Chapter 44 — Rope and Weight
Wind ripped the breath from Becca's lungs as she fell.
Broken stone flashed beneath her in pale, jagged arcs through drifting dust. For a split second her body locked around the drop. Then her hands moved.
Her palm struck the beast pouch. The panther folded into light before it could leap. A heartbeat later the crow vanished as well.
The rope was already in her other hand.
She twisted midair and threw upward.
The loop snapped toward the griffin's shoulder and caught high along the wing joint. It slid once before biting down tight.
Becca yanked.
Pain tore through her battered shoulder, but the rope went rigid between them. The griffin's body jerked off line. Lightning cracked wild along its wings as lift broke under the forced angle.
They spiraled together.
The shattered ring balcony rushed up.
The griffin struck first. Its injured wing hit at a brutal angle and folded with a sharp, wet sound that carried across stone. The beast's cry tore through the chamber, raw and furious.
Becca hit a breath later.
Stone slammed into her side. Air burst from her chest as she rolled hard across rubble, rope still clenched in her fist. Grit scraped her cheek. Something tore along her hip.
She forced herself upright on one knee.
The griffin tried to rise.
One wing beat once, powerful enough to shove dust outward. The fractured side buckled under its weight. The beast lurched forward and crashed down again, talons grinding against stone.
Lightning surged down the rope and burned into her palms. Skin split where it dragged. She hissed and wrapped the slack around her forearm, locking the tension in place.
The griffin lunged.
Talons split stone inches from her boots. Its beak snapped toward her throat.
Becca hauled the rope sideways.
The injured wing jerked hard. The griffin's balance faltered.
"Go on," she rasped. "Try."
It drove forward again on fury alone. The fractured wing failed to carry the motion. Its chest slammed back into the broken balcony.
Dust hung thick between them.
Becca didn't give ground.
She leaned her weight into the rope, boots planted, burned hands steady despite the tremor in them.
"Enough."
The griffin's head stayed high, eye blazing. Its talons flexed, searching for leverage that wasn't there. Breath tore in and out of its chest.
A long second passed.
Its head dipped slightly, protecting the injured side.
Becca stepped closer.
The griffin snapped once, testing. She shortened the rope a handspan.
"Stay."
She reached for the damaged wing.
The joint sat wrong beneath feather, swollen and strained. When her fingers pressed near it, the griffin hissed and tensed.
"Yeah," she muttered. "That's bad."
It jerked again. She braced the rope and pressed her shoulder forward, pinning the wing in place.
"Hold."
The word came sharp.
The griffin resisted for a breath, then stilled.
Becca tore a strip from her sleeve with her teeth and wrapped the joint tight. Cloth darkened as it absorbed blood. She threaded the rope through the wrap and cinched it down to brace the wing against its body.
The knot came tight and ugly.
It held.
Lightning flickered faintly along the intact wing, then dimmed.
Becca rested her palm against the griffin's chest and felt its heart hammering under feather and muscle.
"Listen," she said, breathing hard. "You get one choice."
The griffin's eye locked on hers.
"You live," she said. "Or you keep pushing and we both bleed for it."
Its talons flexed once.
"I don't care which. But pick."
The griffin held her gaze.
Then its head dipped, small and sharp.
Becca let out a slow breath.
"Good."
She glanced upward. Another ring curved higher along the chamber wall, more intact than the shattered balcony beneath her. A fractured stair wound toward it.
She jerked her chin toward the ascent.
"Up."
The griffin pushed itself upright through stubborn strength. Its intact wing spread partially for balance while the braced side stayed tight against its body. Pain tightened its posture, but it climbed.
Becca moved alongside its good side, rope looped around her forearm. When its head angled toward her, she shortened the line again.
"Don't."
They reached the fractured stair.
Stone shifted beneath talons. The griffin climbed anyway, dragging the bound wing close. Becca climbed with it, shoulder throbbing with every pull, burned palms scraping rough rock.
Halfway up, the griffin faltered and leaned into her space.
She shoved back with her shoulder.
"You're heavy. Move."
It climbed.
They crested the stair and stepped onto the next ring.
Below them, the shattered balcony lay smaller in the chamber's belly.
Becca turned to face the griffin fully.
Blood streaked her sleeve. Dust clung to her hair. Her jaw held tight against pain.
"You and me," she said. "We finish this."
The griffin stood tall despite the brace.
Its head dipped once—brief and deliberate.
Becca's mouth curved.
"Yeah," she said quietly. "That's what I thought."
She adjusted the rope and started toward the archway carved into the inner wall.
The griffin followed.
---
Rei dragged his thumb along his jaw and paused.
The beard had filled in properly now. Not dramatic. Not wild. Just there. Enough that his fingers met resistance when he stroked it.
Water dripped somewhere deeper in the cave. The rhythm staggered. One drop lingered before falling. The next struck sooner than it should have.
He had stopped counting days.
Hunting had become routine. Growing food from damp soil with guided Dream had become habit. He had carved shelves into stone, shaped bowls, repaired cloth more than once. He had slept and woken and slept again until the cycle felt ordinary.
It felt like seasons.
He pulled up the timer.
Six days. Four hours.
His eyes stayed on it.
The cave air brushed his skin. His body felt older—leaner, steadier. Muscle had tightened and settled into something efficient. Scars had faded.
Six days.
He dismissed the display.
Only about a day had passed outside.
He looked toward the tunnels he had once tried to climb out through. Every one of them had curved back into the earth eventually. Every widening path bent downward if he followed it long enough.
He let out a slow breath.
Then he turned and walked deeper on purpose.
Jinx slipped ahead, a flicker of rust and motion. Vesper remained near his shoulder.
The air cooled gradually. Sound dulled. The walls narrowed and widened again in uneven stretches.
A pale crawler launched from a crack in the stone. Rei shifted his weight and let Dream flow without thought. A narrow edge formed along his forearm. He pivoted once and drove it through the creature's skull. The body dropped.
He did not slow.
Further down, stone-backed beetles burst from beneath a slab and clattered toward him. He exhaled and pushed outward with Dream. The pressure wave crushed one against the wall and flipped the other onto its back. He finished it with a quick strike and continued.
Months ago, those encounters would have forced him to brace.
Now they barely broke his rhythm.
The hum of his core shifted the lower he went. Not louder. Denser. Each breath seemed to stretch slightly longer before releasing.
He paused at a bend and watched a droplet fall from a seam in the stone. It hung in the air a fraction too long before striking the ground.
Rei crouched and let Dream extend outward in a thin sweep, brushing the air ahead.
Layered.
"Lower," he murmured.
The passage sloped more sharply.
A mineral figure separated from the wall ahead and swung a heavy arm toward him. Rei stepped inside the arc and let Dream carry him forward in a tight burst. His fist struck center mass with layered force. Stone cracked. He twisted and struck again, and the figure collapsed into rubble.
He stood still afterward, breathing even.
The cave did not rush him.
He continued downward.
The walls grew smoother. The air felt heavier.
Jinx slowed. Vesper pressed closer.
Rei kept walking.
Whatever anchored this place lay further below.