Yellow-flowered vines had sprung up to hug the tunnel's red-earth walls since Ishmael had first ventured down through it. He glanced over to Dirge, laden down with neatly-wrapped courser bones to return to their families on the surface, was also unnerved and saw him sniff at the first of the large vines reaching out across the floor. Dirge's hound was too distracted to be of any use, busy snapping at the imps who had evidently found the tunnel a fruitful place to ambush coursers with their in...

One cavern full of lava and ancient, unfathomable machinery had begun to blur into the next until Ishmael caught sight of a familiar chestnut tobiano coat at the end of the narrow corridor he was trudging through.    "Dirge!" He neighed, breaking into a canter.    Dirge's head jerked up but instead of the happy ears and friendly greeting Ishmael had expected, the bone-collector reared.    "Don't - !"    A stone that was not a stone clicked under Ishmael's h...

Ishmael hadn't realised how bad he had gotten until he stumbled upon the crack in the earth behind his tired little shelter. He had eased down onto his white belly, like he taught his students to calm them whenever a tremble ran under their feet, but instead of shuffling back to safety, he'd leaned forward.    A tric...

“What is it thou craves?” “Sustenance!” Dirge snorted and shook his head in annoyance. The pots had no eyes yet he could feel their gaze, the gentle sound of dry clay rotating on the dungeon’s brick flooring echoing off the walls. They had been amicable enough, if a bit loud and unknowable in their desires as enchanted objects. ...