THE ENDLESS GREEN GROWTH OF the overgrown caverns is far behind them. The dungeon now is wet-slick and nigh-endless smooth black stone that hooves slide far too easily over. Smokejumper leads the way, cloven hooves a little more certain on the stone, and the three other coursers – Beetle, Henbane, and Halftruth – follow behind at a much slower pace.

    “Right here,” Smokejumper says, and Halftruth notes where they put their hooves.

    “Right here,” Halftruth repeats to Henbane behind her as she follows the same path.

    A third echo: “Right here.” Henbane to Beetle.

    Ahead, Smokejumper snorts a laugh, leonine tail twitching. The end of it tickles Halftruth’s nose, smelling faintly of smoke. It’s much better than the stagnant-water smell of the corridor they walk.

    The further they go, the darker it gets. Smokejumper, Henbane, and Beetle all carry bobbing lanternlight to guide the way. Halftruth, on the contrary, ducks her head to nose at the cold, flickering flame of her wisp, Aurae.

    She can still remember the first time she met the strange creature. Much younger, still not quite filled out into the width and height of her bones, and venturing out on her own for the first time in her life. She dared to only walk the paths of the first level, closest to the surface as it is, and even then, she walked the most well-known of them up until a split in the path grabbed her attention. There, at a curve in the dark, close-walled passage, glowed a faint blue light. Curious, Halftruth squeezed between the moss-covered stones towards it, and when she touched it with her nose, it flickered away, dancing just out of reach. She paused, knowing she should be cautious, shouldn’t go trotting eagerly after some mysterious light, but…

    Following it led her further and further into the dungeon, until moss covered not only the walls but the floors, too. Slick under hoof, she slowed, and the light slowed, too. Slowly, they progressed ever forward until finally, the passageway opened back up. Blinking, Halftruth took it in, and realized at once that –

    She had already been here.

    That rock, she passed not an hour ago. Those plants, over there, thick and tangled, had tricked her by looking just like another plant she was after.

    Huffing at the light, it merely danced around her head like an amused foal. She couldn’t shake it, after that. For years, she’s been accompanied by a mischievous (and helpful) blue-lit wisp.

    Now, the wisp flickers at her nose, flounces around her head, and settles just in between her long, perked ears.

    “There’s something up ahead,” Smokejumper calls back. Their voice echoes ahead of them, watery and resonant. A moment later, Halftruth hears their hooves start to slosh instead of click against stone.

    “What is it?” Beetle asks, from far in the back.

    “How about you be patient?” Henbane shoots back.

    “How about you move?” Beetle hisses. Halftruth hears a thump! and a squeal.

    Wheeling around, she fixes a glare on Henbane, who blinks innocently. “What?”

    “Enough,” Halftruth tells her. “Or I set Smoke on you both.”

    Henbane’s ears flatten. “No! No, I’ll be good.”

    “Apologize to Beetle,” Smokejumper calls from somewhere up ahead. “Listen to Halftruth.”

    “Sorry, Beetle,” Henbane mutters.

    Beetle snorts, pushing past her. “Whatever.”

    Sighing, Halftruth turns back around to investigate the new area. Before her, lit by the many flickering lights, are dozens of columns. Many of them are intact, stretching upwards into the darkness, but many more crumble in halves and pieces. Decorations are faint and lost to the smudging fingers of time, but she can make out the tell-tale shape of coursers carved onto the nearest one. Water covers the floor, still and murky.

    The further they walk into the cistern, the higher the filmy water gets. It laps at her hocks, and she sees Beetle lifting his knees extra high, expression disgruntled. Brimstone, Smokejumper’s wolf, paddles past Henbane, soaking wet and flat-eared. As Henbane and Halftruth watch, he clambers onto a fallen column and shakes his coat out.

    “Just a little longer,” Smokejumper tells him, amusement coloring their features. Brimstone whines. “We’ll start a fire after this for you, alright?”

    “What about for me?” Beetle whines. “I hate water.”

    Halftruth flicks an ear back. They’ve been filled with the noises of water sloshing, but she swears she can hear a dull roar underneath it. “Stop moving.”

    “What?” Henbane says, sloshing towards a column.

    Smokejumper arches their tail towards her. “Stop.”

    Henbane stops. The four coursers stand in silence, listening to the water settle. In the distance, something splashes, and the dull roar starts again, getting louder by the moment.

    “What is that?” Henbane says, voice pitching with alarm.

    Halftruth spins, and at once is confronted by a wave taller than her. It hits her full force, sending her sprawling into the disgusting water. Legs flailing, she picks her self back up, spitting water in between a dozen colorful curse words.

    “Are you okay?” Beetle asks, sloshing over to her.

    “I’m fine,” Halftruth wheezes. Something warm presses against her side, and she glances over to see Smokejumper leaning against her, gaze fiery.

    “I couldn’t see it at all,” Henbane says, joining the other three. “It was completely covered in water.”

    “Here it comes again!” Beetle cries.

    Halftruth follows his gaze to a wave of water coming towards them. It’s less a wave, she realizes, and more so water clinging to a shape underneath it that she can’t discern. “Dodge it!” she cries, and the four horses scatter.

    The water clips her hip as she leaps away, and distantly she hears Beetle cry out, sputtering. Whipping around, she watches the shape melt back into the cistern’s dank water. Beetle, struggling to his feet, hurries towards her.

    “Do we fight?” Henbane asks. From her packs, she draws her sword, it’s strange, wavy blade catching the lanternlight. Halftruth blinks at the lantern still glowing on her chest, and glances towards Beetle. His lantern is doused, dripping water. Frantic, she looks around until she catches a familiar blue light. Aurae hovers close to the ceiling, out of reach.

    “We need a plan,” Smokejumper says. Their voice takes on that flat, listen-to-me-or-else quality that makes even Halftruth stand up straight and fall in line. A little part of her, however, still glows with pride at her partner’s leadership skills. Beetle and Henbane fall silent, turning their attention to the roan heraldic.

    “I want one of you to distract it.”

    “Me,” Halftruth says immediately. Smokejumper flicks an ear towards her.

    “You’re our best fighter. No.”

    “I’m also almost as quick on my feet as you,” Halftruth points out. “I can distract it and get away.” Water still drips from her coat. She fidgets a little. “When I know it’s coming, anyway.”

    Smokejumper narrows their gaze at her. Halftruth lifts her chin and meets it head-on.

    “Fine,” Smokejumper huffs. “The rest of it will come from the side with our weapons drawn. Henbane, Beetle, you on the far side. I’ll be on this side.”

    Beetle and Henbane drift together and nod. “Got it.”

    Smokejumper flickers their gaze over them all once more, assessing each horse individually, and nods. In the distance, Halftruth can hear the dull roar start again.

    “Ready?” Smokejumper says, waiting for each horse to echo it back to them. Turning, they draw their long, wicked pitchfork and nod to Halftruth, concern flashing through their eyes before resolving to steely focus.

    One by one, each member of the party takes their place, and the roaring grows louder.