KAEL'S POV
The chamber refused to die quietly.
The stone groaned and screamed above us, the cracks glowing faintly where the Binder's touch had seeped deepest. Dust drifted like gray mist, catching in my throat as I shifted Ayla against my chest. She felt lighter than she should—too light, as if part of her fire still lingered in the air instead of in her body.
I hated it.
"Hold on," I muttered, more for myself than for her, and rose into the smoke.
The path back to the surface was choked with rubble. Heat pulsed through the walls like veins still smoldering. Each step jarred against the silence of her shallow breaths.
But silence didn't last.
Halfway up the incline, I heard it: voices. Not the Binder's, not his spectral echo—these were flesh-and-blood, rough, impatient.
"…said the flare came from here."
"Then we dig."
"No. Wait. Listen."
I froze, pressing my back to the stone, Ayla's weight balanced in my arms. The voices weren't inside yet, but close. Too close.
