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Talik stared at the alternative path, his mouth open. “Am I the only one seeing this?”

The cavern they were in was long but not very wide, with an entry on either end.

Khalida lowered herself to a crouch and stared at the jagged ceiling. “I dislike it. Whoever is watching us may have placed traps along the path they want us to follow. Be cautious.”

Chaucer moved to the new wall, his hands tracing the faint outlines. “I don’t recognize the language. It isn’t Atlantean or any of its older dialects.” He half-turned. “If I can spend some time here, I may be able to decipher the translation.”

“There is no time,” Dante answered curtly.

“That is not our only problem.” Khalida held up her gloved hand. Black congealed liquid dripped from it. “Blood.” She stood. “From the faint smell of decay lingering on it, I assume it’s from a serpopard.”

“Great,” Talik muttered before he turned his attention to Chaucer. “At least we know they bleed. Do you have anything to add about the creatures?”

Chaucer shook his head, a shiver raking his body. “No. But they will not touch Rieka.”

Dante focused on Chaucer as he moved closer. The younger Atlantean didn’t flinch. “Why?”

“They appear to be guarding her.”

Dante tried to recall all the encounters they’d had with the serpopards. He had been far too occupied with ensuring that Rieka was safe, he hadn’t analyzed what the animals were doing. Rieka had been unscathed. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Since when do they guard anything but their food?” Talik asked as he and Khalida moved as one as they surveyed the path, looking for any other clues. “How far are your guards?”

Khalida stared down at her wrist, a frown marring her face. “The immortals? I am unsure. There seems to be some sort of interference with the connection.”

A blank watch face stared at Dante; he had noticed it when he had been with Rieka. “Natural or artificial?”

“This far underground, it could be either,” Chaucer interjected as he took one last look at the wall. “I recognize the word temple—but that is it. It must be an ancient dialect.”

The ground underneath them vibrated, but this time, the walls stayed motionless. It sounded like a warning.

Talik pulled his blaster out of the holster. “I think they want us to keep moving.”

Dante copied Talik’s movement. He took one last glance at the wall. “Ready?”

Khalida unsheathed her swords in response.

“I, for one, am not ready to be anyone’s dinner,” Talik said. “I will take the lead.” He looked over to Chaucer. “You can help me.”

“I don’t have a weapon,” Chaucer pointed out. “How do I know you won’t leave me?”

“You don’t.” Dante nodded to Talik to move. Someone wanted them to follow this path. He just hoped Rieka was on the other end.

A loud, guttural roar reverberated through the cavern.

Animalistic. It wasn’t Atlantean or human. Or Rieka.

Dante closed his eyes, focusing on what was around him. He could only hear four heartbeats in the vicinity. There was no one else with them, but he knew better than to take that as a fact. There were countless Atlanteans who had been trained to lower their heart rates and who couldn’t be picked up by heightened senses. Assassins like Idris.

Whatever Idris needed Rieka for, he needed her alive, or he wouldn’t have taken her. It was not a comforting idea, but it was the hope he needed.

“I can only sense the four of us,” Khalida grimaced as she slowly looked Chaucer over. “But there are plenty of places to hide within the labyrinth.”

Chaucer appeared slightly green. “The serpopards are calling for each other.”

Chapter 47

“Whathaveyoudone?”