Inside the crypt
Lucian moved through it with his shoulders turned sideways, one hand trailing along the damp stone. No light down here. No moon. No glow from the crypt above. Just cold air, close walls, and the slow drip of water sowhere ahead.
Voss was in front of him. Twenty feet. Maybe less.
He couldn’t see her clearly, but he could hear enough. A boot brushing loose stone. A controlled breath. The faint creak of leather when she twisted through a narrow part.
She moved like soone who had done this too many tis. Confident. Careful. Not silent, but close.
Lucian kept his distance.
The tunnel sloped downward, then leveled out. The air turned colder. Wetter. The sll grew worse too. Old blood. Damp fur. Sothing sour underneath.
Lucian slowed.
Ahead, Voss stopped.
He stopped too.
Neither moved.
Then she continued.
The tunnel widened into a rough passage, more natural than carved. Dark slick patches on the walls. Lucian avoided touching those.
Then the passage opened into a cave.
Voss entered first.
Lucian stayed back, half-hidden by the bend.
The cave was larger than it looked. Wide enough for a proper fight. High enough that the shadows swallowed the ceiling. Loose stones scattered across the ground, mixed with dried mud and bones.
Animal bones. Mostly.
So were too large to be animals.
In the center, curled against a natural pillar of rock, was the Glimrtongue.
It looked worse up close. Pale skin stretched too tightly over long limbs. Fingers too thin, too many. Joints bent wrong, like the body had only copied the shape of a human and never understood how one was supposed to move.
Its face was almost smooth. Almost harmless.
That was the ugliest part.
Big dark eyes watched Voss without blinking. Too aware. Too patient.
The thing was wounded. One leg dragged slightly. One arm stayed close to its body like sothing inside had cracked.
But wounded didn’t an weak.
Wounded things killed harder when they had nowhere left to run.
Voss stopped about ten feet from it. She didn’t speak. Didn’t threaten.
Her silver hand glowed faintly, just enough to drag the monster out of the dark.
The Glimrtongue tilted its head. Its throat moved.
Lucian pressed his hands over his ears.
"Voss."
Mira’s voice. Perfect. Too perfect.
"Voss, don’t. It’s a trap. Get out."
Voss didn’t move.
The creature’s lips pulled apart.
"Voss, please. He’s behind you. He’s going to kill you."
Lucian’s jaw tightened.
It knew. Or it guessed. Maybe it slled doubt the way other things slled blood.
The voice shifted. Softer this ti.
"Mira is dead because you sent her outside."
Voss’s fingers twitched. Only for half a second.
But the creature saw it.
Its eyes widened. Not with fear. Hunger.
"Gunnar is next."
Voss pulled sothing from her belt. A small silver cylinder.
Lucian recognized it half a second too late.
She pulled the pin and dropped it.
The cave beca pain.
Sound crashed into his skull like a hamr. His ears rang white. His vision blurred. His balance broke, and he caught himself against the stone before his knees gave.
The blast didn’t just hit the ears. It hit the body. The teeth. The bones behind the eyes.
His breath ca sharp, then steadied.
The ringing faded faster than it should have.
Lucian blinked twice and forced his eyes to focus.
Voss was already moving.
She hadn’t wasted a second.
While the Glimrtongue reeled, claws scraping stone, Voss crossed the cave with cold speed. Her silver hand raised. Her other hand ca up with a compact launcher.
The Glimrtongue shrieked.
Not a stolen voice. Its real one. Thin and sharp, like tal dragged against bone.
It tried to retreat, but the pillar was behind it. Its wounded leg failed. It dragged itself sideways, too slow.
Voss fired.
The net burst open. Silver threads spread wide and wrapped around the creature before it could twist away.
Smoke rose the mont the sh touched skin.
The Glimrtongue scread. Thrashed. Clawed. But every touch burned its fingers. The silver tightened the more it moved.
It folded in on itself, shaking, hissing, crying in three different voices at once.
A child. Mira. An old man. Then itself.
Voss stood over it, breathing harder now. Her silver hand pulsed.
"Got you," she muttered.
Lucian watched from the tunnel bend.
His ears still rang faintly. His body had settled, but the irritation stayed.
Voss had caught it. That mattered.
But she’d sprung her trap without warning, with anyone nearby left to suffer the blast.
That also mattered.
He touched his earpiece.
"Cora."
Static. Then her voice, broken but clear.
"Where are you?"
"Below the crypt. Voss has it netted."
A pause.
"Don’t let her leave with it."
"I know."
"We’re at the north wall. Give us two minutes."
Lucian looked at Voss. She was crouched near the creature, checking the net seals.
"We don’t have two minutes."
"Then make two minutes."
Lucian lowered his hand.
Voss didn’t look back. Not at first.
"Thought I heard breathing back there."
Lucian stepped out from the tunnel bend.
Voss turned. Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second. Not fear. Surprise. Then it vanished.
"The rookie." She stood slowly. "Should’ve known you’d follow."
Lucian walked into the cave. His eyes went to the Glimrtongue, then to the net, then to her.
"Drop the net."
"No."
"Voss."
Her silver hand flexed. "You’re late."
"I said drop it."
"And I said no."
The Glimrtongue whimpered between them, its throat bubbling, trying to find a voice.
Lucian stopped several steps away. His hands lowered to his blades.
Voss saw it. Her silver hand pulsed.
"You really want to do this down here?"
He drew one blade. Then the other.
Above, through the stone, boots scraped. Voices called. His team was close.
Voss heard it too. Her jaw tightened.
"Last chance," Lucian said.
She smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes.
"Make your move, rookie."
He stepped forward.
The cave went cold.
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