Page 73 of Savage Devotion
"Good thing I'm not careful then."
I slip into the darkness before he can argue further.
The tunnel extends deeper than expected, carved from natural stone but reinforced with timber supports and metal brackets. Definitely professional work, not the hasty excavation of desperate smugglers. Someone invested significant time and resources in making this passage permanent and functional.
The chemical smell grows stronger as I move deeper, accompanied by other scents, lamp oil, metal polish, human sweat. Active occupation, not abandoned storage. I pause at regular intervals, listening for movement patterns and trying to map the acoustic signature of the space ahead.
Voices become clearer as I approach what sounds like a larger chamber. Two speakers, maybe three, discussing timing and placement in the clipped, efficient tones of military professionals. Not smugglers. Soldiers.
Vaelmark soldiers.
House Vaelmark personnel, operating in territory that should be neutral ground, with chemical weapons and explosive devices. Not just spying or gathering intelligence, but actively preparing for military action.
What the hell is Heldrik planning?
I edge closer to the chamber entrance, staying pressed against the tunnel wall where shadows provide better concealment. The voices are clear now, discussing placement of charges and timing of detonation. They're not trying to escape the tunnel collapse. They're the ones who caused it, trapping me and Kaelgor while they complete their preparations.
"Primary charges are set along the northern support columns," one voice reports. "Secondary charges positioned at the main tunnel junction."
"Timing?"
"Fifteen minutes once we activate the primer sequence. Should be enough time to reach minimum safe distance."
"And the targets?"
"Contained in the eastern section. No escape routes once the primary charges detonate."
Targets.Plural. They know both Kaelgor and I are here, know we're trapped, and they're planning to bring down the entire tunnel system with us inside.
This isn't a reconnaissance mission or intelligence gathering. This is an assassination attempt.
I retreat carefully, mind racing through tactical options. Two or three armed soldiers, unknown weapons complement, chemical compounds that could explode if mishandled, and a timer counting down to tunnel collapse. Even if I could neutralize the hostiles, the charges could detonate automatically.
But there's something else. A detail that doesn't fit the immediate tactical picture.
The voices mentioned charges along the northern support columns and at the main tunnel junction. But this tunnel branch extends southward from the junction, which means there should be additional passages or chambers that weren't mentioned in their preparations.
Additional passages mean potential escape routes.
I move back toward Kaelgor's position, but before I can reach him, a new sound stops me cold. Metal scraping against metal, followed by a sharpclickthat every soldier learns to recognize.
A flare trap. Pressure activated, designed to illuminate extensive areas and temporarily blind anyone caught in the activation zone. But if there are chemical compounds in the air...
Oh shit.
The flare ignites with a brilliant white flash that turns the tunnel into a blazing corridor of death. Chemical vapors explode into flame, racing along the tunnel walls faster than thought. I have maybe a second before the fire reaches the main chamber, where Kaelgor is waiting.
I don't think.
I run.
Stone barrels line the tunnel walls as water storage for the smuggling operation, heavy enough to disrupt the fire's path if I can overturn them fast enough. I slam into the first barrel with my shoulder, using momentum and desperation to tip it across the tunnel mouth. Water floods across the stone floor, but the chemical fire is already racing overhead.
The second barrel is heavier, or I'm already moving wrong, because it barely shifts when I hit it. The fire is closing distance, brilliant and hungry and absolutely deadly. I brace my feet against the tunnel wall and push with everything I have, feeling something tear in my shoulder as the barrel finally tips.
The third barrel catches me as it falls, hundreds of pounds of clay and water and metal binding crashing down across my ribs. Pain explodes, but the water spreads across the tunnel floor in a wide pool that might slow the chemical fire enough to matter.
The blast wave hits me like a giant's fist, lifting me off my feet and slamming me backward through the tunnel. Rock fragments rain down from the ceiling. The world becomes light and heatand the overwhelming pressure of air trying to escape through passages too small to contain it.
