Page 84 of What Beats Within the Tunnels

The only light source stems from the fish and crustaceans. The amphitheater’s dome ceiling stretches up about fifty feet, and though it’s said to be the smallest of its kind here it teems with luminous crabs and snails, each radiating its own unique glow, reminiscent of stars.

“It truly is unparalleled,” Colton acknowledges, echoing Lyra’s sentiments. I can tell his mind is likely also burdened by past events.

Shaking the water from my hair, I ask Lyra, “Did you ever feel short of breath or uncomfortable?”

“No, I felt perfectly fine. I could’ve swum even further,” she responds, settling on the dark sand.

“That’s good to hear. Our journey to the next amphitheater will be longer,” I inform her.

“How many openings like this are there? And you both believe Samael is just hiding in one of them? How does he even survive down here?” she inquires, posing valid questions.

Colton says, “No one knows the exact count. We’re certain of at least three, but considering the portals and some caves being too deep for a breath-hold, there could be many more.”

Jumping in, I add, “Indeed, and the third room we’re aiming for is believed to be the most expansive. If the rumors hold any weight, he could comfortably sustain himself there, feeding on fish and relying on the plant life for oxygen.”

Lyra, appearing somewhat skeptical, asks, “So neither of you have been to this third room? You’re basing this on the assumption that it’s the largest amphitheater?”

I chuckle. “When you frame it that way, it does sound a bit sketchy. But, no, neither of us have. However, I am confident in its existence. I’ve reviewed maps and spoken to those who have ventured there.”

Impatiently, she retorts, “Then what are we waiting for?”

I glance at Colton, sensing our shared hesitation. Memories of Z resurface. She had been intoxicated and panicked underwater. Unlike then, we are sober now, and Lyra is prepared. The belief that we’ll all pull through steadies my resolve.

“The next stretch is longer and considerably narrower than the previous one. It’s imperative to remain calm, stay alert, and keep pace. We’ll need to move swiftly,” I caution.

Lyra’s expression hardens, her determination evident. “I understand,” she declares. And with that it seems we’re committed to continuing on.

I’m itching to leave this suffocating chamber. I nod to Colton, who returns the gesture with a firm glance. I then lock eyes with Lyra, instructing, “Deep breath.”

Without hesitation, we plunge into the water.

The entrance in the cave wall isn’t far, and I find it effortlessly, darting through with a fleeting glimpse to ensure they trail close behind me. I use the walls and floor to my advantage, pushing and propelling myself forward against a resistant current that fights to push us back.

Only moments in, an uneasy sensation creeps over me. Schools of Neostripe fish, which once illuminated our path, now dart past, spooked. A shadow seems to loom ahead, turning our illuminated path into complete darkness. The stark absence of their luminescence reveals my worst fear. The path is blocked. I momentarily panic but brush it off. The icy water feels like a million tiny needles on my skin, and the weight of it presses against my chest.

With the one-minute mark approaching and the familiar dull ache reminding me of my lungs’ limit, I scour the blockade in front of us, trying to find a way through. My fingertips, numbed by the cold, trace over the rocks, feeling for weak points.

Behind me, a sudden frantic tug—Lyra. Fuck, her breath is running out. Quickly, I find her face in the darkness, pulling her body up mine in the tight space and pressing my lips to hers, giving her the last remnants of my air.

Desperation seeps in, and I guide her hands to the rocks. Together, we claw, pull, and tear at the blockade, each second stretching into what feels like eternity. The cold water weighs heavily, causing my ears to ring and my heart to thud loudly in the confined silence.

As hope seems to be dwindling, the wall gives way. An overpowering rush of water propels us forward into the awaiting chamber. The faint, eerie glow from the marine life lights are way again.

My vision blurs, and spots cloud my sight. A fierce grip on my hand pulls me upward. It’s Lyra. Together, we breach the surface, gasping and choking for air. Colton surfaces right after us, coughing up water.

We all take a moment, relishing the sweet taste of oxygen. Lyra’s eyes reflect an intensity I haven’t seen since we were tied up in the throne room together, and I know she’s shaken. Reaching out, I reassure her, “You’re okay.” She nods, still catching her breath, and Colton grabs her face, embracing her in a tight hug, pressing her head into his chest. The display of affection makes me want to vomit, and I have to look away.

Lyra’s voice cuts through the moist air like a shard of glass. “We all could’ve died if we didn’t get that wall down. I can’t lose either of you.” She clings to Colton, her damp face emerging from his embrace to lock onto mine. The weight of her stare — my fiery princess, whose strength still manages to surprise me every day.

With a grunt, I pull myself up, the gritty feel of the shore beneath my boots grounding me. “Let’s move,” I declare, my voice echoing in the cave. While shadows dominate, the cave’s light-emitting foliage casts a soft glow, lighting our way.

“We might find another route – one above water,” I suggest, noting the uncertain terrain.

Colton, always the strategist, nods in agreement.

“Hidden paths aren’t uncommon in places like this.” We venture deeper into the cave.

Suddenly, Lyra’s voice rings out. “Here! There’s something!” She gestures toward a possible passage. I signal for Colton to lead the way. And though our journey is met with dead ends, we push on, searching cave after cave.