Rhael did not lead Aarinen deeper at once.
He made him sit.
Not gently.
Not ceremonially.
They reached a wider chamber where the cave ceiling rose high enough to swallow the lantern's light. Rhael pointed to a slab of stone near a low fire pit and waited until Aarinen lowered himself onto it with a hiss of pain.
"Sit," Rhael repeated, as if Aarinen might forget.
The old man crouched and began working without asking permission. He added dried moss to the fire pit, coaxed a low flame, then set a kettle above it. The movements were practiced, efficient, stripped of drama.
Aarinen watched him closely.
"You're not afraid," Aarinen said.
Rhael snorted.
"Of men with orders?" he said. "No."
"Of me?"
Rhael looked up then, eyes sharp.
"You're injured," he said. "And unbalanced. That makes you dangerous."
He returned to the kettle.
"But danger isn't fear," he continued. "It's information."
Aarinen exhaled slowly.
The warmth from the fire began to reach his legs, easing the shaking. Pain remained, but it softened enough for his thoughts to move again.
"How long have you lived here?" Aarinen asked.
Rhael shrugged.
"Long enough to know when the cave wants someone gone," he said. "And long enough to know when it doesn't."
Aarinen frowned.
"And what does it want from me?"
Rhael did not answer immediately. He poured a bitter-smelling liquid into a chipped cup and handed it over.
"Drink," he said. "Slowly."
Aarinen drank. The taste was foul, but warmth spread through his chest, easing the tightness there.
"The cave doesn't want," Rhael said finally. "It tolerates. For now."
That was not reassuring.
They rested for perhaps an hour. Aarinen dozed despite himself, head falling forward, muscles finally surrendering. When he woke, the fire was lower, but the air felt heavier.
Something had changed.
Rhael was standing now, lantern raised, listening.
"What?" Aarinen asked.
Rhael did not answer.
Then Aarinen heard it too.
Footsteps.
Not above.
Inside.
Rhael cursed softly.
"They followed the blood," he said. "Smarter than I hoped."
"How many?" Aarinen asked, already trying to stand.
Rhael placed a firm hand on his chest.
"You don't fight," he said. "You move."
He gestured toward a narrow passage behind the fire pit, barely visible unless one knew to look.
"Crawl," Rhael said. "And don't stop."
"What about you?" Aarinen asked.
Rhael smiled thinly.
"I've been uninteresting longer than you've been alive," he said.
A shout echoed from deeper in the cave.
"Lantern!" a voice called. "Fresh light!"
Aarinen hesitated only a second longer before dropping to his hands and knees and crawling into the passage. The stone scraped his back, his shoulder screamed as he dragged it forward, but he moved anyway.
Behind him, Rhael stepped into the open chamber.
"Lost?" Rhael called out mildly.
Boots entered the chamber. Light flared brighter.
"There's an old man," a voice said. "And signs of passage."
"Where is he?" the leader demanded.
Rhael shrugged.
"People pass through," he said. "Most don't stay."
The leader stepped closer.
"You live here," he said. "You know the tunnels."
"I know which ones collapse," Rhael replied.
Steel rang as a blade was drawn.
Aarinen crawled faster.
The passage opened suddenly into a sloping tunnel that descended sharply. He slid more than crawled, losing control, tumbling until he slammed into a wall at the bottom.
He gasped, pain exploding again.
Light appeared above.
They had followed.
A figure slid down after him, landing hard but upright, crossbow already raised.
Aarinen reacted without thought.
He grabbed a loose stone and hurled it—not at the hunter, but at the lantern mounted on the tunnel wall.
Glass shattered.
Darkness swallowed everything.
A bolt fired blindly, whistling past Aarinen's head.
He lunged forward, colliding with the hunter. They went down together, bodies slamming into stone. Aarinen's injured shoulder screamed, but he wrapped his good arm around the hunter's neck and squeezed with everything he had left.
The hunter struggled, boots kicking, breath rasping. Aarinen felt strength draining fast—his own and the other man's.
Pain threatened to overwhelm him.
He did not laugh.
He endured.
The hunter went limp.
Aarinen rolled away, gasping, limbs shaking violently.
More voices echoed above.
Too many.
He staggered to his feet and ran down the tunnel, guided only by the faint flow of air and instinct. The cave twisted, narrowed, widened again. He slipped, fell, rose again, blood marking his path.
The tunnel ended abruptly in a vertical drop.
A shaft.
Below—darkness and the distant sound of water.
Above—pursuit.
Aarinen did not hesitate.
He jumped.
The fall knocked the breath from him completely. He hit water hard, sinking deep before instinct forced him upward. He surfaced choking, flailing, then found purchase on slick rock at the edge of an underground river.
He dragged himself out and lay there, chest heaving.
The river moved fast, cold and loud, swallowing sound.
Above, lantern light flickered at the edge of the shaft.
They would not follow easily.
Good.
Aarinen crawled away along the riverbank until exhaustion claimed him completely. He collapsed, unable to move, barely able to think.
Minutes passed.
Then a familiar lantern glow appeared beside him.
Rhael.
Alive.
Aarinen laughed weakly—then stopped, startled by the sound's emptiness.
Rhael raised an eyebrow.
"Careful," he said. "You'll miss it."
Aarinen closed his eyes.
"They're persistent," he said.
Rhael nodded.
"They're learning," he said. "So are you."
He crouched beside Aarinen.
"The cave won't hold them forever," Rhael said. "Nor should it."
Aarinen looked at him.
"Why help me?" he asked.
Rhael met his gaze steadily.
"Because you're being hunted by systems that believe order is worth more than people," he said. "And because you're still choosing."
"Choosing what?"
Rhael gestured at Aarinen's battered body.
"To keep moving," he said. "Even when it hurts honestly."
Rhael stood.
"You rest," he said. "Then we leave."
"Where?" Aarinen asked.
Rhael smiled faintly.
"Somewhere the hounds don't expect prey to walk willingly," he said.
The river rushed past them, relentless and loud.
Above, the hunters regrouped, frustrated but patient.
The cave did not hide Aarinen.
It merely delayed the inevitable.
And for the first time, that felt like enough.