Feral Prophets

At first light

“Down here—fresh tracks,” Lucius said, his voice low and steady as he held the lantern high. The flame flickered against the damp stone walls of the condemned shaft, casting long shadows that danced like specters.

The air was thick with coal dust and the faint, metallic tang of fear. “They dragged someone this way not long ago. Look at the scuff marks. Smaller feet. Could be the gir