Riven moves first, positioning himself at the front of our huddled group, every line of his body coiled for violence.
"Whoever's down there," he calls into the dark, voice echoing off stone I can't see, every word sharpened into warning, "come no closer."
The footsteps don't stop. If anything, they quicken, unhurried but unmistakably deliberate, drawing closer with every second that passes.
"Riven," Jodan says quietly, "if it's more of Thorne's guards, we're trapped in a passage with no way to retreat. We need a plan that isn't standing our ground in the dark."
"I'm open to suggestions," Riven growls, tension coiled tight through every word, "provided anyone actually has one."
A soft, flickering light appears ahead of us, small and warm, nothing like the harsh torchlight the Council g
