Sometime later, Del stirred from an uneasy doze, his awareness nudged back to the waking world by a gentle touch on his shoulder. His eyes cracked open to find Elara crouched beside him, her expression caught somewhere between amusement and patience.

  “Hey, sleepy,” she murmured, her voice low but not without warmth. “Looks like Vita is awake, and the others are starting to stir.”

  He exhaled through his nose, stretching out the stiffness that had settled deep into his muscles. Sleeping on a cave floor was never the best of ideas, and his back was making sure he knew it. Joints popped as he rolled his shoulders, dragging a hand down his face before pushing himself upright.

  Around him, the atmosphere had shifted. The oppressive weight of exhaustion remained, but there was movement now—quiet conversation, people stretching, shaking off the remnants of restless sleep. Across the cavern, perched on a chair they’d dragged from the tent, Vita sat clutching a steaming mug, sipping cautiously. She still bore the grime and dust of her ordeal, but her posture was steady, and her eyes—though tired—held the same spark of curiosity and dry humour she’d had when they first met at her cottage.

  As Del stood, a strange sensation settled in his limbs. Looser. Suppler. A moment ago, his body had felt like a sack of bricks, but now...

  ‘Is this because of those stat points kicking in?’

  The idea would need more thought later, but it made sense and tied in with what he felt earlier as he had applied the points. Misty’s increase in intelligence had been undeniable—there was no reason the same logic wouldn’t apply to him.

  He glanced at Elara beside him. “Shall we see how she’s doing?”

  With a nod, they made their way over.

  Vita’s tired smile met them before they even spoke. “I gather I have you two to thank for a lot of the effort in finding us before things got out of hand.”

  Del shook his head slightly. “Elara found Naomi. She was the key to solving things.”

  At the mention of the girl, Vita’s lips pressed together in thought. “Yes, Naomi…” she mused, shifting the mug in her grip. “Paolo told me about her gift. A very rare talent indeed.”

  Del nodded in agreement, but it was Elara who spoke next, filling Vita in on the details—how they had encountered Naomi, the difficulty in coaxing her ability forward, and the delicate balance of making sure she wasn’t overwhelmed by it. Vita listened, her expression thoughtful.

  “I don’t know much of the higher magics,” she admitted. “My speciality lies more in alchemy and the simpler cantrips tied to healing arts. But Naomi was fortunate you were there. Without guidance, she may never have fully developed it.” She shook her head, as though recalling something distant. “My own small talent wasn’t discovered until I was nearly past childhood. I was lucky—a travelling healer sensed something in me and took me on as an apprentice. Without him, my abilities would have faded into the ether, lost like so many others when a child transitions into adulthood.”

  Del absorbed that quietly, glancing around as the cavern continued to stir into life. More of the rescued villagers were awake now, and the comforting scent of herbal tea wove through the air. Breeda sat with Merl, her hands folded in his as she spoke in hushed tones. Nearby, Sean, Will, and Silas were deep in an animated conversation, gesticulating wildly as they exchanged half-heard snippets of their experiences. Paolo sat on a low rock, his arm slung around Emily’s shoulder as she murmured something, her words soft but carrying the weight of someone trying to piece herself back together.

  ‘This is only the beginning for them,’ Del thought, his chest tightening slightly. The processing, the healing, the endless unpacking of what they had endured—it wouldn’t end here. Some scars healed with time. Others simply remained.

  Dragging his thoughts back to the present, he refocused on Elara and Vita. They were still speaking about Naomi, and to his mild surprise, Vita was already agreeing to help ensure the girl’s family understood the necessity of sending her somewhere larger, where she could receive proper training. “Sooner rather than later,” she added firmly, a sharp contrast to her previous musings.

  Before any of them could say more, a soft padding of paws drew Del’s attention downward. Misty, ever the opportunist, trotted over to Vita and—without hesitation—leapt onto her lap. There was a brief moment of expectant stillness before she presented her prize: a limp lizard, carefully deposited as a gift.

  Vita blinked. Then, laughter burst from her throat, rich and genuine, ringing through the cavern like the first real note of lightness since this entire mess began.

  Around them, heads turned. Smiles flickered. Some tired, some still burdened by exhaustion, but real all the same.

  And for the first time since waking, Del felt something shift in the air.

  They weren’t whole. They weren’t done.

  But for now, they had survived.

  And sometimes, that was enough.

  Paolo pushed himself to his feet, stretching out the stiffness in his limbs before gesturing for the group to start moving. “We should head back to the quarry,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of exhaustion but also quiet resolve.

  Del nodded before turning to Elara. “Did you manage to recover everything from the mage and his tent?”

  She gave a short nod, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “All safe, though they’ll need proper examination. I have the smaller items with me, but the staff and the chest—” she tilted her head towards the tent, “—will need someone else to carry them out.”

  That was fair enough. Without wasting time, Del signalled to Merl and Jake, and together, the three of them made their way towards the remnants of the mage’s camp. The tent still bore the air of something tainted—though the fire had long since died down, the scent of scorched fabric and burnt herbs lingered in the air. Whatever magic had been worked here was fading, but it had left its mark.

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  Merl and Jake hefted the chest between them, grunting at its weight. Del bent down and took up the staff, its form hidden beneath a thick cloak. Even through the fabric, a tingle of power pulsed up his arm, curling beneath his skin like a shiver that had nothing to do with the night air. He clenched his jaw, adjusting his grip.

  The sooner this was properly contained, the better.

  By the time they rejoined Elara and Vita at the rear of the group, the others were already filtering out of the cavern, their steps picking up with a shared, unspoken urgency. No one wanted to linger here longer than necessary.

  The cool night air hit them as they emerged into the open space of the quarry. Overhead, the moon hung high, casting a silver sheen across the rock face. In the distance, at the ledge above the ladder, a lone figure waved down to them.

  Lars.

  “The wagon just arrived!” he called, his voice carrying easily across the quarry floor.

  At that, the energy in the group shifted. Weariness was still there, weighing down every step, but the thought of going home spurred them on, quickening their pace.

  “We’ll need a hoist to get this damned chest up there,” Jake muttered as he adjusted his grip.

  “No kidding,” Merl grunted. “Give me an angry horse’s hoof or a lump of hot metal to lift any day over this.”

  Jake huffed. “I still don’t get how he got the bloody thing down there in the first place.”

  “Has to have been magic,” Merl replied, puffing out a breath. “Same as the poor sods he dragged down there for that cursed ritual he was trying.”

  Despite the complaints, there was no true bitterness in their words—just the familiar, good-natured grumbling of men who had spent too long hauling heavy things from places they shouldn’t have been in the first place. Hardship had shaped them, but it had never dulled their humour.

  At the base of the cliff, Del turned his attention to the next task—getting everyone safely up.

  The rope ladder was sturdy enough, but to the untrained, it could feel precarious. The last thing they needed was someone freezing up or slipping.

  His gaze landed on Breeda. The oldest one here, and the last person who should be climbing fifty feet of granite in the dead of night.

  ‘She should be in bed with cocoa, not clambering up a bloody cliff face,’ he thought grimly. But needs must.

  They agreed on an order for the ascent. Jake went first, testing the stability of the ladder before helping from above. Then, Breeda followed, with Merl so close behind her that he was practically sharing the same rungs—ready to catch her if she faltered. Step by step, she climbed, slow but determined, until she reached the top, where Lars and Jake pulled her up the final stretch. The rest followed in pairs, each rescued villager flanked by a rescuer.

  Sam went next, Jason’s body secured carefully on his back, his movements steady despite the weight. Elara and Vita climbed together, their steps sure-footed.

  Finally, Del was left alone at the bottom.

  Taking a last glance around the quarry floor, he adjusted his grip on the wrapped staff and started up.

  At the top, Merl and Jake had already rigged a basic pulley, working quickly to fashion a makeshift frame from nearby branches.

  Del exhaled. ‘Right. Back down you go, idiot.’

  He passed the staff to Elara for safekeeping, then descended once more. The rope was thrown down, and he secured it to the chest, double-checking the knots before giving the signal to pull.

  ‘You’d forget your own damn head if it wasn’t firmly attached.’

  As the chest was hoisted slowly upwards, Del climbed alongside it, keeping a steady hand on its side to prevent it from catching on jagged outcroppings. He reached the top just as the others were easing it onto solid ground.

  With everything and everyone finally above, the last task was to load the wagon.

  Jason’s body was placed with care, his presence a quiet, sombre reminder of the cost of the night’s events. The chest followed, wedged securely between the other supplies. Breeda, exhausted beyond words, was helped into the back, where she settled with a weary sigh.

  With the last of the preparations done, Merl swung himself up into the driver’s seat, glancing once at the quarry before flicking the reins.

  The return to Stonebridge was met with little fanfare—just the sharp bark of a dog somewhere in the distance, a brief disturbance in the night before silence reclaimed the village. The wagon creaked under its burden, but the sound barely registered against the hush of sleeping homes and darkened streets.

  At the gate, the lone guard on duty barely reacted. As they approached, he gave Paolo a simple nod, then turned back to his post, pushing the wooden barrier closed behind them with practised ease. No questions. No ceremony. Just quiet understanding.

  Beyond the gate, another guard paced the far side of the square, his lantern casting shifting pools of light along the cobbled path. Del barely paid him mind as they reached their stop and began unloading. The tension of the night had ebbed away, leaving only exhaustion in its wake.

  There were no long goodbyes—just simple farewells, the occasional hug, a handshake here and there. Small gestures of gratitude between people who had survived something they weren’t quite ready to talk about. Each of the rescued villagers peeled off towards their homes, drawn by the promise of familiar walls and rest.

  Paolo was the last to depart, arranging to meet them in the morning to discuss everything properly.

  With that settled, Del, Jake, and Vita turned towards the inn.

  Vita had decided to stay in the village for a couple of days—long enough to regain her strength and to be there for anyone who might need her. It made sense, and no one argued.

  Lifting the chest onto his shoulder, Del caught Jake giving him an odd look. Not suspicion, just curiosity. He ignored it. Whatever change had come over him, whether from the stat points or the simple fact that he was still standing after all this, he was too bloody tired to dwell on it now. Tomorrow could bring tomorrow’s problems.

  The inn’s warmth was like stepping into another world, the golden glow of the fire flickering across the well-worn wooden beams, the familiar scent of ale and old timber wrapping around them like a comfort they hadn't realised they needed.

  Jake placed a pint in front of him without a word, and Del took it gratefully, drinking deep. The first mouthful was sharp and cool, the kind of drink that settled into his bones and reminded him he was still here. Still breathing.

  Jake sat across from him, his own mug in hand. He exhaled, shaking his head slightly. “That was a hell of a night’s work.”

  Del let out a quiet chuckle, staring down into the foam. “Aye. But we got them all back.”

  Jake nodded, his gaze distant. “All apart from poor Jason.” He swirled his drink absently before taking a sip. “But at least that bastard won’t be stealing or killing anyone else.”

  There was strength in his words, a certainty despite the exhaustion dragging at both of them.

  Del finished the last of his pint and pushed himself up from the table.

  “We can figure out what the fuck this was all about tomorrow,” he said, clapping Jake on the back as he passed. His body was already pulling him towards sleep. “But for now, I need my bed.”

  Jake looked up, offering him a tired but genuine nod. “G’night, Del.” A brief pause, then softer, “And thanks.”

  Upstairs, the hall was quiet, the wooden floor creaking beneath his boots as he reached his room.

  The door swung open to a familiar scene. Clothes lay wherever they had been discarded, boots kicked carelessly aside.

  Elara was sprawled across the bed, her limbs loose with the kind of sleep that came only from sheer exhaustion. Misty was curled against her side, a warm ginger ball of fur, tail flicking slightly in her dreams.

  Del stood in the doorway for a moment, a small, rueful smile tugging at his lips.

  ‘We got back safe, girls. Neither of you the worse for it.’

  Untucking his shirt, he pulled off his boots and let them fall where they may, shedding the weight of the night along with his gear.

  His mind was still buzzing. Questions. Theories. Threads left untied.

  ‘Now we just need to figure out the whys and wherefores, Del, cross a few I’s and dot a couple of T’s.’

  But that was for tomorrow.

  For now, he rolled the softly snoring elf just enough to make space, slid under the covers, and let the warmth of the bed pull him under.

  His eyes shut before his head even hit the pillow.