The Fork in the Depths

Enanita bursts into a wider junction beneath the mountain, boots splashing through shallow black water. The air tastes of ozone and wet stone, and dust shakes loose from the ceiling as muffled shouts chase them from behind.

She clutches the ledger tight while the two paths split before her, one steep and barred, the other low and flooded. Water ripples toward the dark crawlspace, where cold air breathes back like a hidden mouth.

Brann plants himself by the grate, watching the corridor. Veyl crouches beside the floodwater, already ready to slip into the dark. The pursuit grows louder, close enough to stir the lantern shadows.

Enanita reaches the threshold of the crawlspace, the ledger tucked against her ribs, as the first guards' footsteps echo into the junction.

Enanita catches the grate with one hand and the ledger with the other, then climbs. The iron bars shudder under her boots, but she moves fast, using the wall and the dripping chainwork as footholds.

Below, Brann turns at the scrape of metal overhead. Veyl points up into the dark shaft, her warning cut short by a fresh rain of dust.

Enanita hauls herself through the hatch into the chapel crypt above. Cold air replaces the damp flood, and a sliver of pale temple light cuts across the stone floor.

The sanctuary door stands ahead, cracked open by a finger's width. Through it, she hears only wind, incense, and the distant toll of bells.

Water drips from Enanita's sleeves onto the chapel stones as she reaches the threshold. Behind her, the grate clangs once, and boots strike the junction below.