Page 66 of Savage Devotion
We position the three soldiers at strategic points, each with specific instructions about timing and positioning. Jorik will create a distraction from the eastern approach, drawing attention while Maren and Beck circle around to block the western exit. Ressa and I will approach from the main tunnel, trigger the ambush, then retreat to the collapse point.
"On my signal," I tell them. "And if something goes wrong..."
"We adapt," Ressa finishes. "Complete the mission."
The plan executes smoothly at first. Jorik's distraction draws movement and voices from the intersection—at least four people, possibly more. Their positioning confirms my suspicions about the trap: crossbows aimed at the main approach, backup fighters positioned to cut off retreat.
Ressa and I advance with obvious torchlight, making ourselves visible targets. The whispers grow frantic, Echo Spirits recognizing the approaching violence and responding with increasing agitation.
"Death... death comes... run..."
Twenty yards from the intersection, crossbow bolts fly. We dive for cover behind carved stone pillars, letting the ambushers reveal their positions through muzzle flashes and shouted commands. I count voices, trying to estimate numbers and identify leadership.
"Now!" I shout, and Jorik begins his assault from the eastern tunnel.
Chaos erupts as the ambushers realize they're being attacked from multiple directions. Shouts, weapon clashes, the distinct sound of steel meeting steel in close quarters combat. Perfect cover for our real objective.
I lead Ressa toward the structural weak points I'd identified, pulling her away from the main battle. The support beams are exactly where I expected, massive stone pillars that have been bearing the collapsed temple sections for decades.
"Here," I point to stress fractures already visible in the ancient stone. "Concentrated force at the base."
We work together, using our weapons as improvised tools to widen the existing cracks. The stone is old, weakened by time and the constant moisture of underground drainage. Eachimpact sends vibrations through the tunnel system, and I can feel the instability spreading.
"Danger... collapse... flee..."
The Echo Spirits are screaming now, their warnings overlapping in a cacophony of supernatural terror. They can sense what's coming better than any of us—the approaching moment when gravity and engineering finally overcome human stubbornness.
"How much more?" Ressa asks between strikes.
"Almost..." A chunk of stone falls from the ceiling, missing my head by inches. "Almost..."
The crack spreads suddenly, racing up the support beam like lightning. I grab Ressa's arm and pull her toward what should be a safe position, but the collapse is faster and more extensive than I anticipated.
The ceiling comes down in sections, each failure triggering the next. Dust fills the air, thick as smoke, reducing visibility to arm's length. The sound is overwhelming, not just the crash of falling stone, but the groaning of an entire structural system giving up its decades-long battle against entropy.
When the dust settles, we're alone.
The tunnel has collapsed completely between our position and the intersection where our soldiers were fighting. No sounds of battle. No voices calling for help. Only the disturbed stone whispered as it settled, and the Echo Spirits murmured again, joined by fresh company.
"Ressa." I reach for her in the darkness.
"Here." Her voice is steady despite everything. "Injured?"
"Cuts and bruises. You?"
"Same."
I relight our torch with shaking hands, revealing the extent of our situation. The collapse has sealed us into a small chamber, maybe twenty feet in diameter. They've completely blocked theentrance we use. The passage leading deeper into the tunnel system, though partially obstructed, might be passable.
Isolated. Cut off from backup. Limited supplies.
Classic definition of a tactical nightmare.
"Well," Ressa says after surveying our surroundings. "This complicates things."
The torch flame wavers in my grip, casting shadows that dance like memories across the collapsed stone. Twenty feet of space. Maybe less. The walls close in with each breath, and suddenly I'm not in Ember Hollow anymore.
I'm twelve years old, following Thek through the Crimson Mines.
