Chapter 43 — Talons Claim Stone
Wind poured through the broken oculus in cold sheets and shattered against the chamber floor. Thin light sifted down and turned dust into slow ribbons that drifted and tore apart. Becca stepped out of the corridor and stopped just inside, eyes sweeping cracks, rubble, and the scoured circle at the center.
The crow wheeled beneath the opening, a hard silhouette against pale light. The lightning panther paced at Becca's left, stripe dim but alive beneath skin, shoulders loose until they weren't. Behind her, the boar planted its hooves and lifted its bristles, weight set as if it expected the first blow.
A griffin held the circle.
It stood with wings folded and talons sunk into grooves worn deep into stone. Feather and fur layered thick over a chest built for impact, scars cutting pale seams across hide. Lightning crawled along the edges of its wings and brightened as the air tightened.
Its eyes locked on Becca and stayed there.
Becca's hand found the beast pouch. The unicorn folded into light and vanished, clearing space without ceremony. Metal gathered at the back of her tongue; she swallowed once and set her feet.
The griffin moved.
Wings snapped open with a crack that shoved dust outward in a ring. The gust rolled low and slammed into the boar, hooves grinding as it slid and caught itself. Becca bent her knees with the pressure and held while the panther's claws bit stone beside her.
Talons raked down in a blur.
Lightning cracked as the panther met the strike, sparks spitting where claw hit claw. The impact drove the panther sideways anyway, shoulder skidding across grit. The griffin stayed on its line as if the contact barely mattered. Heat and ozone brushed Becca's cheek as the beak cut past close enough to taste the air.
Becca twisted and let it miss by a sliver. Her hand dropped, palm down, and the panther snapped back into her space instead of chasing an opening that would end it. Above them, the crow dove and pecked at the griffin's face, then shot back up on a hard wingbeat.
A wing swept low and dense.
The gust struck like a hammer. Dust stung Becca's cheeks and flattened the boar's bristles. The boar's head dipped for a breath, and talons came down on its back with a tearing sound that knotted her gut. Blood darkened hide in thin lines against pale stone.
The boar bellowed and shoved upward, tusks scraping as it tried to lift the weight. The griffin settled instead, wings half-spread for balance, talons digging deeper until the boar's legs trembled. A harsh shift ran through the chamber as bone gave under pressure.
Heat flared behind Becca's eyes. Her breath hitched, then snapped into a short pull of air she kept under control. The panther sprang with a crack of lightning and tore at the griffin's thigh, leaving a shallow rip and a smear of blood.
The griffin's posture held.
Its head turned toward the panther with a slow angle that promised consequence. The crow cut down again and struck the face, forcing the head to lift a fraction. That sliver of space gave the boar one more heartbeat to strain.
The griffin used it to end things.
A talon hooked under the jawline and tore. The bellow broke into a wet choke and collapsed into silence. The body slumped and stayed down, heavy as dropped iron, blood spreading where wind could not reach.
Cold opened in Becca's chest. Her jaw clenched until her teeth ached, fury pressed tight behind her face. The panther slid forward into a low coil, stripe blazing bright enough to throw quick flashes across the floor.
The griffin stepped off the carcass and shook once. Blood streaked its talons. Lightning brightened along wing edges until the air felt sharp. The crow spiraled up, then cut down again, denying a clean line toward Becca.
Becca moved.
She drove toward the griffin's side, low and angled. A wing slammed outward and the air struck her shoulder like a brick, pain flashing down her arm. Feather brushed her forearm—coarse, warm—and she pressed her palm into the base where wing met body.
Intent pushed through contact and caught.
A rough binding took shape through pressure and proximity and tugged back when the griffin tried to wrench away. Pain flared along Becca's forearm as the beast's strength poured into the pull. She sank her weight and held, boots sliding an inch before they found traction again.
The griffin rolled its shoulder hard.
Wind tore at Becca's hair and dragged it across her face. She moved with the roll and stayed close, denying the air a clean lever. Her free arm hooked around the collar where feather and fur layered thick. Talons snapped beneath her in sharp, searching strikes.
The panther sprang and met a reaching claw with a bright clash. The impact shoved it back, stripe flaring, and it landed in a skid before it recovered. Lightning crawled along its flank as it prowled for another angle.
Wings beat once. Then again.
Becca's boots lifted.
The lift turned violent in the space of a breath, dragging her upward as the griffin surged. Wind tore at her clothes and tried to peel her away. The binding shuddered under strain; her fingers tightened until knuckles burned.
The chamber fell away beneath them.
The boar's body lay dark on the scoured circle. The sight hit Becca like a blow. A raw sound rose into her throat; she crushed it down and clenched harder. The crow climbed toward them, then peeled away as the air near the wings sharpened.
The griffin rolled midair.
Becca's shoulder wrenched. The binding jerked hard at her palm. Wind surged into the gap and pulled with brutal force.
Her grip slipped.
For a breath she hung between lift and fall, pain roaring through her arm, fury burning behind her eyes. Feather slid under her fingers, then caught again as she clawed purchase. The griffin's beak angled down; lightning snapped brighter along its wings.
It twisted again—harder—and the air tore her loose.
She fell.
Wind screamed past her ears and stole breath from her lungs. Pale light and dark stone wheeled together. The scoured circle surged up, the panther flashing below like a streak of lightning and shadow, the crow diving after her in a black spear. Becca's arm burned, her teeth clenched, and the world rushed hard toward impact as she dropped through open air.
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Rei took the left passage because it sloped upward.
That was the only reason.
He had followed other routes that promised the same thing—lighter air, thinner stone, the sense of space opening—and each one curved back on itself or narrowed until progress meant crawling. This one climbed, even if only by a little, and that was enough.
The hum of his core stayed steady beneath everything else. Familiar. Background. He stopped noticing it unless something pushed back.
Jinx ghosted ahead, her presence flickering between solid and suggestion as she darted around bends. Vesper stayed closer, weight brushing the edge of his awareness, calm and watchful. Rei kept moving, one hand on the wall, the other free.
The floor dropped without warning.
Rei didn't break stride. He pictured a step as his foot fell, and Dream answered through the tail like it always did. Stone gathered just long enough to hold him, then crumbled once his weight passed. He didn't look back.
"Still up," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else, and kept climbing.
The passage widened into a chamber ribbed with mineral growths. Pale veins caught the light and reflected it back in broken patterns that made distance hard to judge. Rei paused at the edge, eyes flicking across angles and gaps.
Jinx froze mid-step.
Rei stopped with her.
Something shifted on the far side of the chamber—slow, heavy, unconcerned with being seen. Rei angled right, already looking for another way through. The Dream-tail slid forward as naturally as a hand, testing the air ahead for give.
The space folded.
Not collapsed. Redirected.
The right-hand wall curved inward where it shouldn't have, narrowing until the path squeezed down to nothing. Rei stared at it for half a second, then laughed once, quiet and sharp.
"Of course."
Vesper pressed closer. Jinx flicked her tail and darted upward, vanishing into a narrow crack near the ceiling. Rei followed, hauling himself up with the Grip Gloves biting into stone. He wedged his shoulder through the opening and dragged the rest of himself after.
The crack opened into another tunnel.
It sloped downward.
Rei stopped at the threshold and stared.
For a long breath, he considered turning back.
Then something rumbled behind him—deep enough to be felt more than heard—and dust sifted down from the ceiling. The opening he'd climbed through tightened by a fraction, stone grinding against stone.
Rei exhaled and stepped forward.
"Down it is."
The tunnel curved, then split. Rei took the right fork, then the next, then another, chasing airflow and light that never quite delivered. Each time he expected a turn to rise, it leveled out or dipped lower instead.
He didn't slow.
Dream flowed with him now, tails moving like extra limbs as he braced against drops, bridged gaps, and shaped quick tools without breaking pace—a spike to wedge a door, a slab to block a rush of water, a cup formed and discarded between steps.
He passed a pool he would have sworn hadn't been there before.
He passed it again later from a different angle.
Jinx chuffed in irritation and darted ahead. Rei followed, jaw set, curiosity sharpened into something stubborn. The cave kept offering paths that looked right and bent wrong, and Rei kept taking them anyway.
By the time he stopped, the air had grown colder and the stone underfoot darker, threaded with faint, unfamiliar patterns.
Rei rested his hands on his knees and caught his breath. The hum tightened for a moment, then eased as he straightened. He glanced back the way he'd come.
The tunnel behind him had narrowed to a slit.
He looked forward instead.
"Alright," he said, a crooked grin tugging at his mouth. "Let's see where this one goes."
Jinx darted ahead. Vesper followed. Rei stepped after them, deeper into the cave that refused to let him leave.