The chamber opened wide.
Stone arches stacked atop one another, rising in tiers like the ribs of a buried cathedral. Thick pillars supported vaulted ceilings, their surfaces slick with frost and age. At the center of the room sat a low stone platform, half-buried in ice and wax-dripped candles long since extinguished.
Jay lifted the lantern, light washing across the lower level.
Empty.
Ryn's gaze slid upward.
The lantern light didn't reach the upper arches.
But his eyes did.
Dark shapes crouched along the ledges above, nestled between the stone pillars and dark alcoves.
"Jay," Ryn said quietly. "Kill the light."
Jay stiffened. "What?"
"Now."
Jay shuttered the lantern just as a low sound rippled through the chamber.
A rumble.
The shadows moved.
Pale eyes ignited across the upper tiers—one pair, then another, then dozens.
Frost hounds.
Their bodies were lean and corded, fur crusted with ice, claws dug deep into the stone, leaving imprints each step they took.
