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“When I woke up, my hands were covered in ash… as if I’d physically been here.”

“Dream walking,” Branwen hums. “How strange. I’ve never actually met anyone who can do it outside of my family.”

“Can you do it?”

It’s so dark now that I feel rather than see Branwen’s shrug.

“Not the way you’re describing. My great-aunt Elaine could, but she couldn’t control it. She only managed it a few times in her life. I’ve been told that my grandmother’s great-grandmother could do it at will. And apparently, she did. All the time.”

I don’t get to ask any of my dozen follow-up questions, because the ground begins to shake beneath me. It starts as a vibration, barely discernible over the sound of our footfalls splashing through the water. I stop, cocking my head and straining to listen.

Branwen stops as well, extending a hand as though she can feel what’s wrong in the air around us.

The tremors increase, growing steadily more intense. Pieces of dirt and rock that have been clinging to the ceiling and walls fall around us, splashing into the water. Over the sound of detritus skittering against the rock, comes another sound, louder and deeper. It sounds like a far-off drumbeat, but as it grows closer, I finally realize what’s happening.

Another Earthquake.

Branwen looks over her shoulder, and her eyes widen as pebbles fall like raindrops around us. Grabbing my arm, she spins and charges forward, tugging me behind her.

“Run!”

I don’t ask questions. I run.

The far end of the cavern groans. Rocks fall, pelting us hard enough to leave bruises before landing in the water at our feet. I lift an arm over my head to try and protect myself, but all it does is make it harder to see as I struggle to keep up with Branwen. We’re both panting as we push ourselves to run faster, something that’s already difficult with water up over our knees.

Oh gods, I’m so out of shape; this feels impossible!

Behind us comes what sounds like an ancient Beast waking from a nightmare. I crane my neck to look behind me just as the ceiling of the cavern cracks and splits as it begins to give way.

The crash of the rocks shearing apart is deafening. I can’t even hear myself scream as a rock the size of a bike falls, splashing just three feet behind us.

I don’t know who reached for whose hand, but we hold on tight, fingers twined together, and keep running. It’s a struggle, both of us panting for breath and splashing through the resistance as the water steadily climbs higher. The further we push, the deeper it becomes, until it’s a living, churning, violent entity threatening to sweep our feet from under us and drag us to our deaths.

With a final, deafening roar, the entrance to the cavern collapses. Jagged rocks and razor-sharp stone fall in a single, chaotic rush.

Sealing the exit behind us.

I look over my shoulder and gasp at the impossibility of what I find. Where just minutes before there’d been empty space and high ceilings, now only piles of rubble and rock remain.

“Keep going,” Branwen urges, tugging my hand insistently. But it’s almost impossible to regain momentum. The water is a roaring tempest of freezing rapids, surging up to my waist. But I push on, fighting against the current with my jaw clenched to keep my teeth from chattering.

Ten more feet and it’s up to my chest, and only getting deeper.

Right when I think we might have to start swimming, Branwen tightens her grip on my hand and pulls, eyes trained straight ahead and full of determination. A wide grin stretches across her face, and a moment later, I realize the ground is starting to incline. We climb until we are finally, blessedly, out of the water.

We don’t slow down. Feet slipping on wet rock, hands slapping and grasping at slick walls in an effort to keep our balance, we race on. Branwen’s hold on me is unyielding, a steady anchor in the chaos.

The water reappears, surges around my ankles, and makes me groan in dismay. Our path starts to decline, and as the water rises back up to my waist, it takes everything in me not to break down and cry.

Just when I’m starting to wonder if this tunnel will ever end, the cave narrows, just like it did in my dream. Turning sideways, we inch along until the passage widens.

And the ground beneath us disappears, sending us free-falling through open air.

I know I’m screaming, but I can’t hear anything over the deafening roar. The world becomes a tumble of water and air, black and white, light and dark. I have a fleeting thought that I should close my eyes, but I don’t. Or maybe I can’t.

We fall through freezing spray, and all I can see are stalactites and stalagmites as I struggle to decipher which way is up and which is down, exactly like what happened in my dream.

With a splash, we plunge into a body of water so cold my limbs seize up. For an endless heartbeat, I struggle to move, convinced I’ve broken something during the fall.