CHAPTER 74: THE STALKER IN THE STALKS (2)

The knowledge settled over the group like a physical weight. They continued forward because stopping seemed equally dangerous, but their movements had taken on a new tension, the brittle awareness of being hunted by something that knew these mushroom passages far better than they did.

More signs appeared as they pressed on: a patch of spores disturbed by something large passing through, stalks bent aside to create a passage for a body much larger than their own, and always more claw marks, fresher and deeper with each new discovery.

The path suddenly widened, opening into a roughly circular clearing ringed by the tallest mushrooms they’d yet encountered. Their massive caps formed a cathedral ceiling overhead, filtering the fading daylight into muted patterns that dappled the golden-spore-covered ground.

"I don’t like this," Thorin muttered, his axe raised defensively as they moved into the exposed space. "Too open. Nowhere to—"

A heavy footfall sounded from the passage they’d just left, the impact sending a tremor through the spongy ground beneath their feet. Another followed from a different direction, then another. The sound of breathing returned, louder now, coming from multiple points around the clearing’s perimeter.

Apollo felt the gold in his veins surge in response to imminent danger, warming his chilled skin from within. The mushroom stalks surrounding the clearing began to tremble, bending outward as something massive pressed against them from the other side.

Spores shaken loose from the movement rained down like golden snow, obscuring visibility even as they highlighted the disturbance in glittering relief.

Everyone drew weapons in the same instant, Lyra’s knife flashing in the dim light, Thorin’s axe glowing with intensified blue radiance, Renna’s belt knife held in a reverse grip, even Nik producing a small dagger from somewhere in his clothing.

Apollo’s hand closed around the hilt of his sword, though the weight of it felt inadequate against whatever approached.

The clearing fell silent for one breathless moment, as if the entire forest were holding itself in anticipation. Then, with a sound like wet cloth tearing, a massive clawed hand curled around one of the mushroom stalks at the clearing’s edge.

Each finger ended in a talon longer than Apollo’s forearm, the flesh beneath a mottled gray-green that seemed to absorb rather than reflect the ambient light.

The stalk bent under the creature’s grip, pulled aside with casual strength that spoke of muscles capable of rendering any of them to bloody rags with a single swipe. As the barrier parted, Apollo caught his first clear glimpse of what had been hunting them through the mushroom maze, and the gold in his veins flared in recognition of something ancient and terribly, impossibly familiar.

The creature’s massive form began to emerge from the shadows, each movement deliberate and predatory. Apollo’s exhausted mind struggled to process what he was seeing as the gold in his veins surged with warning.

"We end this now," Thorin growled, his knuckles white around the handle of his glowing axe. "Whatever this beast is, I’ll not be hunted like a rabbit." He stepped forward, stance widening as he prepared to charge.

Renna grabbed his shoulder, yanking him back with surprising strength. "Are you mad? Look at the size of those claws! One swipe and you’re in pieces." Her voice remained low but intense. "We don’t know what this thing is, how it hunts, or what weakens it. Rushing in is suicide."

"So is standing here waiting for it to decide which of us to eat first," Thorin shot back, though he didn’t shake off her restraining hand.

Nik had backed up until he was pressed against a mushroom stalk, his face ashen beneath the golden spores. "We need to run," he whispered urgently. "Right now. Split up if we have to. It can’t catch all of us."

"Split up?" Renna hissed. "That’s how predators pick off the weak. We’d be doing its work for it."

Apollo swayed slightly as the whispers returned, a disorienting chorus at the edges of his consciousness. The words remained unintelligible, but their urgent tone pressed against his mind like fingers seeking entrance. The sleepless night combined with the aether-saturated air made focusing nearly impossible.

Lyra’s steady voice cut through the debate. "Forward movement. Slow, controlled, and silent." Her knife glinted in the dim light as she gestured toward a narrow passage on the far side of the clearing. "That leads upward. If we can reach higher ground, we might find an advantage."

"Or trap ourselves," Thorin muttered, but his objection lacked conviction.

"We move together," Lyra insisted, her green eyes sweeping over the group. "Watch each other’s backs. No heroics, no panic." Her gaze lingered on Apollo, a brief flicker of concern crossing her face before her expression hardened again. "Ready?"

Apollo nodded mechanically, though the whispers made it difficult to focus on her words. He should tell them what he was hearing, warn them somehow, but exhaustion had stolen his ability to translate thought into speech. The gold in his veins felt sluggish, as if the metal itself were fatigued.

They moved in tense single file across the clearing, Lyra leading with her knife held low and ready. Thorin followed, his glowing axe providing unwanted illumination that cast their shadows in stark relief against the mushroom trunks. Nik came next, then Renna, with Apollo bringing up the rear, his hand resting on his sword hilt.

The air thickened as the creature’s massive form began to emerge from the shadows. Apollo’s gold-threaded veins hummed with recognition, but his exhausted mind couldn’t place why this monster felt so terribly familiar.

"It’s cornered us," Renna whispered, her voice barely audible over the creature’s heavy breathing. "We need a strategy."

Thorin hefted his axe, the blue glow intensifying as if responding to his rising anger. "The strategy is simple. We kill it before it kills us." He rolled his shoulders, muscles bunching beneath his leather jerkin. "I’ll take it head-on while you flank it."

"That’s not a strategy, that’s suicide," Renna hissed. "Look at those claw marks again. Whatever this thing is, it’s powerful enough to tear through these stalks like they’re parchment."