The halls stretch before us, dim and abandoned, the heavy silence broken only by the echo of our footsteps. Shadows flicker in the torchlight, but there’s no sign of immediate danger... no motion, no sound, beyond what we can hear of the battle outside.

  I glance at Luna. "Where did you see him last?"

  She nods toward the far stairwell. "Atop the eastern tower, it's the tallest. He was watching the battle from there. But after the Emberglass shattered the south wall... I lost sight of him. He vanished."

  "Then we go up. If he’s still watching, we might find him there."

  She nods again, and we climb. The keep narrows as we ascend, the crumbling stone walls slick with condensation. Spiral stairs wind upward past old guard stations and broken arrow slits, until finally we reach the summit.

  The room at the top is wide and open, a rounded chamber with tall windows facing the battlefield... but it's empty.

  Hmm... not here. Is he watching the battle from somewhere else?

  My eyes sweep across the chamber, ornate furniture, velvet drapes, a carved writing desk stacked with ledgers, it’s richer than even Two’s quarters. If I had to guess… this is Edric’s own room.

  A war table sits near the center, flanked by maps and missives. But no sign of Maldor.

  Luna frowns, stepping to one of the windows, scanning the outer wall. "He didn’t climb out," she mutters. "There're no footholds. How did he get to the roof? And... where is he now?"

  Luna paces the room slowly, eyes drifting upward as if trying to trace the route Maldor might’ve taken. Meanwhile, I look to the desk at the far end of the room. Papers are haphazardly strewn across it, seemingly with little care. I sift through them quickly until a letter catches my eye.

  What is this....?

  The seal depicts a two-headed dragon, rendered in deep purple wax. I’ve never seen it before. But the handwriting beneath it… that I know. The sharp, deliberate slant of each letter sends a cold tremor through me. I feel my breath slow as I unfold the parchment fully and begin to read.

  Edric,Chaos will earn you favor, but conquest is the key to a lasting victory. Ashkar Veyrn cares not for you, only for its own ends. Strike the town, claim it and uncover what is buried beneath. My brother will assist you. He knows what needs to be done.—One

  I stare at the name for a long while...

  One.

  It stirs something inside me... Fear? Nostalgia? It’s been years since I’ve seen him last, the first of us to leave Zaenith’s side, the one who disappeared before any of us truly understood what we were. Our eldest brother.

  The town...? Does he mean Ravencroft?

  Buried beneath it...? What could he possibly....

  Luna breaks the silence behind me, her voice low and grim. "We’re wasting time. He’s not here."

  I nod, carefully stashing the letter. "We should check his laboratory."

  She frowns. "But it's underground. He wouldn’t be able to see the battle from there."

  "Maybe he doesn’t need to. The spiders are already on the field. They’re not mindless, he wouldn’t have to guide them directly now that they’re unleashed."

  I gesture around the tower. "We can’t afford to search every window in this fort. We should at least search there first."

  Luna hesitates, thinking, then gives a curt nod. "Alright. Let’s go."

  We descend from the tower, the spiral stairs tightening as we pass through the main levels of the keep. Stone corridors give way to older passages, the mortar between the bricks crumbled to the point we could smash through the walls. Once we reach the ground floor, tucked behind a rusted gate beneath the kitchens, we our goal, a narrow stairwell leading underground, swallowed in shadow.

  "I hate this place," I mutter, snatching a burning sconce from the wall. The metal is hot, but I hold it tight, its flame casting wild shadows against the damp stone as we press forward.

  The air thickens the deeper we go, saturated with the stench of rot and decay. The walls constrict around us, slick with condensation and dark with old stains. The torch sputters in my hand, the warped metal casting unnerving shadows along the corridor. Each step forward draws us into what feels less like a basement and more like the guts of a carcass.

  Then, the tunnel opens.

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  Maldor’s laboratory stretches out before us, a vast, vaulted chamber carved directly into the bedrock. Stone pillars support a ceiling draped in chains and webbing, while alcoves along the walls glow with dull, green witchlight. Tables cluttered with alchemical tools, dissected corpses, and rune-inscribed parchment are arranged with a warped sense of precision. Jars of cloudy fluid line the shelves, each containing identifiable organic shapes, limbs, tongues, spines, and stranger things still.

  I'm back... hopefully, for the last time.

  It's just as disgusting as I remember...

  But... where are the prisoners?

  I look around. The hanging chains sway slightly in the still air, vacant now where the prisoners once hung. The familiar groans and broken pleadings are gone, replaced only by the slow drip of liquid, and the hard echo of our footsteps on the stone floor.

  That is until I hear, just faintly.... the sound of another.

  I stop cold.

  Luna notices. “What is it?”

  I don’t answer. Not right away. My gaze lifts, slowly, instinctively. Where I see a glimmer of movement.

  Above us.

  My throat seizes. A massive spider hanging from the ceiling, its body grotesquely swollen, the size of a hound. The hair on its body ripples as it shifts slightly, eight eyes watching us, clustered and wet, pulsing with something behind them.

  "Fuck!!"

  I stumble back with a shout, my back legs catching on a broken stool. I fall hard, grabbing Luna by the wrist as I tumble. She yelps in surprise, but doesn’t resist as I drag her with me, away from the hanging monster. We crash into a table behind us, splinters flying as wood breaks and elbows scrape stone.

  The spider drops fast, its stealth gone, scuttling toward us with terrifying speed. Luna moves first, light and quick. She springs to her feet and then vaults into the air, shortsword already flashing as she soars towards the monster.

  The creature rears up, four legs lashing outward, trying to snare her mid-air. But Luna's faster. Her blade slices clean through one of the reaching limbs as she twists in mid-leap, the severed leg tumbling aside. She lands hard, shoulder-first, rolling with a grunt.

  The spider pivots toward her, legs scrabbling for purchase as ichor spews from its severed leg.

  But I'm already moving. I rush forward and drive my sword deep into its abdomen. The steel bites through the slick carapace, and the thing lets out a high-pitched shriek. It thrashes violently, legs flailing in a grotesque death spasm before collapsing, twitching, into stillness.

  Luna winces as she stands, rubbing her neck.

  "It seems he has more spiders."

  Before I can respond, a rasping voice slithers through the darkness, reverberating from every wall.

  "Many more."

  It’s Maldor. His voice is cold and disembodied.

  I look up just in time to see more spiders descending, thick, bloated things on long threads, legs twitching, their bodies casting unnatural shadows in the witchlight. Other, smaller ones begin to crawl from cracks in the walls, dropping from behind loose stones and broken beams. Dozens now. A slow, creeping tide.

  "Fuck." Luna mutters, readying her blade.

  The first leaps, about the size of a cat. Luna meets it mid-air, the fine edge of her shortsword cleaving it in two. Another larger one rushes in and I catch it on my own sword, barely deflecting its fangs. We move back to back, fending off each attack as they come, one after another, skittering through the gloom.

  Luna pants between slashes. "Are you ready?"

  "We're right in the middle of them!"

  Another drops from the wall to my right. I spin, nearly slipping on the ichor-slick stone, and split its head before it can sink its legs into me.

  The spiders terrify me, Joss's mangled body flashing through my mind each time I see their fangs. One bite from behind, and it's over.

  Luna grabs my hand and yanks me through a narrow break in the swarm, weaving between thrashing legs and skittering limbs. But we don't run long, skidding to a stop in a narrow alcove, hemmed in by dangling chains and a solid wall of stone. A dead end. Trapped.

  We press our backs to the cold stone, the swarm converging ahead, spiders crawling over the floor, the walls, their sharp legs clacking against stone. Luna glances at me, breath tight. "Ready?"

  I nod.

  She draws the scroll from her belt, unfurling it quickly. The runes shimmer along the parchment as she raises her hand.

  "Smēorflōd!"

  A blast of dark oil erupts from her palm, roaring forward in a heavy torrent. The spiders hiss and recoil as the boiling stream crashes into them, coating their limbs and bodies. Luna sweeps her arm in a wide arc, drenching the floor, the walls, everything ahead of us in the slick, glistening fluid. The stench is vile, like scorched pitch and rot.

  But it doesn't last long. After a few moments, the spell sputters out, the last few droplets hissing from her fingers.

  The spiders are drenched, legs flailing, slipping, but.... they're undeterred. Despite the pain, they keep coming, crawling forward through the oil.

  We edge back to the wall as the spiders close in. Luna glances at me and nods, slipping away just as I dive to the floor, slamming my palm into the oil.

  For a heartbeat, nothing.

  Then.... sparks flash across my fingers.

  The oil ignites with a thunderous whoomph, flames exploding outward in a wave of searing light. Fire races along the floor, sweeping up the slick walls and hanging chains in an instant. The spiders screech, high and piercing, as the flames consume them. Some writhe and thrash, limbs beating at the air. Others roll violently, their legs flailing, but the fire clings to them, relentless.

  Luna and I pull our cloaks up over our faces, backing away as far as we can. Thin smoke rises from the flames, curling against the ceiling. But we hold our ground and watch the swarm burn.

  The flames die fast, and within minutes the heat fades, leaving the chamber cold once more. The floor is littered with blackened husks, charcoal spiders curled in death, their limbs twisted like scorched wire.

  I turn to Luna. We both sigh, tension bleeding from our shoulders.

  She grins faintly as she sheathes her blade. "Couldn’t have gone better."

  I return the smile, "You alright?"

  She nods. "Scrolls have their own store of mana. I’m fine." She rolls the parchment up and slides it back into her belt. "Two casts left. Hopefully that was most of his creatures."

  "Let’s hope," I say. "Ready to go?"

  "Yeah," she replies, taking the lead as we head deeper into the lab’s dark passage, a host of burnt spider corpses left in our wake.