Page 94 of Forged in Fire
“There.” I point to a narrow opening that leads deeper into the complex. “Emergency route. Should take us around the main security perimeter.”
She’s already moving, but pauses at the entrance to look back at me.
“Ready?” she asks.
This time, when I nod, I mean it.
The emergency passage winds through the mountain like the spine of some massive creature, carved from living stone by whatever power shaped this place. Natural phosphorescence provides dim illumination, just enough to navigate without giving away our position.
My earpiece crackles with Viktor’s voice: “Northern perimeter engaged. Syndicate forces responding as expected. You should have a clear approach to the chamber complex.”
“Copy that,” I whisper back, then switch to local comm. “Caleb, status?”
“Heavy resistance up here,” comes Caleb’s clipped response, punctuated by what sounds like controlled explosions in the background. “They’re pulling everything from the interior to deal with us. Whatever you’re going to do, do it fast.”
“Luke’s new diversions are working,” Viktor adds. “Their defenses are focused on our position. Chamber approaches should be lighter than anticipated.”
Perfect. The distraction is doing exactly what we hoped—drawing the Syndicate’s attention and resources away from the ancient passages that lead to Kieran.
Iris takes point, shadows extending ahead of her like creeping fingers, mapping dangers I can’t see. I follow at an appropriate distance—close enough to provide support, far enough to avoid crowding her.
It works. For the first time since we entered this mountain, we’re operating like a real team instead of two people trying to protect each other.
She signals a stop, her shadows drawing back with her. I move up carefully, letting my thermal perception paint the scene ahead.
Two guards. Alert but clearly expecting trouble from above, not from the forgotten passages below. Their positioning shows they’re focused on defending against the northern assault, not watching for infiltration through the ancient routes. Just as Viktor had hoped.
Iris looks back, eyebrows raised in question. I consider the angles, the sight lines, the timing required.
Then I make the call.
I gesture for her to stay in position and move carefully to the left wall, where the passage curves enough to provide concealment. She nods in understanding and begins gathering shadows around herself, preparing for coordinated action.
This time, when she disappears into darkness, I trust her to handle her part of the operation.
The guards die quietly—her blade from shadow, my fire from concealment, perfectly timed to prevent any alarm. Clean. Professional. Effective.
“Better,” she murmurs as we move past the bodies.
Much better. We’re finding our rhythm now, learning how our abilities complement each other instead of fighting for operational control.
The passage opens into a wider chamber, and suddenly we’re standing at the threshold of something ancient and impossible. The walls here pulse with their own light, veins of power that run through stone like blood through arteries. The air itself seems alive, thick with magic so old and deep it makes my dragon heritage sing.
“The chamber complex,” Iris breathes. “We’re close.”
Very close. I can feel it now—that massive presence Ember described, simmering in the depths below. Power beyond imagination, probably beyond control.
And somewhere in that maze of ancient passages and sacred spaces, the Syndicate is trying to wake it up using her brother as the key.
Voices echo from ahead, but different now. Not guards shouting orders, but something else. Something rhythmic and ceremonial.
Chanting.
Fuck!
“They’ve started,” I realize.
Iris’s face goes pale. “How long do these rituals usually take?”
