"Left!" I yell. "There's a vent!"

Sera looks. Nods. "Move!"

We run left. The necroscals are close now. I can hear the copper joints clicking. The green eyes glowing.

I reach the vent. Kick it. The metal breaks. I dive in.

The others follow. Garrick. The kid. Bukh. Corvin. Sera last.

She squeezes through just as a metal claw slams into the wall where her head was.

We're in a narrow tunnel. Dark. Hot. But safe.

I look at the vent behind us. At the darkness. At the green light fading.

"Too close," I mutter.

Bukh is on his knees. Panting. Looking at his empty hands.

"My flask," he groans. "I dropped my good flask."

"Better your flask than your head," Garrick says.

Sera leans against the wall. Breathing hard. Red eyes closed.

"Where does this go?" she asks.

I look ahead. At the dark tunnel. At the heat rising from below.

"Up," I say. "We've had enough of the deep."

"Finally," Bukh mutters. "Some fresh air. And maybe a new flask."

We move.