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ELARA

The stone scrapes my palms. My knees ache. Dust clogs my throat. The tunnel narrows, tightening around me.

I crawl inch by inch through the darkness, arms stretched ahead, the stone pressing down until my breath comes fast and shallow.

I bump my head on the ceiling with a dull thud. I shift, trying to press forward—and realize with a jolt of horror that I can’t move.

I’m stuck.

There’s no space to turn. No way to back out. I feel Ryatuv’s presence behind me—close, too close—and Z’leni’s ahead, silent, swallowed by the dark.

My breath hitches.

No! No! Fuck, fuck, fuck. No!

Panic surges.

A thin, mewling sound fills the space—raw, broken. It takes a second before I realize it’s coming from me.

I press my palms into the cold ground. It’s damp. Gritty. My arms tremble, and I try to breathe, but my chest won’t expand. The air feels thick, like I’m trying to inhale through water.

“Keep moving,” Z’leni calls from ahead, voice muffled. “You’re almost?—”

“I can’t,” I whisper.

“Elara?” Ryatuv’s voice, deep and too close behind me. “What’s wrong?”

The stone closes in. I swear it’s moving. Narrowing, tightening, sealing me inside. My heart slams against my ribs like it’s trying to escape without me. My skin crawls and I’m sweating, even though it’s freezing. There’s not enough air. I can’t?—

I’m shaking.

My fingers scrabble against the stone, searching for something to hold onto, but there’s nothing. Just more wall. More crushing blackness.

“I can’t breathe—” I gasp.

“Elara,” Ryatuv says sharply. “Look at me.”

“Ican’t?—”

“Elara, stop. Just stop,” Z’leni’s voice filters back, calmer now. “You’re okay. You’re panicking. It’s not real.”

But itfeelsreal. My lungs burn. My vision blurs. The tunnel tilts beneath me, stone walls pulsing like they’re alive and tightening, tightening?—

“Elara,” Ryatuv says again, his voice closer now, steady and deep. A hand brushes my calf—grounding, real. “I need you to come back to me. Right now.”

I can’t. I can’t. I can’t?—

His hand slides up to my knee. Slow. Grounding.

“Breathe with me. Right here, okay? In. Hold. Out. Just listen to my voice,” Ryatuv says.

I squeeze my eyes shut. The tears come faster, hot and helpless. But I try. Itry. I suck in air through my nose, but it doesn’t work.

“Elara.” Z’leni’s voice joins Ryatuv’s, echoing off the stone and forming a tether. “You’ve already made it through worse than this. You walked through fire, remember? You survived the Shaman.”

That almost makes me laugh. Almost. Ryatuv’s breathing steadily, and I try to match him. Almost there. I can do this.