“So, what’s the plan?” I asked as Rob and Amelia led me deeper into the quarry tunnels.

  I knew the stories. Spriggans creeping out of ruins, hoarding scraps, biting at ankles. None of them ever explained how you were meant to fight one, let alone what to do when you wandered straight into a nest.

  The stone walls closed in as we moved. Amelia murmured a few quiet words and the torchlight softened. The smoke thinned, the glare dulled, yet the tunnel ahead remained clear and bright. Useful magic. Quiet magic.

  She unwrapped a couple of dense bars with one hand that smelled faintly of honey and grain and took a quick bite as we walked. I knew better than to comment or reach for one. Amelia and her fuel were not to be interrupted.

  “Alright,” Rob said, turning back to me. Firelight caught the edge of his grin. “We keep it simple.”

  Amelia folded her arms. “Simple for you usually means stupid.”

  “Efficient,” he corrected. “You’re up front, Sean. Shield stays low so they don’t bite your ankles. You hold the line and keep them from slipping past.”

  My fingers tightened around the shield’s rim, its weight suddenly more real. That part, at least, made sense.

  “Spriggans swarm,” Amelia said. “If they get around us, we’re done. I’ll stay back and thin anything that tries to circle or climb.”

  Rob nodded once. “I stick close. Anything that slips past you doesn’t stay standing.”

  I looked from one to the other as we slowed our pace. Front, flank, distance. It all lined up neatly in my head, but my pulse still quickened, thudding loud enough that I worried they might hear it.

  Rob’s eyes drifted, not to my shield, but lower. They lingered at my hip for just a moment too long.

  “That blade of yours,” he said, casual, like the thought had only just occurred to him. “Mind if I take a swing with it for a bit?”

  My stomach tightened.

  “No,” I said, the answer came instantly, sharp and absolute, but it jammed somewhere between thought and breath. I kept my face still, forced my shoulders loose. The sword’s weight seemed to shift against my side, heavier than before, as if it had drawn a breath of its own. “It’s better if I keep hold of it.”

  Rob blinked, surprise flickering before he smoothed it away. He lifted one shoulder. “Fair enough. Just thought I’d ask.”

  Amelia snorted. “You and your fascination with swords. This isn’t the time to play knight in woollen armour.”

  “Hey, I was only curious.”

  “Then be curious later,” she said, tapping the dagger at his belt. “And stab more.”

  I smiled and let the tension pass. Inside, my thoughts tangled. Whatever the blade was, whatever it had already shown me, I was not ready for anyone else to see it. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

  “Positions,” Amelia said softly.

  The tunnel seemed to tighten around us as we slowed. The air ahead felt still, heavy, as if the stone itself were listening.

  “Yeah, well, anyway,” Rob went on, lowering his voice. He sounded almost cheerful, which did nothing to ease my nerves. “Spriggans are nasty, sure. In numbers they can swarm you. But that only happens when there’s a real treasure hoard involved.” He gave a short, dismissive laugh. “I doubt this dingy hole has anything worth that kind of trouble.”

  I took a slower look around. The mine cut through the earth like an old scar, its edges rounded by time. Wooden supports sagged under their own weight, soft with rot and furred with mould. The stone walls wept dark moisture, pale strands of clinging growth brushing my sleeves as we passed.

  “This place isn’t going to collapse on us, is it?” I asked. “You know, canary-in-the-mine sort of thing?”

  Rob shook his head. “Nah. Different departments have used these tunnels for training for years. Never had a problem.”

  “Then why seal this one?” Amelia asked, her voice barely above a breath.

  Rob shrugged. “Like I said. Guards blocked it off so the young nobles could have their fun without anyone else getting in the way.”

  I let out a slow breath. The thought of others like Nick claiming private ground to butcher creatures for sport sat badly in my gut, even if those creatures were vicious. The feeling lingered as we moved deeper into the dark.

  “So,” I murmured, keeping my voice low, “tell me about them. I know the theory, but I’ve never actually fought one.”

  Amelia answered at once. “They’re small. Angry spirits, really. Thieves by nature. They love treasure.” Her torchlight slid over the stone as she walked. “They build bodies out of whatever they can steal. Sticks, stones, roots, scraps of metal. Something vaguely human.”

  “Creepy as hell,” Rob added. “Especially at night. Shadows never line up right. Makes your skin crawl.”

  Amelia nodded. “On their own, they’re nothing special. But they almost never stay alone. If they don’t scatter, they swarm.” She looked back at me, eyes steady. “That’s when people get hurt.”

  “And don’t stress about going full beast mode like you did with the dummy,” Rob added in a lower voice. “The sticks and rocks aren’t really them. Just a shell.”

  “Like clothes?” I asked.

  “More like armour,” he said. “Or a puppet they carry with them.”

  I swallowed and tightened my grip on the shield, the leather creaking softly under my fingers.

  “Great,” I whispered. “So, we’re picking a fight with angry treasure-hoarding ghosts puppeteering rocks and sticks.”

  Rob grinned in the dark. “Now you’re getting it.”

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  Rob lifted a hand as we moved, fingers twitching through a few practiced signals. “Their sight and hearing are sharp,” he whispered, “but they’re used to the dark. The torch will sting their eyes for a heartbeat. That’s our edge. Once we’re close, we strike.”

  Amelia shot him a look. “We need a way to talk without telling them three idiots just walked into their home. And no, Rob, not your bird whistles.”

  His shoulders dipped a fraction. “Alright. Clicks?” He snapped his tongue once, sharp and dry, the sound echoing faintly off the stone. “Close enough to how they sound.”

  She paused, listening to the echo fade, then nodded. “That’ll do.”

  They went over it quickly. One click meant move. Two meant incoming. Three meant run.

  We pressed on in silence. The tunnel stretched narrow and dull, air heavy with damp stone and old rot. My boots scuffed softly against the ground, every sound seeming louder than it should have been. Time blurred. Twenty minutes, maybe more.

  Then I heard it.

  A skittering, like insects scraping across bone and rock. Claws dragging. Thin whispers threading together in a rhythm too deliberate to be chance. The sound of something small and hateful, speaking to itself in the dark.

  We stopped at once.

  Rob dropped into a crouch and pointed ahead, then toward a side passage where the tunnel pinched narrow. Amelia slid closer to the wall, lowering the flame until it was little more than a dull glow. Her eyes stayed fixed ahead.

  Rob made a single-clicking noise. We moved without a word.

  I brought the shield up and eased my sword free. The blade caught what little light there was and swallowed it, the metal darkening instead of shining. I pretended not to notice the way Rob’s gaze flicked toward it, or the quiet interest in Amelia’s expression. Now was not the time.

  As discussed, I took the lead.

  The clicking ahead sharpened as I edged forward, a dry, chittering sound that set my teeth on edge. My boot scraped grit and the noise seemed to echo down the tunnel. I froze, breath caught in my chest, then eased my foot back.

  I forced myself to change how I moved. Weight forward. Steps light. The pads of my feet found the stone, one careful placement at a time. Each breath felt too loud.

  I moved on, slow and quiet, the sound drawing closer with every step.

  I edged around the corner.

  The first spriggan lingered just beyond the torch’s reach, half-lit and half-swallowed by shadow. It came up to my knee at most. Thin. Crooked. Its body looked assembled rather than grown, sticks bound together with stone and scraps of root, joints set at angles that made my eyes itch to follow.

  It shifted, and the sound was wrong. A dry scrape, like pebbles dragged across bark.

  Its face caught the light for a heartbeat. Too many sharp lines. No softness anywhere. Stone plates pressed together where a mouth should be, clicking faintly as it breathed. The eyes were small and dark, sunk deep, reflecting the flame without warmth. Someone, somewhere, had once tried to make it look human and given up halfway through.

  I stopped breathing without meaning to.

  Movement flickered behind it. Another shape slid against the wall. Then another. Shadows detached themselves from the rock, their clicking overlapping, low and impatient.

  A series of low clicks drifted out of the dark, uneven and sharp, like stones tapped together in irritation. Something flashed between them. Silver. One tugged it away. Another snapped back, their clicks rising and falling in quick bursts that felt almost like an argument.

  My grip tightened on the shield as I edged closer, straining for a clearer look. Behind me, the others followed in silence. Amelia’s torch crept forward a finger’s width at a time, its softened glow peeling the dark back inch by inch.

  I raised my sword hand and held up three fingers where Rob could see. He met my glance and gave a single, sharp nod.

  I took one more step.

  The clicking died.

  Their heads turned toward me in unison. Beady eyes caught the torchlight and reflected it back, dull and hungry. Clawed hands lifted. Stone teeth grated together, slow and deliberate.

  The bracelet slipped from forgotten fingers and clanged against the stone.

  Then they rushed me.

  I somehow managed to brace myself before the first slammed into my shield, the impact unexpectedly rattling up my arm. I lowered the shield to the ground and crouched, just in time to trap one claw beneath its rim. Another thud hit an instant later as the second spriggan hurled itself at me, the weight of it jarring my stance as the dark closed in.

  Heat washed over me without warning. I glanced up for a heartbeat and caught the blur of movement as a spriggan leapt overhead. Flame poured from above, striking it midair. The blast whooshed past my face, close enough to curl the ends of my hair and sting my skin.

  “Sorry,” Amelia called, already moving.

  Heat washed over my back as a tongue of flame flared above me. A spriggan leapt from the wall, only to be caught midair and blasted aside. The heat singed my hair, and the smell of scorched wood filled the tunnel.

  A spriggan’s face snapped up over the rim of my shield, all jagged stone and glittering eyes.

  Something silver flashed past my shoulder.

  Rob’s dagger hit it a heartbeat later.

  The blade buried itself square between the creature’s eyes with a dull crack, the impact snapping its head back and ripping it free of the shield. It vanished into the dark with a clatter of stone and splintered wood.

  The tunnel answered with more clicking.

  It came from deeper ahead, fast and agitated. I caught glimpses of movement as shapes shifted beyond the torchlight, scraping along the walls.

  Two sharp clicks echoed behind me.

  Thud.

  Something slammed into my shield hard enough to jolt my arm. Rob was already moving, another dagger flashing into his hand, then a second. Steel whispered through the air.

  The pressure against my shield changed.

  The spriggan I had pinned earlier twisted beneath it, a clawed hand snaking up the edge and scraping toward my face. Stone fingers screeched against metal.

  I didn’t hesitate.

  My grip tightened on the black blade, and I drove it forward beneath the shield’s rim. The metal cut clean. The limb cracked and tore free, breaking apart in my hand as the creature shrieked and recoiled. Fragments of rock and wood scattered across the tunnel floor.

  “Move the shield aside,” Rob called.

  I hauled it myself and leaned to the side and stepped back, opening space in the narrow passage.

  Rob slipped past me in a blur, boots barely touching stone. A flick. Then a stab. Both strikes landed fast and precise. Two spriggans collapsed into loose heaps, their clicking dying out in a brittle rattle.

  Heat surged overhead.

  Flame poured down the tunnel as Amelia loosed another blast, the fire racing farther than before and lighting the depths ahead. Shadows leapt along the walls, stretching and twisting into shapes that made my stomach knot.

  The dark beyond the flames felt very awake.

  They were everywhere.

  Movement crowded the edges of my vision. I caught one darting in and lashed out on instinct, my boot slamming into something far harder than flesh. Pain shot up my leg as stone met bone, but the impact still sent the spriggan tumbling, its body breaking apart as it skidded across the floor.

  Rob was already among them.

  Steel flashed in tight arcs, his blades rising and falling too fast to follow. Limbs shattered. Bodies burst into loose piles of sticks and rock. I brought my shield down on another, the impact jarring my arms as it crumpled beneath the weight, clicking madly until the sound cut off.

  We were thinning them out. But it wasn’t enough.

  “Shit!” called Rob. “We gotta run!”

  Then the tunnel roared.

  Fire burst outward in a single, violent surge. Heat slammed into my back and drove the air from my lungs as the tunnel flooded with light. Yet the fire did not burn me. Amelia dropped to one knee at the edge of the blaze, one hand braced against the stone, breath coming in harsh pulls as the flames bit into the passage and curved around us.

  Shadows tore themselves across the walls. Spriggans caught in the wave shrieked as their stolen bodies blackened and split, sticks snapping, stone cracking, spirits scattering in sparks and ash.

  For a heartbeat there was nothing but heat. Stone popping. The thick, bitter stink of scorched earth and sap.

  Then the ground shuddered.

  The fire guttered, thinning fast. Rob was already moving, skidding to Amelia’s side as she sagged forward, her shoulders trembling. I scanned the tunnel. Beyond the fading light, shapes stirred again. More movement. More clicking, sharper now, closer.

  Smoke clung to the ceiling, heavy and choking.

  “Uh… oh,” Rob said, his voice tight.

  He pointed past me.

  The tunnel groaned.

  I turned just as one of the wooden supports gave way. The beam sagged, glowing faintly where the fire had kissed it, then split with a dry crack. Dust rained down. Another tremor rolled through the stone.

  “Shit!” I shouted, lunging toward them.

  The ceiling answered first.

  Stone broke loose overhead, the sound deep and final, and the tunnel collapsed around me.