Tessa lowered her voice so Anton could hear her over the scraping creature.
“We’re moving you behind the bend. Vera and Eli will carry you. Jory, stay beside me.”
Jory’s breathing had improved, but his steps remained unsteady. He held one hand against the wall as he stood. Cole retreated toward them, guarding his injured arm. Corvin stayed closest to the breach, blade raised.
“You don’t know what bringing that beam down will do,” Corvin said.
“No,” Eli said. “I know it’s already failing.”
“And if it blocks the passage, we lose the reading.”
“Yes.”
The answer seemed to anger Corvin more than a denial would have. He looked past the creature toward the pale light at the far end of the corridor. The energy detector still hummed from his pocket. Every person in the expedition had heard it grow louder as they approached; now its steady note sounded almost absurd beneath the grinding of stone.
“We can pull back and wait,” Corvin said. “It may go back through the wall.”
The creature struck the floor with one jointed limb. A fracture split across the support, and a fresh shower of dust fell. Corvin jumped away from it.
Tessa pointed to Anton’s leg. “We cannot wait here. He needs treatment outside the gate.”
“We can go around it.”
“Show me the route.”
Corvin looked toward the bend behind them, then back at the damaged wall. There was no second opening visible from where they stood.
Eli saw the calculation on his face. If they retreated now, he might still bring a team back once the injured were safe. If Eli dropped the beam, the shortest route would be buried. Whether another way existed was unknown.
“Get them out of the impact zone,” Eli said. “Then check for anyone on the other side.”
Tessa nodded. “Vera, take the front of the sheet. I’ll take the back.”
“I can carry,” Eli said.
“I need you watching the beam. Tell us if it changes.”
Vera took the front handles Eli had set down, and Tessa lifted the rear handles. They moved slowly through the bend, counting their steps aloud. Jory followed with one hand on the wall. The bandage on Cole’s arm had begun to darken, but he stayed near Corvin, weapon ready.
Eli watched the beam. The bright lines in his sight crossed near a notch above the creature. If he struck the notch from below and toward the wall, he might force the beam to break on the side already weakened. He had no experience doing this deliberately. The wall at the clinic had fallen after he warned people away; he had not caused it to fall.
He took a short steel hammer from the accessible equipment pack. It was heavier than he expected. He tested the grip, then set his feet where he would have a path back around the bend.
The creature scraped forward. Its blunt head turned toward the movement of the rescue sheet. Cole struck the floor again to draw its attention. The creature swung one limb at him; he stepped back, but the tip caught his coat and tore the fabric.
“Come back,” Tessa called.
“Someone has to keep it here.”
“Come back now.”
Cole obeyed. He passed Eli with a tight nod. Tessa checked the corridor behind him, then looked toward Corvin.
“Are you clear?” she asked.
Corvin hesitated. “If we lose this, none of us gets the recovery share.”
Eli thought of the smaller supply order the clinic might be able to buy tomorrow. It would not cover everything Tessa needed. He had entered the gate hoping for a sum large enough to change that. If he dropped the beam, he could not promise her another crystal, another buyer, or even a portion of today’s expected pay.
“I know,” he said.
“Then give me one minute.”
“You may not have it.”
Corvin took a step toward the creature. It shifted its weight, and the beam groaned. He stopped.
Behind Eli, Tessa called, “Anton, Jory, Vera, Cole, me, Eli. Corvin, you’re the last one. Move.”
Corvin backed away, his blade still pointed forward. He passed Eli and turned the bend. Tessa counted again, touching each person’s shoulder as she named them. Everyone was on the near side.
“Clear,” she said.
Eli raised the hammer. The creature’s feelers moved toward him. He waited until it shifted beneath the damaged section, then struck.
The hammer hit stone with a jolt that ran through his wrists. A chip broke away. The beam held.
The creature lunged.
Eli stepped back, swung again, and caught the notch at an angle. The fracture spread across the underside of the beam. For an instant the stone seemed to hang without moving. Then the joint gave.
“Eli!” Tessa shouted.
He dropped the hammer and ran for the bend. A weight struck the floor behind him. The impact pushed air through the corridor, driving dust against his back. He stumbled into the wall, caught himself, and kept moving until Vera grabbed his sleeve and pulled him behind the corner.
Stone crashed again. Something scraped on the far side of the fall, followed by a sharp, chittering sound.
Eli covered his mouth with his sleeve. Dust filled the passage, turning the lamps into dull circles. He could hear coughing, Tessa giving directions, and Anton asking whether everyone was alive.
“Answer when I say your name,” Tessa called. “Anton.”
“Here.”
“Jory.”
“Here.”
“Vera.”
“Here.”
“Cole.”
A cough. “Here.”
“Corvin.”
“Here.”
“Eli.”
“Here.”
She repeated the count, slower this time, checking that nobody had answered for someone else. Then she knelt beside Anton and examined his dressing. Eli held a lamp low while she worked. His hands trembled so badly that the light shook; he braced his wrist against his knee.
“The bandage’s still in place,” Tessa said. “Are you dizzy?”
“A little.”
“Tell me if it gets worse.” She checked his pulse and asked Vera to keep him warm. Vera took a folded jacket from her pack and laid it over his chest.
Jory had developed a scrape across his forehead, shallow but bleeding. Tessa cleaned it quickly. He kept looking toward the dust.
“Is it dead?” he asked.
“We don’t know,” Eli said.
As if in answer, something struck the fallen stone. The sound came through the barrier as a muffled thud. Dust shook loose from the ceiling above them.
Corvin pushed past Eli and approached the bend. “Let me see.”
“Don’t go under anything loose,” Vera said.
He held his lamp around the corner. A pile of broken beam and wall filled the corridor from floor to almost shoulder height. Beyond it, one lamp still burned, its light visible through a gap between two stones. The creature moved behind the barrier. A dark limb probed the gap, withdrew, and struck again.
Corvin lowered his blade. “It isn’t getting through that quickly.”
“We don’t know how quickly,” Vera said.
He ignored her and studied the stone to either side. “The crack it came through could connect to another chamber. The branch at the junction might lead around.”
Eli remembered the cool air and fresh scratches. The branch could be a route to the crystal chamber. It could also be the route the creature had used to reach the wall, or the home of more creatures. Nothing in his old map could answer that.
“Anton needs to leave,” Tessa said.
“Vera and Eli can take him. The rest of us search the branch.”
“Jory needs assessment outside too.”
“I’m all right,” Jory said. He tried to take a step without the wall and had to steady himself against Cole.
Tessa looked at him. “You had trouble breathing and you were struck by falling stone. I want you checked.”
Corvin rubbed dust from his face. “If four people leave, there aren’t enough of us to search.”
“Then the expedition leaves,” Tessa said. “We agreed on that when you signed.”
“I agreed you could order evacuation for a patient. I didn’t agree to cancel the expedition.”
“You agreed enough able people would accompany the patient to move him safely. We have two patients, one of whom cannot walk.”
Corvin opened his mouth, then closed it. The argument was not really about what the page said. It was about the money at the end of the passage and the fear of returning without it.
Cole adjusted the dressing on his arm. “I’m going out.”
Corvin stared at him. “You’re the strongest fighter here.”
“With one arm. If you need me to carry Anton, I’ll carry him. I won’t search another tunnel while he bleeds.”
Jory looked between them. “I want to go too.”
Vera placed her stick across her knees. “I won’t leave the patients.”
Anton said nothing. He was watching the bandage on his leg, his jaw clenched.
Corvin’s shoulders fell a fraction. “Fine. We go out together.”
The decision did not end the work. Tessa checked Cole’s arm and tightened his dressing. He could use the hand, though gripping his weapon made him wince. She told him to report numbness or increased bleeding. He nodded, looking at the floor rather than at her.
Eli returned to the bend and examined the packs. The beam had fallen beyond them; the recessed supplies remained on their side of the barrier. One water container had split, leaving a dark patch on the stone. The others were intact. The metal pack had taken several impacts but could still be lifted.
Corvin joined him. “We bring the equipment.”
“We bring what doesn’t slow the patients.”
“I paid for it.”
“And you can come back for it if the gate remains open.”
Corvin crouched and opened the metal pack. He removed the detector’s spare battery and a small case of tools, placing them in his own bag. He looked at the remaining equipment, then at Anton’s sheet.
“Water, lamps, rope,” he said. “Leave the rest.”
It was a compromise Eli could live with. He separated the supplies while Vera prepared the carrying shifts. Cole would take the front of the rescue sheet with Eli at the rear; after the bend they would change positions with Vera and Corvin. Tessa would walk beside Anton and watch his breathing. Jory would carry a lamp and stay within reach of the wall.
Anton looked at the sheet’s handles. “I can make myself lighter.”
Vera knelt beside him. “Where does the weight go?”
“Into the ground. Some of it.”
“Can you keep it there while we move?”
“I think so.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
Tessa checked his face. “You’re already dizzy. If using it makes you feel worse, you stop and tell us immediately.”
Anton closed his eyes. A faint shimmer passed over his hands and into the handles. When Eli lifted his end, the sheet rose more easily. Anton’s expression tightened.
“That’s enough,” Vera said. “Don’t take more than you can hold.”
They began moving. The first stretch was wider than the bend, but loose stones forced them to keep the sheet low. Eli watched his footing and matched Cole’s pace. Tessa walked at Anton’s side, one hand near the dressing without touching it.
At the chamber with the rubble mound, they stopped to change carriers. Anton released his ability. The sheet’s weight returned gradually, settling into Eli’s arms. Corvin and Vera took the handles before he lowered it fully.
“How do you feel?” Tessa asked Anton.
“Tired.”
“More dizzy?”
“About the same.”
She checked him again and allowed a short drink of water. Eli gathered the lamps and rope. They did not have enough free hands for every piece of equipment. He left the unopened spare climbing hardware against the wall, marking its location with a strip of cloth in case anyone returned.
Corvin watched him tie the cloth. “You think I’m coming back for it?”
“I don’t know. You might want the option.”
Corvin did not answer.
They reached the descending corridor without another attack. The absence of sound made Eli more nervous than the impacts had. He kept listening for movement through the walls, unable to tell whether the creature was finding a way around the fallen beam. The pale mineral seam caught their lamps as they passed. He had expected it to guide him toward a reward; now it guided them back toward the junction and the unknown branch.
Tessa checked the whistle at her collar. “If we get separated, the meeting point is the entrance chamber if safe. Otherwise, outside at the left barrier.”
Jory repeated the directions. Cole did too. Corvin gave an impatient nod, but he did not contradict her.
At the edge of the junction, Vera stopped. The bright cord she had tied still hung above the intersection, pointing toward the entrance. Below it, the stone support stood where Eli had seen the crack. His sight traced the damaged seam, still faintly bright. He kept the group away from it.
The new tunnel yawned to their right. Cool air moved out of it, carrying the smell of soil. No lamp illuminated its bend.
“We’ll have to pass the opening one at a time,” Vera said. “Carriers first, then the others. Don’t leave a gap we can’t close.”
Corvin took the front of the sheet. Eli moved behind him with the lamp, scanning the tunnel mouth. Cole stood at the rear with his weapon in his good hand. Tessa stayed beside Anton, and Jory followed with the remaining rope.
They had taken only a few steps into the narrow intersection when a scrape sounded behind them. It might have come from the fallen beam, transmitted through the walls. It might have come from the branch beside them.
Cole turned sharply. “How far is the entrance?”
“Not far,” Eli said.
“That isn’t an answer.”
“Through this junction, then the corridor and the chamber.”
Cole looked at Anton, at the sheet, and at the narrow route ahead. “We’re too slow.”
“We’re moving,” Vera said.
“If that thing gets around the barrier, we won’t make it.” He tightened his grip on the bar. “We should leave the heavy equipment and send someone ahead for help.”
“The equipment is mostly gone,” Eli said. “And the responders outside can’t cross without a permit.”
“Then we need to move faster.”
Corvin tried to lift his end of the sheet higher. Anton cried out, and Tessa immediately told him to lower it. The motion had pulled on the injured leg.
“We move at the speed the patient can tolerate,” she said.
Cole stared into the branch. His breathing grew louder. “My family is outside. I told them I’d be back before noon.”
“We’ll get you back,” Vera said.
“You can’t promise that.”
“No.” She looked at the dark opening. “But leaving him here doesn’t promise it either.”
Vera lowered the rear handle enough for Cole to take it with his good hand. He lifted, and she released her grip after checking that he had the weight. Then another scrape came from somewhere in the stone, and he let the handle fall.