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Cole followed her out of the room. “I don’t remember you being so confident and commanding. It’s very attractive.”

Eirwen shot him an icy glare. “I wasthirteen, and you are just as vile as I remember.”

Cole shrugged. “You’re not thirteen any more…”

She drew her blade back to his throat. “I will use this.”

“Point taken.”

They stepped out of the armoury and ascended the staircase into the main corridor. The sound from the great hall intensified, as did a low scuttling around them.

Damn, damn, damn…

“Rats?” said Cole hopefully.

“Quiet.”

He was lucky to have made it so far down without encountering any resistance, but an utter fool for being so unprepared. Why had he come down alone, anyway? Surely he had an army of knights at his command–

“You going to tell me what’s going on?”

“Ssh!”

She tried to gauge the direction of the sound. There were definitely a few in the great hall, but by the entrance? She wasn’t sure…

“This way,” she said, jerking her head. “Keep your sword drawn.”

“Well, I wasn’t about to put it away…”

Eirwen shook her head and crept out, slowly, carefully, not trusting her boots not to make a sound. She tiptoed across the marble, Cole following her with exaggerated steps.

Something scuttled across the entrance. Cole stopped. “What was that?” he hissed.

A problem.Another two followed it.

Should they make a run for it, possibly attracting more? Was stealth still the best option?

She rarely had to engage them, evading them wherever she could. It was Onyx’s first rule of surviving down here; never start a fight. Do whatever you could to avoid confrontation. The shades appeared to have some kind of hive mind. Engage one, and half a dozen were on you before you knew it.

Something moved to the side of her, a wheezing, guttural sound chopping through the air.

Eirwen turned. A few feet away one of them stood with its lopsided form, its wide unblinking, milk-white eyes staring at her from its shrunken, pitch-black, oily skin.Once, centuries ago, it had been a dwarf. That much was still obvious in its short, stout stature and wide features. But something had happened to it, something no one understood. Some said they were dwarves that dug too deep into the pit, and saw something that they weren’t supposed to. Others said it was a virus, that their black blood would twist you, too. No one knew.

What they did know was that they were strong, that they did not feel pain, that they did not stop unless you made them.

The shade lunged.

Eirwen darted backwards, letting it barrel into the wall and slashed across its neck, kicking it down to bleed out while another launched its attack. She vaulted over its back, streaming towards the others, cutting wherever she could and hoping Cole was smart enough to follow her. The entrance was swarming with them.

No, no, no…

She turned, flying back along the corridor as they flooded the space, into the great hall.

There were easily twenty. She had never faced so many before. The floor of the great hall was covered in shards of glass, multiplying the white, unending stares.

Cole’s back slammed against hers.

“It appears we’re outnumbered,” he said. “I’m sincerely hoping you have a plan.”