There was no more time to think.
Rianor snatched a blank piece of paper from the stone table, dipping his quill into a small ink bottle. His handwriting was rushed, nearly illegible, but the message was clear. The obsidian walls around him still pulsed faintly with deep purple runes, seemingly indifferent to the chaos unfolding in the surrounding tunnels.
"Borch and Thorne," he ordered, shoving the first note at a young courier who had just burst in, his breathing heavy, his face smeared with volcanic ash. "The side tunnel, third junction, the narrow path behind the mossy stone pillar. It's a shortcut to the throne room. They have to get there before the black-ops unit."
The courier snatched the paper, gave a stiff nod, and sprinted out without looking back.
Rianor scribbled the second note. "To the throne room. Warn the King. Hide, lock the doors, and hold out until reinforcements arrive."
