The scarred man shrugged. "Have it your way."

What happened next was brutal and swift. The slavers moved with the practiced efficiency of people who had done this many times before. They spread out across the narrow trail, using their nets to limit the Var'kin's mobility. Torven fought like the warrior he had once been, his blade finding flesh more than once, but he was old and outnumbered. Garren managed to knock one slaver off the trail, the man's scream echoing as he fell, but a net caught him from behind. Tessa was the last to fall, her claws raking bloody furrows across her attacker's face before a club caught her behind the ear.

In the cave, Mika watched with helpless rage. She could climb down, could try to help, but that would mean abandoning the others. The children. The elderly. The vulnerable ones who depended on her.

Zeri's hand gripped her arm, holding her back. "Don't," she whispered. "Don't throw your life away."

Below, the slavers were binding their captives with heavy chains. The scarred man looked up at the cave entrance, his eyes meeting Mika's across the distance.

"We'll be back for the rest of you," he called up. "Might take us a day or two to get the climbing gear we need, but we'll be back. You can't hide in there forever."

Then they were gone, dragging Torven, Garren, and Tessa back the way they had come. The elder's eyes found Mika's one last time before he disappeared around the bend, and in them, she saw not fear or despair, but a command: Survive. Protect them.

The cave fell silent except for the sound of quiet weeping. Mika stood at the entrance, her whole body shaking with rage and grief and helplessness. Three more of their people gone. First Kess, now Torven, Garren, and Tessa. How many more before this was over?

"We can't stay here," Zeri said quietly. She had moved deeper into the cave, exploring with the small lantern they'd brought. "He was right. They'll come back with climbing gear, and then we're trapped."

Mika forced herself to think past the anger, past the grief. Zeri was right. This cave was a temporary refuge, nothing more. They needed a real plan.

She turned to face the others. Forty Var'kin looked back at her—frightened, exhausted, looking to her for leadership now that Torven was gone. The weight of their trust was almost crushing.

"How deep does the cave go?" she asked Zeri.

"I don't know yet. But there's a passage at the back. It might lead to the deeper cave system."

It was a slim hope, but it was something. Mika nodded. "Then we explore. Carefully. We take inventory of our supplies, we rest for now, and then we move deeper into the mountain."

"And then what?" Sera asked, her voice small. "We can't live in caves forever."

"No," Mika agreed. "But we can survive long enough to figure out our next move. Maybe there's another way out. Maybe we can circle back and get to one of the other settlements. Maybe—" She stopped, because she didn't know what came after maybe. None of them did.

But they were alive. For now, that had to be enough.

The next few turns of the clock were spent in careful preparation. They inventoried their supplies: enough food for perhaps three days if they rationed carefully, water for two. They had blankets, a few tools, some rope. Not much, but more than nothing.

Zeri and two other adults—a hawk Var'kin named Soren and a badger Var'kin named Mira—explored the passage at the back of the cave. They returned a few moments later with cautiously optimistic news: the passage did connect to a larger cave system, one that seemed to extend deep into the mountain. There were even signs of water—a crucial resource if they were going to survive for any length of time.

"There's something else," Zeri said, pulling Mika aside. "Marks on the walls. Old marks. Var'kin marks."

Mika's ears perked forward. "How old?"

"Decades, maybe. But they're definitely ours. Someone lived down there once, or at least passed through regularly."

It made sense, Mika supposed. The Var'kin had been in these mountains for generations. There were probably dozens of hidden refuges and forgotten passages that the current residents of Highpeak knew nothing about.

"Could be a way out," she said.

"Could be," Zeri agreed. "Or could be a dead end. Only one way to find out."

They rested until the moon rose, taking turns keeping watch at the cave entrance. No one slept well. The children whimpered in their sleep, and the adults lay awake, staring at the cave ceiling, thinking about the ones they'd lost.

Mika found herself sitting next to Sera, who was stroking her daughter's hair as the little girl finally slept.

"Thank you," Sera whispered. "For getting us this far."

Mika shook her head. "Don't thank me yet. We're not safe."

"But we're free. My children are still free. That's because of you and Zeri." Sera's eyes were bright with unshed tears. "Torven knew what he was doing when he told you to lead."

"He didn't tell me to lead. He just told me to get everyone up here."

"Same thing." Sera managed a weak smile. "You're a leader whether you want to be or not, Mika. The others look to you now."

Mika didn't want to be a leader. She wanted to be back on the cliff's edge with Zeri, watching the sunset, their biggest worry being what to have for dinner. But wanting didn't change reality.

When the moon was high enough to provide some light, they began their descent into the deeper caves. Mika led, with Zeri bringing up the rear. They moved in single file through the narrow passage, the adults carrying the smallest children, everyone moving as quietly as possible.

The passage opened into a larger cavern, and Mika's breath caught. The walls were covered in Var'kin markings—not just a few, but hundreds of them. Names, dates, messages. A history written in stone.

"This was a refuge," Soren breathed, his hawk eyes taking in the details. "During the purges, maybe. When the Aundairians first started hunting us."

Mika moved closer to the walls, her fingers tracing the carved letters. Some of the names she recognized from stories—legendary Var'kin who had fought in the old wars, who had led their people to safety. Others were unknown, ordinary people who had simply been trying to survive.

Just like us, she thought.

The cavern had multiple exits, passages leading off in different directions. Zeri sniffed at each one, trying to determine which might lead to fresh air, to water, to safety.

"This one," she said finally, indicating a passage on the eastern side. "I can smell water. And something else... plants, maybe? Growing things."

They followed the passage, and after what felt like an eternity of walking through increasingly narrow tunnels, they emerged into a cavern that took Mika's breath away.

It was enormous, easily the size of the entire Highpeak settlement. And it was alive. Luminescent fungi grew on the walls and ceiling, providing a soft blue-green glow. A underground stream ran through the center of the cavern, its water clear and cold. And along the banks of the stream, impossibly, plants grew—pale, ghostly versions of surface plants, but alive nonetheless.

"How is this possible?" Mira whispered.

"The fungi," Soren said, his voice filled with wonder. "They must provide light for the plants. And the water brings nutrients from the surface. It's an entire ecosystem, hidden under the mountain."

It was more than that, Mika realized. It was salvation.

"We can survive here," she said, her voice stronger than it had been in awhile. "We have water, we have light, we can grow food. We can survive."

The relief that washed over the group was almost palpable. Children who had been silent with fear began to chatter excitedly. Adults who had been holding themselves together through sheer will finally allowed themselves to relax, just a little.

They set up camp near the stream, using the blankets and supplies they'd brought to create a temporary shelter. It wasn't much, but it was safe. For now, it was enough.

As the others settled in, Mika and Zeri stood at the edge of the cavern, looking back the way they had come.

"We can't stay here forever," Zeri said quietly. "Eventually, we'll need to go back to the surface. We'll need to trade for supplies, for things we can't make or grow down here."

"I know," Mika said. "But first, we need to survive. We need to make sure everyone is safe, fed, healthy. Then we can think about the future."

"And Torven? Garren? Tessa?" Zeri's voice was tight. "We're just going to leave them?"

Mika's claws dug into her palms. "No. We're going to get them back. But not now. Not when we're weak and scattered and barely surviving. We'll get stronger first. We'll plan. And then we'll make those slavers regret ever coming to our mountain."

It was a promise she didn't know if she could keep. But it was a promise she had to make, for herself if not for anyone else. The slavers had taken too much already. They wouldn't take anything more.

Zeri nodded slowly. "Okay. We survive first. Then we fight back."

"Then we fight back," Mika agreed.

They stood there for a long moment, two young Var'kin who had been thrust into leadership by circumstance, looking out at the people who now depended on them. It was terrifying. It was overwhelming.

But they were alive. They were together. And they were safe.

For now, that was enough.