The "spirit test" turned out to be a week in the mountain's "Gut"—a series of damp, pitch-black tunnels. Kaelen and Lyra were thrown in with nothing but the clothes on their backs.
"We have to find the exit before the others," Lyra said, her voice small in the darkness. "Vane said there's only enough food at the end for the first pair."
Kaelen felt the walls. They were slimy with moss. He remembered his old life, watching survival documentaries on a flat-screen TV. He knew that moss usually grew on the side with more moisture, and air currents meant an opening.
"Follow the wind," Kaelen said, grabbing Lyra's cold hand.
As they crawled through the narrow gaps, they heard screams behind them. Something was in the tunnels with them. Not a human. Something that skittered on too many legs.
"Kaelen, I'm scared," Lyra whispered.
Kaelen stopped. He pulled her close. "Listen to me. Fear is just a chemical. It's your body telling you you're alive. Use it. Let it make your heart beat faster, let it make you move quicker. Don't let it freeze you."
It was the kind of advice an uncle would give, but in this dark hell, it was a lifeline. Lyra nodded, her grip on his hand tightening. They weren't just partners; they were becoming each other's world.