The first pale light of dawn crept over the jagged ridges of the valley, spilling into narrow canyons below. Long shadows stretched across twisted rock and thorned undergrowth, clinging to the ground as if reluctant to let go of the night.
Lyra guided her horse forward at a careful pace. Her armor was scratched and dulled from their flight, leather straps darkened with sweat and grime. Though her sword remained sheathed, her fingers brushed the hilt with every step—habit, instinct, readiness. The air felt heavy, pressed down by an unnatural stillness. Even the wind seemed to hesitate before threading through the stone corridors.
Selene sat in front of her, riding double. Her hands gripped the reins too tightly, pale knuckles stark against the leather. Pale green eyes scanned every shadow, every movement in the mist-choked undergrowth. Elise's stories from the night before—poisonous creatures, venomous insects—refused to leave her mind.
She had dreamed.
A beast with too many eyes.
Watching. Waiting.
Her fingers drifted to the small charms at her chest, lingering on the star-shaped one. Lyra noticed at once.
She shifted closer, one arm settling securely around Selene's waist, steady and warm. "You're shivering," she murmured near Selene's ear, voice low enough that only Selene could hear.
Selene startled, then relaxed instinctively against her. "I didn't mean to," she admitted. "It's just… last night."
Lyra felt the slight tremor beneath her hand. "A dream?"
Selene nodded. "I dreamed of a beast. Huge. It had… several eyes."
Lyra tightened her hold—not possessive, but grounding. "Did it hurt you?"
"No," Selene shook her head. "It just watched me. I couldn't see its body clearly. Only the eyes."
"The twelve-eyed spider," Elise said suddenly from a few paces ahead.
Everyone froze.
She glanced back, expression grim, tone edged with weary familiarity. "Larger than a man. Faster than it looks. Venom strong enough to stop a knight's heart in moments. We don't want to see it.Romur has it that some of the people who manage to get out of this valley did say they've seen a creature like that"
Rory swallowed audibly. "That… that was not comforting."
Selene closed her eyes—and for a heartbeat, she saw them.
Twelve eyes. Unblinking. Too close.
She gasped and opened her eyes quickly. "I think," she whispered, "it had twelve eyes."
Rory blinked at her. "Wow," he said, half-awed. "Is that a new power, Selene?"
Selene flushed. "It was just a dream."
Shawn snorted from the front. "If you start predicting giant murder-spiders, I'm retiring."
Lyra huffed softly, the sound vibrating against Selene's back. "Focus," she said calmly. "All of you."
She raised her voice slightly. "Keep your wits about you. Step carefully. And don't touch anything that moves unless it's on our side."
"Bold of you to assume anything here has a side," Shawn muttered, lifting his shield.
He rode point, eyes flicking between the narrow path and the warped foliage creeping down the slopes. "Even the smallest creatures here can kill in minutes."
Elise followed closely, holding Rory's hand despite his insistence on scouting. The boy's red hair caught the sunlight as he scanned the shadows. "What's the spider's name again?" he asked quietly.
"Elise," Shawn warned. "Don't answer that."
The path twisted through dense undergrowth and slick stone. A fallen tree blocked part of the trail, its bark gouged with deep scratches—too deliberate to be weather. Rory flinched at the rustle of unseen animals.
Selene's grip tightened on the reins.
Lyra felt it immediately. She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin near Selene's shoulder. "Breathe with me," she murmured. "In. Out. I've got you."
Selene obeyed, matching Lyra's steady rhythm. Her shoulders eased—not fearless, but calmer.
Hours passed like that. Careful steps. Silent signals. Listening more than speaking.
Lyra spotted it first—a web stretched between two boulders, nearly invisible, glimmering with dew.
Twelve eyes. Waiting.
She halted the horse instantly and raised a hand. Shawn froze. Without a word, they guided the group around it, boots silent against stone and soil. No one spoke until it vanished behind them.
By midday, the valley felt endless. Each turn revealed more jagged cliffs, hidden pools reflecting nothing, roots like grasping fingers. Sweat and tension clung to them heavier than their packs.
Selene reached back, brushing Rory's arm gently as he passed. "We'll make it," she whispered.
Lyra glanced down at her, voice low. "You're doing well," she said. "Braver than you think."
Selene smiled faintly, leaning back into her. "That's because I have you."
The words stayed with Lyra longer than they should have.
As evening crept in, a narrow ridge opened onto a small plateau. Exhausted, they paused. Rory collapsed against Elise with a dramatic groan.
"I vote," he said, "that the Valley apologizes to us personally."
Shawn scoffed. "If it starts talking, I'm leaving."
Elise smirked. "You said that yesterday."
Even Lyra let out a quiet huff of amusement.
She scanned the horizon, blue-black shadows deepening in the folds of the valley. The danger was far from over.
But for now, they had survived.
Another day in the maze.
Another passage through the land where even the air felt alive.
Selene leaned back slightly, trusting Lyra's hold without question. Lyra adjusted her grip automatically, protective, certain.
The true peril still waited deeper within.
And the Valley, ancient and patient, watched them ride on.