Jason didn't stop running.
His lungs burned. His legs ached. The borrowed boots pinched his toes with every stride, but he didn't slow down. Behind him, he could hear Mae's hooves clicking against the stone, Ylva's claws scraping, Thalion's ragged breathing.
They had escaped the cavern of eggs. The sealed tunnel was behind them.
But they were lost now.
Thalion had blown a hole in the wall—Jason had screamed at him to do it, and the elf had obeyed without hesitation. But in the chaos, in the panic, Thalion had missed the original tunnel by a few centimeters. The blast had opened a completely different path, one that veered sharply to the left, away from the way they had come.
And they kept running. Running. Running.
"Where are we going?" Mae gasped.
"I don't know!" Jason admitted. "Anywhere but there!"
Ylva's ears swiveled forward, then back. Her nose twitched.
"Stop," she said.
Jason kept running.
"Jason, stop!"
