Pyn's grin carried the easy arrogance of a predator who already knew it had won.
The group followed her because they had no choice.
The border had refused them—cold and absolute. Hope now wore a crooked smile and walked ahead without fear. Every fluid step Pyn took scraped against Lyra's nerves. Lyra trudged behind, armor heavy, sword hilt biting into her palm, eyes locked on the woman's back.
Pyn moved like the forest was a ballroom—short swords swaying, posture loose, confident. Too confident.
Instead of leading them toward Avalon's shining gates, she veered into the forest's black heart.
The mist thickened until even sound felt swallowed. It pressed cold against skin, tasting faintly of iron. Roots twisted underfoot like grasping fingers. Rory's chatter died to nothing.
Even Pyn's playful expression sharpened.
"This way," she whispered. "Don't disturb the moss. And don't breathe too loud."
They stopped before an ancient oak, its trunk wide enough to swallow a cottage. Roots sprawled outward like a serpent coiled in sleep.
Lyra saw only bark and shadow—
until Pyn pressed three fingers against the trunk in a precise rhythm.
The ground trembled.
Roots shifted. Stone groaned.
With a deep, ancient sound, the earth split open, revealing a spiral staircase descending into blackness.
Rory swallowed. "You're… coming with us, right?"
Pyn glanced back, eyes gleaming. "Wouldn't miss it, kid."
Elise pulled Rory closer.
The descent swallowed them.
Cold air seeped into their lungs, thick with stone and stagnant water. Each step echoed too loudly. Moisture whispered down the walls. Selene slipped her hand into Lyra's, fingers threading together. The contact steadied them both.
Shawn brought up the rear, shield raised, gaze fixed on Pyn.
The deeper they went, the worse it became. Sweet rot clung to the throat. The walls pulsed faintly beneath their palms.
Trap, Lyra's instincts screamed.
But desperation forced her forward.
The passage opened suddenly into a cavern vast enough to swallow their torchlight.
Fire burned in sconces along the walls, shadows jagged and restless. At least fifteen figures lounged near a central pit—bandits by armor alone. Their laughter was ugly. Their eyes too bright.
Lyra's hand moved toward her sword.
Pyn lifted a palm. "Relax. I know them."
The bandits turned.
Their leader—a thickset man with a greasy beard—rose slowly. His gaze crawled over the group… then fixed on Selene.
"Well, well," he slurred. "Pyn brings gifts now? And what a pretty one."
Selene stiffened, instinctively retreating behind Lyra.
"Stay away from her," Lyra said. Low. Deadly.
The man laughed. "Soft skin. Pretty eyes. I'll take her."
Lyra's fingers tightened. "Touch her—and you lose the hand."
Laughter rippled.
Then Pyn stepped between them, smile lazy.
"She does attract trouble," she said lightly. "But don't worry, Olek. I brought you a surprise. And it isn't her."
She grinned.
Then she moved.
Not a warning. Not a shout.
Steel flashed.
The first man's throat opened without a sound. The second fell clutching his chest. The third managed a scream before his head struck the stone.
Three bodies hit the floor.
Silence slammed into the cavern.
"You killed my men!" Olek roared, drawing steel.
"I warned you," Pyn replied lightly. "You irritated me."
Then the sound came.
Wet. Bone-deep.
Flesh stretched. Bones cracked.
Jaws forced outward. Scales rippled across skin. Wings tore free in sprays of blood.
Selene gasped.
"Gods…" Shawn whispered. "These aren't bandits."
Pyn's grin sharpened. "Welcome to Avalon."
Chaos erupted.
"Shawn—right! Elise—left!" Lyra barked.
Steel met claw as she charged. Blood sprayed hot against her cheek as her blade cleaved through scaled flesh. The creature shrieked—half-man, half-beast—and staggered back. Lyra followed through, pivoting hard, armor screaming as she drove her sword beneath its ribs and twisted. It collapsed in a heap.
To her right, Shawn became an unbreakable wall.
A winged beast slammed into his shield, talons scraping. Shawn dug his heels into the stone and roared, slamming forward. Bone cracked. He struck again—once, twice—until the creature's skull caved inward.
Elise moved like shadow.
She slid beneath snapping jaws, daggers flashing. One blade hooked behind a scaled knee, slicing deep. The beast howled and fell. Elise rolled clear and shouted, "Now!"
Rory's hands shook as he loaded the sling.
He swallowed hard. The stone flew—fast, true—striking the creature's temple. It convulsed once, then stilled.
"I—I got it," Rory whispered.
Another monster burst from the shadows—
A scaled hand shot out, seizing Selene's arm.
She screamed as she was yanked forward, satchel tearing from her shoulder. The grip burned cold, inhumanly strong.
"SELENE!" Lyra roared.
Lyra released her sword and slammed into the beast bodily, driving it into stone. Claws raked her armor as she drove a dagger up beneath its jaw again and again until the grip loosened.
Selene collapsed to her knees, gasping.
Before another creature could reach her, Pyn was there.
Twin blades crossed. The monster's head struck the stone and rolled.
Pyn glanced down at Selene, breathless grin sharp. "Careful, moon-girl. They like you."
Lyra stepped between them instantly, one hand gripping Selene's shoulders, the other raising her blade.
"Back away."
Pyn's smile only widened.
The last creature fell with a broken cry.
Silence returned—heavy and alive.
Blood slicked the stone. Fire crackled. Breath rasped.
Pyn sheathed her blades smoothly.
"I was getting tired of them guarding the entrance," she said with a smirk.
Her gaze locked with Lyra's—challenge burning bright.
"See? This is how you enter Avalon."
Lyra said nothing.
Her sword hung heavy. Her pulse thundered.
She tightened her grip on Selene's hand.
The path ahead lay open—
but Lyra knew, with absolute certainty—
the true battle had only just begun.