Chapter 21

After several grueling hours of trudging through the rain-soaked wilderness, we finally found something resembling shelter—a narrow cave mouth tucked into the rocky side of a ravine. It wasn't much, just a black maw in the cliff face barely wide enough for us to squeeze through. The wind whipped past us, rattling through the trees and carrying the cold spray of rain. Karvek's men were shivering violently now, their cloaks plastered to their backs, and even Lisett's usually steady steps were dragging. I led the way in, holding Skarnvalk at the ready in case something nasty had decided to make the cave its den.

The air inside was sharp and cool, with the faint metallic tang of wet stone. My boots echoed faintly as I stepped further into the dark, my fingers brushing the damp walls. "No tracks," I muttered over my shoulder. "Doesn't look like anything's been in here for a long time."

Lisett ducked under the low entrance and cast a wary glance around. "You'd know if there were goblins or worse in here?"

I grunted. "I've got a nose for it."

Karvek followed, his sword out and his eyes narrowed. "Better to be sure. Could be something deeper in."

"Could be," I said. "But for now, it's out of the rain."

The others shuffled in, one by one. Karvek's men looked like half-drowned rats, their faces pale and their clothes hanging off them in wet, heavy folds. They dropped their packs and weapons onto the rocky floor with soft clatters, their movements slow and weary. No one said much as they huddled close to the wall, trying to wring water from their cloaks. Lisett pulled off her gloves and inspected her hands, her fingers red and raw from the cold. "We need a fire," she said quietly.

"No dry wood," I replied, gesturing around. The cave was bare stone, no signs of vegetation or anything we could use for fuel.

Karvek lowered himself onto a flat slab of rock near the entrance. "We'll dry out as best we can, but we should stay quiet. No telling who or what might be close by."

The thought of remaining in damp clothes made my skin crawl. There was nothing worse than cold and wet—two things that could sap your strength faster than a blade to the gut. I shrugged off my pack, carefully unbuckling the straps that held my armor plates. Each piece was wrapped in rough cloth, keeping the worst of the rain off. I laid them out on the ground, inspecting them closely. The forge-work from Barak-Khald still held strong—no rust, no warping—but they'd need oil before long. I kept a small jar tucked away in the pack, just enough to coat the edges and joints.

Lisett knelt beside me, rummaging through her bag. "You're just going to sit in wet clothes all night?"

"What else would you suggest?" I muttered, not looking up. "Strip naked and run laps around the cave?"

Her lips quirked in a faint smirk. "Might get your blood flowing, at least."

I let out a low chuckle, despite myself. "I'll pass."

We settled into an uneasy stillness. The sound of dripping water echoed from somewhere deeper in the cave, a soft, rhythmic plinking that set my teeth on edge. Karvek's men shifted against the wall, muttering quietly amongst themselves. I watched them out of the corner of my eye. They were tough bastards, but they weren't indestructible. If we didn't give them time to recover, they'd drop in the next fight. And if that happened, we'd be down three blades when we needed them most.

After a while, I stood and stretched my legs. "I'm going to take a look around," I said. "See how deep this place goes."

"Alone?" Lisett asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not planning on getting lost," I said. "If it's just a small cavern, we'll know. If it opens up into something bigger, better to find out now than later."

"I'll go with you," Karvek said, pushing himself up. He winced as he stood, one hand going to his side. "I could use a walk."

"Fine," I said. "Lisett, keep an eye on the others. If we're not back soon, start worrying."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm always worrying. Go on, then."

Karvek and I ventured deeper into the cave, stepping carefully over uneven ground. The air grew cooler the further we went, the dampness clinging to my skin. The narrow tunnel began to widen, the walls spreading out until we were walking through a larger chamber. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, their tips glinting faintly in the low light. I ran my fingers along the stone, feeling grooves and striations that spoke of ancient movements—geological shifts, long-forgotten water flows. But something else caught my attention as well. Faint marks on the floor, not natural, not random. Tracks.

"Someone's been here," I said, my voice low. "Long time ago, maybe, but these aren't just cracks in the stone."

Karvek squinted at the ground. "Dwarves?"

"Could be," I said, though I wasn't sure. The patterns were faint, worn down by time, but they reminded me of old mine carts, the kind we used to haul ore back home. I crouched and ran my fingers over a faint groove. "This could've been a rail. Tracks leading deeper into the mountain."

Karvek frowned. "Could it lead to Brugath's Hollow?"

I straightened, my mind racing. The directions we'd been given to the mine suggested it wasn't far, and these tracks seemed to head in that direction. "It's possible," I said. "If we follow these, we might find our way there faster than we thought."

"Or stumble right into their guards," Karvek said, his hand resting on his sword hilt.

"Could happen," I admitted. "But either way, we'll know what we're dealing with."

He nodded grimly. "Then let's keep moving. Quietly."

We pushed on, the damp air growing colder as we descended. The faint echoes of water dripping turned to a low, distant rumble, like a hidden underground river. The walls closed in briefly, forcing us to squeeze through a narrow passage before opening into another wide chamber. And there, in the faint light, I saw it—a massive, ancient door carved into the stone, its surface etched with runes so worn they were almost illegible.

Brugath's Hollow.

I let out a slow breath. The dwarves hadn't abandoned this place on a whim. Whatever lay inside had driven them out. And now it belonged to the Path.

The ancient door loomed before us, its worn runes faintly visible in the dim, wet gloom. I could barely make them out, but what I could see set my teeth on edge. These weren't the ornate, celebratory carvings you'd find in a stronghold meant to endure for centuries. They were warnings—simple, direct, and carved with a trembling hand. Whatever the dwarves had once unearthed here wasn't meant to see the light of day.

"Brugath's Hollow," Karvek muttered, his breath visible in the chill air. He ran a hand over the grooves in the stone. "Looks like it's seen better days."

"No kidding," I replied, keeping my voice low. The air had a strange weight to it, thick and damp, clinging to my skin. "You feel that?"

Karvek nodded. "Feels… wrong. Like the air's too heavy."

"Something here didn't want to be dug up," I said. "And we're standing right at its doorstep."

"Or inside it," he pointed out. "If these tracks lead straight into the mine."

I stared at the door, my mind racing. The Path wasn't just using Brugath's Hollow for convenience. They'd chosen it for a reason. Maybe they didn't understand the danger, or maybe they thought they could control it. Either way, they weren't here for iron or gold. They were after whatever it was the dwarves had left behind, and that thought chilled me more than the air in the cave.

We made our way back to the others, our footsteps echoing faintly against the stone walls. Karvek kept his hand on his sword hilt the entire time, his eyes darting to every shadow and crevice. I wasn't much better. Even with Skarnvalk in hand, I felt the cold fingers of unease crawling up my back. It wasn't just the thought of what lay beyond that door. It was the sense that something was watching us—something that knew we didn't belong here.

The mercenaries were huddled together against the cave wall, still shivering despite their best efforts. Lisett glanced up as we approached, her expression guarded. "Well?"

"It's not just a cave," Karvek said grimly. "This leads straight into Brugath's Hollow."

Lisett straightened, her brow furrowing. "Then we're already there?"

"Close," I said. "Too close."

Her gaze darted between the two of us. "So what's the plan? Go in? See what the Path's doing?"

"Not yet," I said. "We need to think this through. Whatever drove the dwarves out of that mine wasn't something small. If we rush in without a plan, we'll end up just like them."

"Dead," Karvek said flatly.

Lisett nodded slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. "Then we wait. Rest, get our strength back. But we need to keep moving soon."

"We'll rest," I said. "But keep an eye on that door. I don't want any surprises."

She gave me a small, grim smile. "I'm always watching."

The hours that followed were slow and heavy. The cold seeped into everything—our clothes, our bones, even the food we managed to scrounge from our packs. The mercenaries barely spoke, their exhaustion so deep that they fell asleep sitting up against the rock wall. Lisett tended to her supplies, carefully re-wrapping her bandages and checking her few remaining vials of medicine. She didn't say much to me, and I didn't push her. We both needed the silence to think.

I ran my hand over the plates of my armor, checking each joint, each rune. They still held strong, but I'd need to oil them soon. A few more days of this damp and they'd start to pit, no matter how well I'd forged them. Skarnvalk rested at my side, its runes faintly gleaming in the dim light. I didn't trust the hammer's seeming eagerness—it always felt too alive, too watchful—but I couldn't deny that it had saved my skin more times than I could count. If whatever was in Brugath's Hollow decided to show its face, I'd be glad to have it in hand.

The next morning—or what passed for morning in that damp, sunless hole—I woke to the sound of Karvek's men stirring. They looked no better than the day before. One was trying to shake the stiffness from his legs, his face pale and drawn. Another was picking at a small scrap of dried meat, chewing so slowly it was like he hoped to make it last longer. The third sat motionless, his spear resting across his lap, staring blankly at the cave wall. It wasn't just hunger or exhaustion. They were breaking.

"They're not going to make it much longer," Lisett said quietly, sitting beside me. Her voice was low, almost a whisper, but her tone was sharp. "If we don't do something soon…"

"I know," I said. I glanced over at Karvek, who was checking his gear with mechanical precision. "He knows it too."

"So what's the plan?"

I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling the ache of days without proper rest. "We need to find out what's inside Brugath's Hollow. Figure out what the Path's doing. But we can't just charge in. If we're going to survive this, we need to play it smart."

Lisett gave me a sidelong look. "You mean not hitting them head-on and hoping for the best?"

I snorted. "That's exactly what I mean. We need to scout, find their weak points. And if there's something in there that drove the dwarves out, we need to know what it is before we walk into it blind."

"And if it's something we can't handle?"

I didn't answer right away. My hand tightened on Skarnvalk's grip, the weight of the hammer reassuring. "If it's something we can't handle, we do what we can to bring it down. And if that fails, we run."

Lisett nodded slowly. "And then what?"

"Then we find another way to fight the Path." I looked at her, my expression hard. "One way or another, we don't stop."

Her lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn't argue. She just nodded and turned back to her pack, leaving me with my thoughts.

As I sat there, the faint echo of dripping water and the oppressive silence of the cave pressing down on me, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were on the edge of something far bigger than any of us had imagined. The Path wasn't just mining ore or searching for treasure. They were playing with something dangerous, something old. And whether we liked it or not, we were the ones who had to deal with it.

No turning back now.

The ancient stone door stood silent, its worn runes faintly visible in the dim, shifting light of our torches. Karvek's men had said little, their faces drawn and pale as they adjusted their straps and tightened their cloaks. Lisett's eyes lingered on the carvings, her brow furrowed. She had patched up the worst of their wounds, but nothing she carried could fix exhaustion that ran this deep. I watched as she tied off the last of her medical supplies, shaking her head at the sorry state of things.

"Looks like we're doing this," Karvek said. His voice was steady, but I caught the flicker of doubt in his eyes as he ran a hand down the grip of his sword. It was still battered, its edge nicked and dull. He'd been through worse, I knew, but this time felt different. This time, he wasn't just leading a mercenary band on a simple contract. He was walking into something far older, far darker.

I grunted, adjusting the straps of my pack and cinching them tight. The weight of my armor pressed against my back, the cold steel wrapped in rough cloth to keep it quiet. My hammer, Skarnvalk, rested in my hand, its heft familiar and solid. The runes etched along its surface seemed to flicker in the low light, though I knew it was just my mind playing tricks. Still, I couldn't help feeling that the hammer knew what lay ahead, and that it wasn't looking forward to it any more than I was.

Lisett glanced at me, her expression half curiosity, half frustration. "What's your plan?"

I met her gaze. "We go in slow. Quiet. If something's waiting on the other side of this door, I'd rather know about it before it knows about us."

Karvek nodded. "Fair enough. And if we run into a fight?"

"We make it fast," I said. "No drawn-out battles. We don't have the strength for that."

The door's surface was cold to the touch as I pressed my palm against it. The stone was worn smooth in places, but I could still feel the faint grooves of the carvings beneath my fingers. My gut told me this wasn't just a barrier. It was a threshold, a point of no return. On the other side was something the dwarves hadn't wanted to face, something they'd rather abandon than confront. But we didn't have the luxury of turning back.

I took a breath, steadying myself. "Karvek, help me push."

Together, we leaned into the door. It didn't move at first, the weight of centuries holding it in place. But with a low groan, the stone began to shift. Dust rained down from the frame, and a faint, stale breeze wafted through the opening as it widened. The smell hit us next—earth and rot, a deep, sour scent that made my nose twitch. It wasn't just the smell of an abandoned mine. It was something else. Something older.

The door scraped open enough for us to slip through, and I took the first step inside. The others followed in silence, their boots crunching on loose stones and scattered debris. The passage beyond was narrow, the walls close and the ceiling lower than I liked. Our torches threw long shadows against the rough stone, and every sound seemed amplified, echoing down the dark corridor.

"Stay close," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "We don't want to lose each other in here."

Lisett fell in behind me, her steps quiet but steady. I could hear Karvek's men breathing heavily as they brought up the rear. They didn't complain, though. They knew better than to waste energy on words. The only sound was the faint drip of water from somewhere deeper in the mine, each drop echoing like a heartbeat.

As we moved further, I kept my eyes on the walls, looking for anything out of place. The faint tracks we'd seen earlier grew more defined—old grooves worn into the stone floor, likely from mine carts that had once hauled ore to the surface. But there were other marks too. Scratches that didn't look natural. Claw marks? I wasn't sure, but they made my grip on Skarnvalk tighten.

The air grew colder the deeper we went. I could feel it through my gloves, a chill that wasn't just the temperature. It seeped into my skin, into my bones. Lisett muttered something under her breath, too quiet to hear, but I saw her glance at me and then at the walls, her eyes wide. She felt it too.

"What the hell happened here?" Karvek asked, his voice low.

"Something the dwarves didn't want to face," I said. "They left for a reason. Let's hope we don't find out what it was."

The passage opened into a larger chamber, the ceiling disappearing into darkness above. Our torchlight couldn't reach the top, and the flickering glow barely touched the edges of the space. Scattered around the floor were broken beams, rusted chains, and piles of crumbled stone. I could see where the tracks branched off, disappearing into smaller tunnels that led who knew where.

"This is the main hub," I said. "Tracks lead off in all directions. If the Path's been using this place, we'll find signs of them here."

Lisett crouched by a pile of debris, her hand brushing over something metallic. "Looks like a weapon," she said, holding it up. It was a pickaxe, its head rusted and its wooden shaft splintered. Not something you'd want to rely on in a fight, but definitely dwarven craftsmanship.

"We're on the right track," I said. "Stay sharp."

Karvek gestured to his men, and they fanned out slightly, checking the edges of the chamber. No one spoke. The air was too heavy, the sense of unease too strong. Every step felt like it might wake something, something that had been waiting in the dark for far too long.