CHAPTER ELEVEN
Cracks in the Foundation
Something was wrong with the harbor.
Orion noticed it first during their morning walk to the guild—a wrongness in the water that he couldn't quite articulate. The waves seemed sluggish. The seabirds that usually filled the air were conspicuously absent. And there was a smell, faint but unmistakable, rising from the docks.
"Do you smell that?" he asked Nera.
"Smell what?" She sniffed the air. "I smell fish. Salt. Festival food cooking somewhere."
"Under all that. Something else."
She sniffed again, more carefully. Her tiny face scrunched. "It's... I don't know. Off? Like something rotting, but not quite."
"That's what I thought."
They weren't the only ones who'd noticed. A group of fishermen had gathered at one of the docks, arguing in low, worried voices. Orion caught fragments as they passed—"never seen the tide like this" and "fish are staying deep" and "old Maren swears she heard singing from the caves last night."
"The caves," Nera murmured. "Like the sound you heard yesterday."
"I thought I heard something. I wasn't sure."
"And now people are hearing singing?"
"Apparently."
They exchanged a look—the kind of look that couples develop over years, conveying entire conversations in a glance. Something was happening. Something connected to the caves. And they were probably the only people in the city who had recently killed a bunch of creatures down there.
"We should investigate," Nera said.
"I agree."
"After the festival?"
"...probably before."
"But the ceremony—"
"—can wait if people are in danger."
Nera's wings drooped slightly, but she nodded. "You're right. Ceremony later. Investigating mysterious possibly-dangerous sounds now."
"That's the spirit."
"I'm going to resent this later, just so you know."
"Noted."
* * *
The guild was buzzing with rumors.
Orion and Nera arrived to find adventurers clustered in groups, trading information and speculation. The atmosphere was different from the previous days—less celebration, more concern.
Della was at the reception desk, looking harried. When she saw Orion approach, something like relief flickered across her face.
"Stargrass. Good. You cleared the Saltmaw Caves, right?"
"About a week ago. Why?"
"Because they're acting up again." She pulled out a stack of reports. "Three separate accounts since last night. Strange noises, lights in the cave entrance, and—" She hesitated. "—singing. People are reporting singing coming from underground."
"Singing like what? Voices?"
"No one can describe it properly. They say it's beautiful but wrong. Like music that makes you want to walk into the water." Della's expression was grim. "Two fishermen went missing last night. They were found this morning on the beach near the caves, alive but... not right. They don't remember anything after sunset. Just the singing."
Nera had gone very still on Orion's shoulder.
"Has the guild sent anyone to investigate?" Orion asked.
"We sent a Silver party at dawn. They came back an hour ago." Della glanced around, lowering her voice. "They wouldn't go inside. Said there was something at the entrance—something they couldn't see but could feel. The leader—a veteran, twenty years experience—said it felt like being watched by something hungry."
"But we cleared those caves. We killed the queen. The infestation should be gone."
"The crawlers are gone. Whatever's down there now is something else." Della met his eyes. "You were the last ones in those caves. You might have seen something, noticed something that could help. Would you be willing to take another look?"
Orion looked at Nera. She looked back at him.
"We'll go," he said.
"Thank you. The guild will compensate you for any—"
"We're not doing it for compensation." Orion took the reports from her desk. "We're doing it because we might have caused this."
"Caused it? How?"
"I don't know yet." He turned toward the door. "But I intend to find out."
* * *
They found Vex and Denna at a tavern, nursing their wounded pride after finishing fifth in the treasure hunt.
"It's not my fault!" Vex was saying as Orion approached. "The clue was ambiguous! 'Where law holds sway' could have meant the jail! It was a reasonable interpretation!"
"It was not a reasonable interpretation."
"Jails are related to law!"
"Courthouses are more related to law. That's why they're called courthouses."
"We need your help," Orion interrupted.
Both of them looked up. Something in his tone cut through their bickering.
"What's wrong?" Denna asked.
"Something's happening in the Saltmaw Caves. The ones we cleared. Strange sounds, missing fishermen, adventurers too scared to go inside." Orion set the guild reports on their table. "We're going to investigate. I'm asking if you want to come."
Vex's expression shifted from petulant to serious with surprising speed. Whatever his faults, he wasn't a coward.
"You think there's something dangerous down there?"
"I think there's something. Whether it's dangerous remains to be seen."
"And you want backup."
"I want competent fighters who won't panic." Orion met Vex's eyes. "Despite everything, you've proven you can handle yourself in a fight."
Vex blinked. "Was that a compliment?"
"Don't get used to it."
"Too late. I'm framing that sentence. I'll hang it on my wall." But he was already standing, reaching for his sword. "We're in. Right, Denna?"
Denna hadn't spoken. She was staring at Nera with that sharp, observant gaze that saw too much.
"You're worried," she said to the pixie. "Not scared—worried. Like you know something you're not telling us."
Nera's wings fluttered. "I don't know anything. I just... feel something. Something wrong."
"Wrong how?"
"Like..." She struggled for words. "Like something woke up that should have stayed asleep. Something old."
A silence fell over the table. Denna's expression didn't change, but something in her eyes hardened.
"Then we'd better go wake it up properly," she said, and stood.
* * *
The beach outside the Saltmaw Caves was deserted.
Festival decorations had been strung between poles here, colorful banners meant to welcome visitors to the tidefall celebration. Now they hung limp in the still air, their cheerfulness grotesque against the wrongness that permeated the space.
"I see what they meant," Vex said quietly. "About being watched."
He was right. The cave entrance gaped before them, darker than it should have been, and from its depths came a sense of attention—something vast and patient, aware of their presence.
"No singing," Orion observed.
"Not yet," Nera said. "I think it knows we're here."
"It?"
"Whatever's in there." She had grown uncharacteristically serious, her usual cheer replaced by an ancient wariness that reminded Orion of how old she really was. "It's... big. I can feel it. Not physically big—big like a storm is big. Like the ocean is big."
"Can you tell what it is?"
"No. But it's not natural." She paused. "Or rather, it's very natural. Just not from here."
"That's cryptic," Denna said.
"I know. I'm sorry. I don't have better words for it."
Orion drew his new sword, the weight of it still unfamiliar but comforting. "Here's what we do. We go in slowly. We stay together. If anyone senses something dangerous, we call out immediately. No heroes, no splitting up, no stupid risks."
"Define stupid risks," Vex said.
"Anything you would normally do."
"That seems unfair."
"It's accurate."
"Also unfair."
"Vex," Denna said quietly. "Focus."
He straightened, the joking falling away. "Right. Focused. Let's go."
* * *
The caves were different than Orion remembered.
Not physically—the tunnels were the same, the same wet stone and barnacle-covered walls and smell of salt and decay. But something had changed in the atmosphere. The air felt heavier. Sounds echoed strangely, coming from directions they shouldn't.
And there was no sign of the crawlers. Not a single one.
"We killed hundreds of them," Orion murmured. "Their bodies were everywhere. Now there's nothing."
"Something cleaned up," Denna said.
"Or something ate them."
"That's a cheerful thought."
They pressed deeper, torchlight pushing back the darkness. The tunnels seemed longer than before, the distance between landmarks stretched somehow. Orion found himself losing track of time—had they been walking for minutes or hours?
"Stop," Nera said suddenly.
Everyone froze.
"What is it?" Orion whispered.
"Listen."
He listened. At first there was nothing—just the drip of water, the distant crash of waves, the sound of their own breathing.
And then he heard it.
Singing.
It came from everywhere and nowhere, a melody without words that seemed to bypass his ears and resonate directly in his bones. It was beautiful. It was terrible. It made him want to walk forward, to follow the sound into the darkness, to find whatever was making it and—
"Don't listen!" Nera's voice cut through the music like a blade. "Cover your ears! Don't listen!"
Orion clamped his hands over his ears, and the compulsion faded. Beside him, he saw Vex shaking his head like a dog throwing off water, and Denna gripping her staff with white knuckles.
"What the hell was that?" Vex demanded.
"Siren song," Nera said grimly. "Or something like it. Old magic. Very old." She had positioned herself in front of the group, tiny but defiant. "It's trying to draw us deeper."
"Why?"
"Because it's hungry."
The singing came again, stronger this time. Orion felt it pulling at him, whispering promises of rest and peace and the cool embrace of dark water.
"We need to leave," Denna said. Her voice was strained. "Whatever this is, it's beyond us. We need to get help."
"If we leave, it might follow," Nera said. "It's testing us. Seeing what we can resist."
"Then what do we do?"
Nera closed her eyes. When she opened them, there was something different in her gaze—something older, harder, more powerful than a pixie should possess.
"We make it understand," she said, "that we are not prey."
And she began to glow.
* * *
The light that surrounded Nera was not the small flash she'd used in previous fights. This was something else—a radiance that filled the tunnel, that pushed back the darkness, that made the stone itself seem to ring with power.
The singing stopped.
In the sudden silence, Orion could hear something else—a sound like massive movement, far below. Something shifting. Something retreating.
"What..." Vex was staring at Nera. "What are you?"
The light faded. Nera slumped, catching herself on Orion's collar. She looked exhausted—more exhausted than he'd ever seen her.
"Later," she mumbled. "Questions later. We need to leave now. While it's confused."
"Confused?" Denna's voice was sharp. "What did you do to it?"
"Showed it something it didn't expect." Nera's eyes were barely open. "Please. I can't... I need to rest. We need to go."
Orion scooped her into his palm—she was too weak to hold onto his shoulder—and turned toward the exit. "Move. Now."
They moved.
The journey out was faster than the journey in, though Orion couldn't say why. The tunnels seemed to shrink, the distances compress. Behind them, nothing followed—but he could feel the attention of something vast, watching them leave.
Letting them leave.
They emerged onto the beach as the sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of red and orange. The fresh air hit Orion like a physical blow, and he realized he'd been holding his breath.
"What was that?" Vex demanded. "Orion, what the hell was that? What's in those caves? And what did your wife just do?"
"I don't know," Orion said. It was true—at least partially. "But we're going to find out."
"She glowed. She glowed like a sun. Pixies don't do that."
"Vex." Denna put a hand on his arm. "Not now."
"But—"
"Not. Now." Her eyes met Orion's, and he saw understanding there—the understanding of someone who had decided not to ask questions she didn't want answered. "We need to report to the guild. Whatever's in those caves, it's beyond what four adventurers can handle."
"Agreed," Orion said.
"And after we report?" Vex asked.
Orion looked down at Nera, cradled in his hands, her breathing shallow but steady. She had pushed herself to protect them. Had revealed something she usually kept hidden.
"After we report," he said, "we figure out what woke up down there. And we figure out how to put it back to sleep."
Permanently.
* * *
In the depths beneath Coastal City, the ancient thing considered what it had learned.
The small one—the pixie—was far more than she appeared. The power she had displayed was old. Older than the city. Older than the human civilizations that had come before it.
The ancient thing recognized that power. It had encountered something similar, once, long ago—before its imprisonment, before the binding that had held it for centuries.
A fairy. Not just any fairy—a high one. Perhaps a queen.
Interesting indeed.
The barrier was weakening faster now, cracked by the death of the crawler queen and worn thin by the festival's energy above. Another day, perhaps two, and it would fail entirely.
When it did, the ancient thing would rise.
And when it rose, it would face this fairy queen—this hidden power walking among mortals.
It would devour her.
And with her power added to its own, nothing in this city—nothing in this world—would be able to stop it.
The ancient thing settled back to wait.
Soon.
Very soon.
— End of Chapter Eleven —