I had the taste of earth and wet stone in my mouth before I even opened my eyes. The torchshaft was a narrow one, flaring as it met spans slick with spilt mildew. My own back against dirt, I realized: I had fallen into one of the cult's underground tunnels. Heart thumping, I made myself breath in longer channels, got up on my knees, and signalled the others.
Behind me, and a step back out of the shadows, came Torin, Mara, and two Freeborn scouts – Jora and Fen – their expressions grim under their hoods. Kael himself stayed above, directing flanking watches. Today we infiltrated the wolf king's dark heart of a cult itself.
