Chapter 38 What the Dark Was Holding

“Rhee?”

The hand shook. A dirty thumbnail scraped the stone.

Rhee moved before Jin caught his sleeve.

“Look up.”

A thread crossed the narrow exit above the hand. Light slid along it, thin and hard.

Farther in, something clicked.

“Jun,” Rhee said. His voice broke on the name. “Don't move.”

“I've been trying not to since Sunday.”

Alive. Angry enough to complain.

Jin felt his own grip loosen.

Yu-ra crouched beside the opening. Her blade brightened to a narrow white edge.

“Hands over your eyes.”

Jun obeyed.

She cut upward.

The strand snapped against the ceiling with a whip-crack. Dust fell; a pale groove appeared across the rock where it struck.

Ko pushed his shield into the gap before the next strand could swing down.

It struck the metal with a shriek.

The shield's old scar acquired a fresh, shining line.

“That's new,” Ko said tightly.

Rhee crawled under his arm. Jin followed, keeping low.

Jun lay behind the jammed chest plate. His torn trouser leg was tied above the knee with a strip of lining. A flattened metal splint kept the leg straight.

“First man's plate,” Rhee told Jin. “Jun got behind it when it jammed.”

Jun had one fist clenched around an empty water pouch.

“Sorry,” he said as Rhee reached him. “Couldn't keep the others.”

Rhee pressed his forehead against Jun's for half a second.

“Shut up. Save it.”

Something slid over the far wall.

Not a shadow.

A leg.

It bent at two joints, reached the floor and sank a hooked tip into the old rail bed.

A second leg appeared behind it.

Then the broad shell came around the junction, dragging armor on strands that ran from paired openings beneath its back.

Jin's light found a gauntlet hanging from one thread.

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A closed helmet turned beside it.

The thing pulled both across its own face, as if trying on features.

The gauntlet lifted.

Its fingers curled twice.

Rhee made a sound Jin hadn't heard from him before.

“Don't,” he whispered. “Don't do that.”

Jun turned his face into the stone.

For a moment Jin saw what the last team must have seen. A companion raising a hand. Help close enough to touch.

Then the gauntlet swung sideways, trailing its naked thread.

Yu-ra caught it on her blade before it reached Rhee's throat. Metal split. The pieces struck the ground on either side of his head.

“Get Jun,” she said.

Rhee moved. This time his eyes stayed on the man in front of him.

Seo's crossbow snapped.

The bolt hit a thread behind the helmet. Frost spread along it. The hanging metal slowed, then stopped.

Yu-ra was already moving.

Her first cut took a hooked foreleg at the joint.

The severed length slammed onto the rails.

The creature folded its remaining legs beneath it and retreated around the bend with a sound like a hundred knitting needles falling down stairs.

“Loomjaw,” Seo said. “Never seen one that size.”

Ko advanced. Yu-ra went with him, keeping its working strands in front of her blade.

Jin and Rhee lifted Jun.

The jammed chest plate shifted under his heel.

Every loose piece of metal in the narrow exit jerked toward the darkness.

“Down!”

Jin shoved Jun against Rhee and threw himself over both men.

The plate flew past his back.

Its edge struck the wall hard enough to spray stone chips across his neck.

A thread caught the light between his hands.

It ran from the plate to a little hooked attachment beneath the shell.

Not pulling everything at once. Pulling whatever it had fastened.

Jin grabbed the plate before the creature could draw it back.

One of his iron hooks caught beneath its rolled edge. He closed his fist around the cord wrapped through the hook and felt the hemp bite his palm.

The thread tightened.

He planted his feet. His yellow soles squealed over wet stone.

No. Not that way.

He let the plate drag him one stride, then shoved it sideways into the narrow exit.

Metal wedged against stone.

The line snapped taut. The loomjaw lurched at the far junction, its own pull catching it sideways.

Jin unwrapped the cord from his palm and worked his hook free.

Yu-ra drove her blade beneath the lifted shell.

Sunlight burst through the gap.

The creature screamed.

It tore the attachment loose from the plate and scuttled upward, blood pattering from the wound onto Ko's shield.

Jin backed out with Rhee and Jun. At the mouth of the narrow exit, he set a first mark. Three steps carried him toward the wider crossing. He tested the last patch of stone under his heel and recorded the path.

“Can you carry him?” he asked Rhee.

“Yes.”

Jun grunted as Rhee lifted him across his shoulders.

“Try to sound less excited.”

Jin walked them to the first mark.

Above the wider crossing, something tightened.

He heard it before he saw it: iron fastenings scraping rock.

“Lights up!”

Seo raised hers.

The loomjaw clung to the ceiling beyond Yu-ra, its wounded underside tucked against the stone. Threads ran from its body to the old support brackets on both walls.

Ko took one step forward.

The creature pulled.

Brackets tore free.

A long iron ventilation frame came down between Yu-ra and the rest of them.

Ko caught its edge on his shield. His boots skidded. Seo grabbed his belt, trying to keep him upright.

Jin looked at the gap beneath the falling frame.

Beyond it, Yu-ra stood alone under the shell.

The severed foreleg lay beside her.

Three more hooked tips drove into the stone around her feet.

The loomjaw's open mouth descended between them.