I don't trust that," Tiger said. But he moved as soon as Gus grabbed his sleeve and dragged him on.

"I hear a distant sound of water," Ada said.

Gus focused, tried to take in more than the little his eyes were giving him. "I don't hear that, but I can hear a distant bird sound."

"I don't hear anything," Tiger said.

Soon they came to a fork in the road, but they didn't have the chance to choose which tunnel to go down, before a great beast stood in their way. A monstrous thing, head like a lion, roaring, body of a man, hooves like a bull, claws instead of hands. It hit the ground with its hooves three times before charging towards them.

They scattered against the sides of the cave, Tiger and Ada on one side, Gus on the other, and let it charge through while they readied their weapons.

"I should have brought something more useful than sticks," Ada said.

"Then use my sword," Tiger said, handing it to her and grabbing a stick from her hand.

The beast charged at Gus and he was ready with his blade. He got first blood, slicing at its wrist, but it ran forward, headless of its injury, and reached its claws towards his flesh. He hopped back, out of its reach. It waved its bleeding arm again, and he hacked at it, forced back even so. If only he had a shield—

Tiger distracted it with a stick, thrown right at its eyes. The beast tipped its head back and roared, clutching at its own face.

Ada charged in, her form textbook perfect as she sliced at its back. It turned and grabbed at her, too quick for her to avoid. Tiger grabbed at the beast's mane, pulled it back from her. The creature tossed her against the wall. Gus could hear the thud as the fall winded her. He could tell she was out of the fight.

The beast thrashed. Its teeth snapped near Tiger's face.

No, Gus would not let that happen. He stepped forward, and whirled into it, swinging the sword with all that momentum. It sliced through the beast's flesh, splashing blood everywhere. The beast clutched at its open side, worsening its own wound. Gus attacked again, tearing at its arm as it flailed in the air.

It was still too close to Tiger for his comfort.

"Kick it," he yelled.

"Kick it," Ada echoed, her voice a bare exhalation of breath.

Tiger kicked at the creature's knees, once, twice, and a third time, and it stumbled, tearing away from him. Gus turned, sword securely gripped in both hands, and hacked at its back. It's roar was like the cry of a wounded man. Gus swung again and decapitated it. And then he swung again, just in case.

His blood was hot, his body wet with blood.

"You can stop," Tiger said.

The beast was still, crumpled over itself on the ground, head facing the floor.

"Can you help me wipe my sword?" Gus asked. "I forgot to pack a rag."