Chapter 5 — The Hollow Maw

The air changed first. A draft pulled through the tunnel, damp and foul, carrying the stink of rot and something metallic, like rusted iron. Merlin stiffened, hackles rising though his legs still trembled.

Then the sound came.

A scrape. Not the cautious tread of a man, but hundreds of points striking stone at once—like a thousand knives dragging across the floor in rhythm.

I froze, every muscle tight. The sound filled the passage ahead, closing off escape. The darkness seemed to move.

It came into view in broken pieces: the glisten of black carapace, the shiver of too many legs, the pale ring of a maw opening and closing like a grinding millstone. It was vast, filling the corridor wall to wall, its body arching up until its head nearly brushed the ceiling.

Merlin whined low, pressing against me, but he didn't break. His chest flickered faintly, a ghost of the light he'd wielded before—but nothing more.

The creature lunged forward, and the tunnel shook with its weight.

"Run," I whispered, shoving Merlin ahead of me. "Run!"

We bolted, the scrape of its legs rattling the walls behind us. The Hollow Maw thundered after, jaws grinding, the sound of stone cracking under its weight.

The tunnel twisted, narrowing, and I risked a glance back. Its bulk slammed into the walls, gouging great rents in the stone, but it did not stop. Its maw opened wider, impossibly wide, the blackness inside deeper than the tunnel itself.

We ran blind. Left, right, wherever the walls opened. My chest burned, my legs shaking, but fear drove me faster than I'd ever moved. Merlin surged ahead, stumbling, then pushing forward again, his glow just bright enough to keep me on his trail.

The passage dropped suddenly. We slid down a slope of rubble, tumbling into a wider cavern. Light—faint, but real—leaked from cracks high above.

The Hollow Maw crashed into the cavern mouth but stopped short. The tunnel it had followed us through was too narrow here. It slammed against the stone, shrieking, its maw gnashing, but its body could go no further.

I dragged Merlin behind a boulder, both of us gasping, hearts hammering. The beast writhed at the entrance, claws scraping, jaws snapping, but it could not reach us. At last, with a sound like grinding stone, it retreated, dragging its bulk back into the tunnels below.

The cavern fell silent again. Only our ragged breaths remained.

Merlin collapsed against me, chest rising and falling. I wrapped an arm around his neck, staring up at the thin crack of daylight above.

"We're getting out of here," I whispered. "Somehow."

And for the first time, I believed it.

— Second day, emerging from the tunnels —