Three passages. No way to tell which one led out.
Byung stood at the junction and worked through it methodically, pulling every detail he had logged on the way in and running it against what was in front of him. The downward slope. The air current. The texture of the walls where the runes had been carved deepest. None of it matched. The tunnels had rearranged themselves with the kind of precision that ruled out coincidence and ruled out his memory being wrong. He knew what he had seen coming in. This was not it.
Behind him, the sisters were doing their own audit. He could hear it in the way they moved — boots scuffing the floor as they checked each passage, the low sounds of Thulga working through her options out loud before cutting herself off. Kraghul hung across Mazga's shoulders, unconscious, his breathing shallow but present.
"There's no way out," Roktha said. Not a question.
Byung didn't answer.
