Pereneth's group vanished down the left corridor, boots fading into the labyrinth's acoustic maze. Amron led his five down the right path. The walls rose high on both sides, smooth stone that offered no handholds. No shortcuts. Just the paths the prince's power had created.
They reached a junction. Four corridors this time, branching like roots.
"Split again," Amron ordered. "Pairs. First to find a marker, signal."
In a maze with no vantage points, dividing in pairs was the safest balance between coverage and survivability. Too many together slowed them. Too few invited ambush.
Two attackers peeled off down the leftmost path. Two more took the right. Amron and his remaining partner chose the center corridor. The passage narrowed slightly, forcing them into single file. Amron went first, blade ready.
A sound reached him. Distant, rhythmic. Metal on stone.
Tap. Tap-tap. Tap.
He froze. The pattern repeated, echoing from somewhere ahead. Not random. Deliberate.
