The heat shimmered faintly, blurring the edges of it. He watched the distortion instead of the stars.
Luna didn't press. She never did when she said something that mattered.
They broke camp early.
Not because Kara ordered it—but because no one slept well enough to argue for staying. Packs were strapped on in silence, movements practiced, economical. Elara rose slower than usual, rolling her shoulders once before settling the strap across her chest. She didn't move to the front.
Drake noticed where Kara's eyes went when the formation re-formed.
Front. Then center. Then back.
Calculating.
They moved.
The next stretch of canyon felt different. Narrower, but not tighter. The ground held more consistently, the slope gentler than anything they'd crossed since entering. It was the kind of terrain that invited momentum.
Xander noticed too. "Finally," he muttered. "A path that doesn't hate us."
Kara didn't answer. But she didn't slow them either.
They picked up pace.
That was when the tremor hit.
Not violent. Not sudden. A rolling vibration that traveled through the stone beneath their feet, like something large shifting its weight far ahead of them.
Elara stopped instinctively—then frowned. "I can't tell where that came from."
"Forward?" Xander guessed.
"Maybe," she said. "Or below."
Kara raised a hand, signaling a halt. "We don't rush this."
Drake looked ahead.
The path dipped again, shallow but wide, leading into another basin—smaller than the last, but shaped similarly. Smooth stone. Few breaks. Nowhere to take cover once you committed.
He felt it before he thought it.
If something came up from below, this time, Elara wouldn't have the air to read it early. Luna would have to react instead of prepare. Kara would be making calls mid-contact.
They'd be late.
Drake stepped forward.
Not fast. Not dramatically. Just one pace ahead of where Kara had stopped.
"I can anchor the basin," he said. "Briefly. Just to see what's moving."
Kara turned immediately. "That's not—"
"I know," he said. "It's not clean. But it'll give us information."
Elara's brow creased. "Your timing—"
"I won't push it," Drake said. "I'll keep it shallow."
Xander glanced between them. "He's not wrong," he said carefully. "If something's down there, better we know before it decides."
Luna didn't speak.
Kara held Drake's gaze for a long second.
Then: "One attempt. You feel resistance, you stop."
Drake nodded. "Understood."
He moved to the edge of the basin and knelt, palm resting against the stone. He didn't sink into it the way he normally would. Didn't reach.
He pressed.
The response came late—but it came.
Stone beneath the basin stiffened, vibrations flattening as if muffled by a heavy blanket. The tremor dulled, then shifted—redirected along a different fault line.
"There," Drake said. "Something moved. It pulled away."
Xander exhaled. "Good call."
Kara studied the basin, then the walls. "All right," she said. "We cross. Same formation."
When they stopped again, the tension eased—just a little.
"That worked," Xander said. "Cleanest crossing we've had all day."
Kara nodded once. "It did."
Drake straightened, rolling his shoulder. The ache flared sharper than before, then settled into something deeper. He ignored it.
They moved on.
Ten minutes later, the ground behind them gave way.
Not where they stood—where they'd been.
A deep, grinding collapse rolled through the basin, stone plates shearing downward as whatever Drake had redirected surged back into the space he'd stabilized. The sound echoed up the canyon, heavy and final.
Elara stopped, staring back. "If we'd still been in there…"
"We wouldn't have cleared it," Luna finished quietly.
Kara looked at Drake again.
"You didn't anchor," she said. "You displaced."
Drake swallowed. "It held long enough."
"Yes," Kara said. "And then it corrected."
Xander rubbed the back of his neck. "So… success?"
Kara didn't answer right away.
They stood there, listening to the echoes fade.
"We're through," she said at last. "But that wasn't free."
Drake nodded. He already felt it—the way his arm hadn't fully stopped shaking, the way the ground beneath his feet felt just a little less responsive than it had an hour ago.
They continued on.
No one said anything else about it.
The canyon narrowed again, but not sharply—its walls slanted inward at a shallow angle that forced the path to curve rather than compress. It made judging distance difficult. Everything felt closer than it was.
Kara adjusted the pace without calling it out. Not slower. Just uneven—shorter pushes followed by longer pauses, the kind of movement that kept everyone slightly off rhythm.
Drake noticed the change immediately.
He stayed where he was.
The ground held. Mostly.
Once, his boot slid half an inch on stone that should have been solid. He corrected without thinking, then caught himself and forced the adjustment to stop there.
Xander glanced back, eyebrow lifting. Drake shook his head once.
They moved on.
Elara walked with her eyes half-lidded now, listening more than watching. When she spoke, it was rarely about what was ahead—only about what they'd already passed.
"Vent behind us shifted," she said once. "Heat's rolling back through the upper channel."
Kara nodded. "Noted."
Nothing changed.
That was the problem.
The longer they went without incident, the more the silence pressed in—not tense, not threatening. Expectant.
They reached another split in the path. One branch dipped shallow and wide, the other cut upward into a tighter climb that disappeared quickly into shadow.
Kara stopped.
Xander leaned in. "Map?"
She shook her head. "Doesn't cover this section cleanly."
Elara frowned. "Air's moving wrong in both directions."
Luna adjusted the strap of her pack. "Which one costs less?"
Kara didn't answer right away.
Drake looked at the upper path. Then the lower.
He didn't step forward.
The pause stretched.
Finally, Kara pointed. "We take the lower route."
No one argued.
As they moved, Drake felt the urge again—not sharp, not urgent. Just present. The sense that if he acted now, he could smooth the uncertainty. Make the choice easier. Faster.
He didn't.
They descended.
Behind them, somewhere deeper in the canyon, stone shifted—not violently, not suddenly. Just enough to close the space they'd left behind.
No one turned around.
Behind them, somewhere deeper in the canyon, stone shifted—not violently, not suddenly. Just enough to close the space they'd left behind.
No one turned around.
The path ahead narrowed into a shallow descent, the floor sloping unevenly toward a darker channel where heat gathered low and heavy. The walls here were smoother, worn down by time or pressure, it was hard to tell which. Sound didn't travel well. Footsteps felt muted, swallowed almost as soon as they landed.
Kara slowed them without signaling. The change rippled through the formation naturally—Xander easing his pace, Luna drifting closer to the center, Elara pausing longer at turns she would normally clear without stopping.
Drake stayed quiet.
They passed another junction. This one wasn't marked. No etched stone. No debris from earlier traversals. Just two paths diverging at a shallow angle, both disappearing quickly into shadow.
Kara stopped.
"This isn't on the map," she said.
Xander glanced over her shoulder. "I'm starting to feel like that's becoming a theme."
Elara crouched near the split, eyes closed, listening. She stayed that way longer than usual.
"Air's moving," she said finally. "But it's inconsistent. Something's cycling deeper down."
"Which way?" Kara asked.
Elara hesitated. "I can't tell cleanly."
Silence settled.
Drake felt it then—the familiar urge, dull but persistent. The sense that if he stepped forward, placed a hand to the stone, nudged the ground just enough, the answer would surface. He could feel the shape of it, hovering just out of reach.
He didn't move.
Luna glanced at him briefly, then back to Kara.
Kara studied both paths again, then straightened. "We take the left."
No one argued.
They committed.
The canyon tightened gradually, the ceiling lowering just enough that heat began to pool overhead instead of dispersing. Progress slowed. Packs scraped stone more often. Elara winced once, pressing a hand to her temple before forcing it back down.
They didn't stop.
A while later—how long, no one could say—the floor dipped sharply, dropping into a narrow channel choked with fractured rock. Not impassable. Just tedious.
Xander climbed down first, then turned to help Luna. Kara followed, steady and careful. Elara came next, slower, movements deliberate.
Drake waited.
When he stepped down, the stone shifted under his weight—not collapsing, just settling into a configuration that felt… final.
He paused, then climbed the rest of the way down.
Behind him, the ledge gave a soft, grinding sound as a slab slid free and wedged itself into the descent path above.
Kara looked back.
Not alarmed. Not panicked.
"Can we climb back up?" Xander asked.
Kara studied the angle, the new obstruction, the way the stone had locked into place. "Not cleanly."
Elara frowned. "I didn't feel that coming."
Luna tightened the strap on her pack. "Neither did I."
The silence that followed was heavier than before.
Drake stared at the blocked descent, his hand flexing once at his side.
He hadn't stepped in early.
He hadn't forced the ground.
He had done exactly what he was supposed to.
Kara exhaled slowly. "We keep moving," she said. "Forward only."
No one disagreed.
They turned and followed the channel deeper into the canyon, the path behind them sealed just enough that going back no longer felt like an option.