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He says nothing, but his shoulders stay tense. Like he’s holding back every argument he wants to throw at me.

“I know you don’t like this,” I say.

“No,” he says quietly, “I don’t.”

“Then stop me.”

I wait, but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t speak, only clenches his fists and looks away.

“Thought so,” I whisper.

Packed, armed, and as ready as we’ll ever be, we leave the compound. It isn’t long before we’re standing at the lava flow tunnel that will lead us into the Urr’ki city. The three of us, cloaked and armed, shadows on the edge of firelight.

Z’leni moves first, slipping into the dark without a sound. Ryatuv follows, a silent sentinel. I take one last breath of the cool air behind me and step forward, into the heat, into the dark, into whatever comes next.

Three sets of footsteps. One path.No turning back.

39

ELARA

It feels as if we’re being swallowed whole by the tunnel.

The air grows thicker, hotter, heavy with the metallic tang of sulfur that coats the back of my throat and makes every breath claw like sandpaper.

Sweat beads along my spine and collects in the hollow of my throat. Even wrapped in Ryatuv’s protective cloak, the heat presses down on me like the breath of a living furnace.

Ryatuv leads, moving in silence, his broad back framed by the faint orange glow of molten rock from the crevasse in the floor beside us. Z’leni is behind me, a shadow at my heels. The silence between them is deafening. I feel it like pressure in my ears. It’s full of unspoken things, sharp and crackling, just waiting to combust.

Ryatuv glances back and murmurs, “Keep left,” his voice cutting through the sulfur-choked air like a blade. “I found a side path last recon. Should still be stable.”

Should. I don’t like that word down here.

The ground shudders. It’s a subtle tremor, at first. Just enough to remind us this place is alive. That the mountain above and the fire below are having a personal disagreement and we’re intruding on their argument.

My foot slips and I catch myself against the wall. The stone is slick with condensation and heat. Ryatuv glances back, briefly, but no words. Only a nod that says he’s watching.

We press on and the tunnel narrows. The walls closing in like the throat of an enormous beast. The further we go the higher the heat climbs. My vision is blurred by sweat that trickles into my eyes, and then?—

Crack.

The sound is immediately followed by a groan and a thunderous shift in the stone to my right. I whip my head toward the sound. Too late.

The wall beside me fractures.

There is a roaring sound.

The crack explodes without warning. A gout of fire-laced air blasts out. Instinctively, I throw up my arm—and pain slams into me, raw and searing.

It’s so fast, so sudden I don’t even scream.

My knees buckle. I stumble into Z’leni, who catches me with one hand. His sword is in his other hand, ready in case anything emerges.

“It’s sealed,” Ryatuv says a moment later, scanning the crack. “Keep moving.”

He sees me clutching my arm and stops. He strides back and catches my wrist with a gentleness that makes my throat ache.

“I’m fine,” I mutter, trying to pull away. “We don’t have time?—”