The heavy oak door of the mountain cave swung shut, sealing out the sulfurous twilight and the maddening howl of the wind.
Inside, the air was cold and damp,
smelling of ancient stone and deep earth. A single oil lantern flickered on a low rock shelf, throwing long, restless shadows across the jagged cavern walls. Down in the main subterranean tunnels below us, Torin and Caelen were ushering the two hundred resistance fighters deeper toward the western foundries, but Gideon couldn't go any further.
Not yet.
He slammed his back against the stone wall of the small cave, his breathing loud, ragged, and violent in the confined space. His broad chest heaved, his heavy tactical jacket open at the chest, exposing the thick muscles beneath. Dark, violet-rimmed veins identical to the corruption
