The passage narrowed until the three of them were forced to move in single file. The walls pressed close, damp and warm like flesh. Aric dragged his hand along one side for balance, but recoiled when the surface quivered beneath his touch, shuddering as though alive.
He kept his torch raised. The flame sputtered and hissed, shadows writhing across the walls. The light seemed to bend unnaturally, elongating into shapes that whispered of forms he could not quite see—fingers, faces, mouths pressed against the root-woven barriers.
The girl clung to her dagger, her breathing quick and shallow. “This place isn’t right,” she murmured. “It feels like walking through someone’s dream… or nightmare.”
The scarred man, leading them, didn’t turn. “The Heart doesn’t like intruders. It twists space, co
