Arin knew this was not a game, no matter how much the three of them wanted to treat it like a simple puzzle. Whatever the world, demons are masters of trickery and never to be trusted, that he knew.
"Stay alert," Arin told Ragna. Ragna nodded, acknowledging his concern for her. She tightly held the blade Arin had given her. Her barbarian instincts were on full alert, with every sense tuned to the smallest movement or sound.
She trusted Arin with her life, but the discomfort in the air made her anxious. The webs did not appear to be normal ones made by spiders.
It seemed as if they were whispering secrets, half-truths, and lies. Worse still, she could feel their presence seeping into her mind.
As they cautiously moved forward into the tunnels, the hushed muttering, the barely audible whispers, became louder and more distinct.
Arin's sharp hearing picked up brief segments of the whispers. They were conversations, accusations, and doubts—all directed at him.
