The handprints on the walls were giving off warmth.
Nate felt like he was being watched.
He knew that that was a silly thing to feel. The serpent had been the boss mob. Surely, there was nothing left now.
Pala had the core in a container, from which it wasn't going to be able to run away.
And…
Nate heard a pebble roll at the end of the hall. He pressed himself in a nook in the walls.
Waiting.
The steps were soft. Nate counted them.
One, two, three… tap, tap, tap.
Whoever was coming his way either had a walking stick or a staff. For once, Nate berated himself for never learning how to read mana.
He gripped his dagger. The hilt digging into his flesh. His hands were slippery.
A beat of sweat ran down his chin and dropped to the ground.
The steps stopped.
Nate cursed under his breath. It was going to be a fight. He didn't know whether he could survive it or not, but he was sure that whoever was here with him was not going to get to Pala!
