Kaelen and Helga ran into a dead end as they rushed in blindly like they always did but there was something different about this place/

The tunnel narrowed, then stopped altogether—a wall of rough, unbroken stone that reflected no torchlight, no moss, no hope of passage. Kaelen skidded to a halt, his claws scraping grooves into the floor. Helga, still riding his back, leaned forward to peer over his shoulder.

"Well," the dwarf said flatly. "That’s not good."

The strange thing was, they hadn’t passed through the same path Jason and Mira had taken. They had veered left at the junction, a detour that Kaelen had insisted on because he "smelled something interesting." Mira had gone right, and Jason’s group had taken the center path.

Which meant Mira had it all wrong.

She couldn’t use her nose to find them either. The state of the cave was foul—feces, rotting meat, some kind of chemical stench that burned the nostrils and made the eyes water. Helga’s own sense of smell, dwarf-keen as it was, had been useless since they entered the tunnel.

Kaelen turned in a slow circle, his yellow eyes scanning the walls, the ceiling, the floor. His tail swayed behind him, brushing against Helga’s leg.

"Where are we?" he asked.

Helga jumped off his back, her boots thudding against the stone. She walked to the dead-end wall, running her thick fingers over the surface. Cracks. Weaknesses. Signs of age.

"You’re the one who brought us here," she said, not looking back. "You and your ’interesting smell.’"

Kaelen grunted. "It was interesting."

"It was a dead end."

"We didn’t know that until now."

Helga turned to face him, her eyes flat. "We could have gone with Mira. Or followed the little meat. But no. You had to chase a smell."

Kaelen shrugged his massive shoulders. His axes clanked against his belt. "I’m not bothered."

"Of course you’re not."

"We’ve handled worse than a dead end." Kaelen cracked his neck, the bones popping loudly. "This crawl is low-ranked. Goblins. Spiders. Nothing we can’t crush." He gestured at the wall. "So crush it."

Helga stared at him for a long moment. Then she sighed.

"You’re impossible."

She turned back to the wall, hefting her warhammer. The weapon was massive—almost as tall as she was, the head crackling with faint traces of lightning magic. Her shield was strapped to her back, but she didn’t need it for this.

"Stand back," she said.

Kaelen took two steps back. Then another, just to be safe.

Helga swung.

The warhammer connected with the stone wall like a thunderclap. The impact shook the tunnel, sending dust and small rocks raining from the ceiling. Cracks spiderwebbed across the surface—not from the hammer’s head, but from the lightning that followed it, splitting the stone along invisible fault lines.

This weapon was enchnated which granted her a form of magic, or rather, an outlet to use magic.

Helga pulled back and swung again.

CRACK.

The wall shattered.

Not crumbled. Not cracked. Shattered. Rock exploded outward in a cloud of dust and debris, revealing a dark passage beyond. The sound echoed through the tunnel like a cannon blast.

Kaelen stared at the gaping hole, then at Helga. His yellow eyes were wide.

"Every time," he said quietly. "Every time I see you do that, I am amazed."

Helga lowered her hammer, breathing hard. "It’s just strength."

"It’s not just strength." Kaelen shook his head. "You’re this small. This... compact. And you hit like a collapsing mountain. How?"

"Centuries of practice." Helga stepped toward the new passage. "And good genes."

Kaelen followed, his claws clicking on the broken stone. "Dwarves are terrifying."

"Thank you."

They moved into the darkness beyond the shattered wall.

The passage opened into a larger chamber—wide, high-ceilinged, and utterly silent. Too silent. Helga’s boots stopped making echoes. Kaelen’s breathing seemed to vanish into the air.

And then they both felt it, there was something lurking.

The hair on Helga’s arms stood up. Kaelen’s tail went rigid. Every instinct screamed at them to run, to fight, to do something.

Before Helga could react, something shot out of the darkness above.

A spiderweb.

Thick. White. Moving faster than an arrow.

It was aimed at Helga’s chest.

Kaelen moved without thinking. His massive body slammed into Helga, shoving her sideways with enough force to send her stumbling into a pile of rubble. The web sailed past her, missing by inches.

But it caught Kaelen.

The strands wrapped around his torso, his arms, his neck, binding him in an instant. The web was strong—stronger than anything they had ever encountered. Kaelen strained against it, his muscles bulging, his claws tearing at the strands. They didn’t break. They didn’t even stretch.

"What the—" he growled.

Then he was yanked.

The web pulled him off his feet, dragging him across the stone floor and into the darkness beyond the chamber. Kaelen’s claws scraped uselessly against the rock, leaving deep gouges but finding no purchase.

"KAELEN!" Helga screamed, scrambling to her feet.

She grabbed her warhammer and ran after him, but the darkness was already swallowing him. She could see his yellow eyes, wide with surprise, and then—

"FIND THE OTHERS!" Kaelen roared, his voice echoing from the depths. "WARN THEM! THIS ISN’T A NORMAL SPIDER! IT’S A QUEEN!"

Helga stopped running.

Her heart pounded. Her hands gripped her warhammer so hard her knuckles went white.

A queen.

"Shit."

She knew there was a chance Kaelen would be killed. Queen spiders didn’t take prisoners. They wrapped their prey in silk, injected venom, and sucked out the liquefied insides. It was a slow, agonizing death.

But Kaelen would be angrier if she didn’t save the rest.

He had said it himself to warn the others."

Helga kissed her teeth—a sharp, angry sound that echoed off the walls.

"Damn you, Kaelen," she muttered. "Damn you and your stupid heroics."

She turned and ran in the opposite direction, back toward the shattered wall, back toward the junction where they had split from the others.

She made it three steps before she realized she was surrounded.

Small spiders.

Dozens of them. Maybe hundreds. They dropped from the ceiling on thin threads of silk, their legs twitching, their multiple eyes gleaming in the darkness. They were the size of large dogs, with hairy bodies and dripping mandibles.

They blocked the passage ahead. They blocked the passage behind. They clustered on the walls, on the ceiling, on the floor.

Helga raised her warhammer.

"Shit," she said.

-

Jason and his group stood frozen in the cavern of eggs, their backs against the sealed tunnel, their eyes scanning the darkness beyond the firelight.

Ylva’s ears swiveled like radar dishes. Her nose was useless in this place—the stench of rot, feces, and old blood had overwhelmed her senses the moment they entered. But her hearing was still top notch. Every drip of water, every crackle of the fire, every distant skitter of tiny legs registered in her brain like a map.

"There’s something coming," she whispered. "Fast."

Jason drew his short sword. His hands were shaking. "How many?"

"One. Maybe two." Ylva’s ears flattened. "Running. Not crawling."

Thalion stepped forward, his pale eyes fixed on the tunnel entrance. Mae pressed herself against the wall, her hand on her sword hilt, her brown eyes wide.

They braced for impact.

The footsteps grew louder. Closer. A rapid, desperate rhythm against the stone floor.

Then a figure burst through the tunnel entrance.

It wasn’t Helga.

It wasn’t Kaelen.

It was a creature Jason had never seen before—pale skin, almost white, with sharp cheekbones and sunken eyes. Its lips were cracked, its clothes torn. It moved like it was starving.

A vampire. A male one.

But before he could open his mouth to speak.

White strands shot out of the darkness behind it, latching onto its back. The vampire’s eyes went wide. Its hands clawed at the air.

Before it could utter a single word, the webs yanked it backward. Its fingers scraped against the stone floor, leaving bloody trails. Its mouth opened in a silent scream.

Then it was gone. Dragged into the darkness like a fish on a line.

Jason stared at the empty space where the vampire had been.

"Yup," he said. "I am out."

He spun around and faced the sealed tunnel—the wall of solid rock that had appeared out of nowhere.

"Thalion!" Jason screamed. "Blow a fucking hole in the wall! NOW!"

Thalion didn’t hesitate. He stretched forth his palm, his silver hair whipping around his face. Mana gathered around his fingers—dark, swirling, hungry.

He didn’t hold back.

A beam of pure force erupted from his hand, slamming into the stone wall. The rock didn’t crumble. It exploded outward, away from them, revealing the dark passage they had come from.

The tunnel was open.

"RUN!!!" Jason screamed.

He didn’t wait to see if anyone followed. He grabbed Ylva’s arm and bolted through the gap, his boots slipping on the broken stone. Mae was right behind him, her hooves clattering. Thalion brought up the rear, his hand still smoking.

The passage stretched ahead, dark and winding. Jason’s lungs burned. His legs pumped. Rocks and debris crunched under his feet.

Thalion’s eyes widened.

He had no idea Jason could run so fast.