Chapter 18 - In the Pit of Teeth and Truth
1318 Words
“Nooooooo!!!!”
Saelwyn cried behind the closed stone flaps. Runi’s eyes widened in shock, and Grön collapsed onto the very spot where he had celebrated his victory—now the cause of disaster.
Saelwyn dashed forward, intent on going after them, but Runi caught his arm.
“What are you doing, Saelwyn? You’ll fall too.”
“I don’t care. I can’t leave Aksanaa down there with two beasts.”
“Hey!” Grön snapped at the insult. “You can’t talk to my boss like that.” He stood up from where he had fallen, rising like a mountain.
“I can’t leave my boss either. I’m going.”
“Nobody’s going!” Runi barked.
“We need a plan, you idiots. You can’t just leap into a pit with a galabon lion and hope for the best.”
Both men paused.
“This giant doesn’t have much going on upstairs, but at least *you* use your brain, Saelwyn.”
“Hey!” Grön protested, but Runi ignored him.
“Okay. They’re in a dark pit with a galabon, and we can’t even see them. What’s the first thing we should do?”
Saelwyn took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.
“We need to open the flaps.”
“Yes! That’s a start. Then we can see inside and figure out how to help.” Runi nodded.
“But how?”
“I guess I know. Follow me.” Saelwyn gestured to Grön, who followed without hesitation. He would do anything to save Daghan.
They moved deeper into the forest. Saelwyn pointed to the fallen trunk of a large dead tree.
“Can you carry this, giant?”
“I can.”
“Good.”
They returned to the trap site, Grön hefting the massive trunk over his shoulder.
Standing at the edge of the paved area, Saelwyn instructed, “You need to throw it to the very side of the flap, so it keeps the door open. But be careful—if it falls directly on the flaps, it’ll slide in and make things worse.”
Grön nodded.
“Now, I’ll toss a small stone to trigger the trap. When the flaps open, you throw the trunk next to them to wedge it open. It should land partially on the pavement, but mostly off it. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“You sure about this?” Runi asked. “If it falls in, this could be a disaster.”
“I don’t have a better plan, and no time to come up with one,” Saelwyn replied. “We just have to hope it works.”
Runi nodded solemnly.
Saelwyn tossed a small rock onto the stone path. With a deafening screech and unnatural smoothness, the flaps opened wide.
When the edges were fully visible, Saelwyn shouted—half adrenaline, half desperation—“Now!!”
Grön hurled the trunk.
It landed at the edge of the trap. It teetered dangerously.
Runi held her breath. Grön watched in horror. Saelwyn silently begged every god he normally ignored.
The trunk slid… and jammed perfectly between the flaps just as they began to close. The flaps groaned but stayed open.
“Yes!!” Saelwyn shouted in relief.
Runi jumped in place, ecstatic. Grön exhaled heavily.
“Good job, Grön!” Saelwyn said, patting his arm—the first time he used the giant’s name.
All three leaned over the pit and peered inside to find Aksanaa and Daghan. But before they could see clearly, a scream echoed out of the darkness, erasing their brief relief.
…
It had been a short fall. Aksanaa hit the hard ground with a sharp thud against her back. She could barely see. The flaps had closed instantly, plunging them into total darkness. She vaguely remembered another fall, long ago—one that had cost her everything. But she shook the memory off the moment she heard Daghan groaning beside her—he was conscious.
“Are you okay?” Daghan asked first.
“Yes. Are you?”
“Yea—”
A guttural growl rumbled from somewhere behind them. They both knew what it was.
They scrambled to their feet. Daghan’s hand found hers in the dark. He pulled her close.
“Be cautious. We don’t know where it is. Listen.”
Aksanaa nodded, even though he couldn’t see it.
He still held her hand. And for once, she was too scared to let go.
The growl kept coming closer. They turned their faces toward it — being attacked from the front was better than from behind. Aksanaa searched for her weapons with her free hand. Her fingers brushed the dagger strapped to her thigh, then the axe on her back. Both were still with her. A small breath of relief.
Her first instinct was to give the dagger to Daghan — but then she remembered what everyone kept saying. It had already chosen her. It wouldn’t yield to anyone else now. So she chose the axe instead. Drawing it swiftly, she let go of Daghan’s hand and placed the haft of the axe into it.
For a second, Daghan seemed puzzled, registering the loss of warmth. His fingers brushed over the object now in his hand — wood. Then he traced it silently with his other hand and understood.
A weapon.
He never needed one before. His dragon form had always been enough. But now? Now he was as vulnerable as the rest of them. No one else knew it - except Grön - but the knowledge itself stung.
Still, he was grateful. He tested the weight of the axe, adjusted his footing, and shifted into a fighting stance. Just because he didn’t need a weapon before didn’t mean he didn’t know how to wield one. Every dragon was trained — in magic, in combat. Martial arts were only the beginning.
He felt Aksanaa take her stance beside him. She wasn’t weak either. For someone so delicate, she fought like a wild thing — like a honey badger. Small but vicious.
Then they felt it — a shift in the air. The creature lunged.
They dove in opposite directions, their weapons slicing through the dark. But no scream followed.
They missed.
"Aksanaa, come to my side," Daghan whispered.
She crept toward his voice, careful with every step.
"Would be nice if you could shift into your dragon form and light this place up a bit," she muttered.
Daghan tensed. If he could, he would have. A thousand times already.
"Is it wise to shift in such a small space?" he countered. "What if there isn’t room for a dragon?"
Silence.
His heart pounded. *Badumm. Badumm.* He hoped the lie was enough.
"You’re right," Aksanaa finally said. "Good thinking."
Daghan let out a breath — silently grateful for the darkness that concealed his relief.
"So," she said, "you’ll have to fight like the rest of us. With hands and steel."
"Don’t worry. I’m good at everything."
Aksanaa rolled her eyes. But before she could say more, the beast lunged again.
This time, Aksanaa felt her dagger strike flesh. A cry tore from the creature’s throat.
"Did you hear that?" Daghan called.
"Yeah..."
"That was my axe. I got it. Don’t worry, you’re safe."
"It was *my* dagger, you overgrown lizard," she snapped. "Worry about your own skin."
With that, she dove forward, aimed low, and slashed where she assumed the legs were. Her blade hit bone — another roar echoed through the pit.
Suddenly, the flaps above groaned and opened. Light spilled into the darkness, blinding after so long in pitch black. Aksanaa and Daghan shielded their eyes, blinking rapidly.
As her vision cleared, Aksanaa looked up — slowly, painfully — to the feet in front of her. There were paws. Massive. Clawed. Too close.
She looked up. And up. And up.
And then… She screamed.
- Writer
