Page 68 of Shadow's Claim

With careful movements, we board the shadow-boat, which holds our weight with surprising stability. Kael uses his multiple arms to guide us into the current, shadows extending like oars to propel us forward when needed. Our daughter watches everything with those remarkable eyes, her consciousness flitting between us with what feels like fascination.

The underground river carries us swiftly through the cave system, occasional passages opening to reveal glimpses of star-filled sky above before plunging back into darkness. Time becomes difficult to track in this strange environment, but I estimate we've traveled for several hours when our daughter's consciousness suddenly sharpens with alarm.

"What is it?" I ask, instantly alert despite bone-deep exhaustion.

Before she can project an answer, the cave around us trembles. Not a natural earthquake—the vibration carries purpose, intent. The bioluminescent fungi darken momentarily, as though responding to some unseen threat.

"Obscura," Kael growls, shadows gathering protectively around us. "The Sovereign has detected our general location."

"How?" I demand, clutching our daughter closer. "I thought you said they couldn't track us here."

"Direct tracking, no," he confirms, four arms working to increase our speed through the water. "But Obscura commands resources beyond shadow paths. The tremors suggest dimensional probing—searching for disturbances in reality fabric rather than following specific trail."

Wonderful. Our pursuers have upgraded from bloodhounds to reality-warping technology. The unfairness would be laughable if it weren't so terrifying.

Our daughter's consciousness pulses with sudden determination, her tiny form tensing against my chest. Shadow patterns beneath her skin glow with increasing intensity, and I feel her gathering power in ways I don't understand but somehow recognize—like watching someone speak a language you've only just begun to learn.

"What is she doing?" I ask Kael, watching purple light spread from our daughter's skin to dance across the water's surface.

"Creating dimensional interference," he answers, voice tight with concern. "Disrupting Obscura's probes. But the energy output?—"

He doesn't finish the thought. He doesn't need to. I can feel the strain through our mental connection—our daughter pushing herself beyond what her newborn body should be capable of sustaining. The glow intensifies, shadows around us responding to her will rather than Kael's, forming complex patterns that seem to fold reality itself.

The cave trembles again, more violently this time. Cracks appear in the stone ceiling, dust and debris raining down into the swift-flowing river. Our shadow-boat weaves through falling rocks, guided not by Kael's manipulations but by our daughter's will.

"She can't maintain this," I say, feeling her consciousness flicker with effort. "She's too young, too small."

Fear grips me—not the selfish fear of capture, but the deeper terror of watching my child endanger herself. The fierce protectiveness surprises me with its intensity. When did she become so precious to me? When did her safety become more important than my own?

Kael's expression darkens with determination. "The river junction lies ahead. If we reach it before the cavern collapses, we can access the secondary system that leads toward the Anomaly."

Our daughter's consciousness brushes against mine, projecting not distress but fixed purpose. She knows exactly what she's doing, the risk she's taking. The shadow patterns beneath her skin pulse with light so intense it illuminates the entire cavern, revealing a branching path in the river just ahead where the water divides around a massive stone column.

"There!" Kael shouts above the growing rumble of destabilizing rock. "The western branch!"

The shadow-boat surges forward, responding to both Kael's manipulation and our daughter's will. We're mere feet from the junction when the cave gives one final, catastrophic shudder. The massive stone column at the river's division point cracks, enormous chunks breaking free to crash into the swift current.

Our daughter's eyes flash with purple fire, her tiny hands raised as though directing unseen forces. Every shadow in the cavern responds, gathering around the falling rocks to create momentary barriers that redirect their path away from our vulnerable boat.

We shoot through the junction just as the main cavern behind us collapses completely, tons of rock crashing into the river with force that sends a massive wave surging after us. The shadow-boat rides the crest of this wave, propelled deep into the western passage before the water can settle.

The roar of destruction gradually fades behind us, replaced by the more gentle sound of flowing water. Our daughter's consciousness flickers like a candle in wind, her remarkable eyes dimming as the immediate danger passes.

"She saved us," I whisper, cradling her closer as I feel her small body relax into genuine sleep—not the alert monitoring of before, but the deep rest her developing form desperately needs.

"At significant cost," Kael says, his four arms working to maintain the shadow-boat as his own energy reserves show signs of depletion. "The power expenditure for one so young..."

Fear tightens my throat as I check our daughter more carefully. Her breathing remains steady, her tiny chest rising and falling in rhythm that appears normal. The shadow patterns beneath her skin have dimmed but not disappeared, pulsing gently with her heartbeat.

"Is she...will she be okay?" I ask, unable to hide the tremor in my voice. The question reveals more than I intend about my feelings for this child—this life that began as violation but has become something else entirely.

Kael's expression softens, one hand gently touching our daughter's head. The tenderness in the gesture makes my chest tighten with emotion I'm not ready to name. "Shadow demon offspring require periods of regenerative rest after significant energy expenditure," he explains. "Her hybrid nature appears to follow this pattern. She sleeps to restore what was depleted."

Relief washes through me, though concern lingers. "How long will she sleep?"

"Unknown," he admits. "Her abilities exceed normal parameters. The recovery might be hours or days."

Days without her guidance seems dangerously long when Obscura's forces remain in pursuit. But the collapsed cave system should delay them temporarily, giving us precious time to continue toward the Anomaly.

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