The darkness that hunted them had finally caught up.
Shadow tendrils poured through the jungle canopy like liquid night, flowing between branches with unnatural grace. Where they touched living wood, frost bloomed instantly, leaves blackening and branches cracking under the sudden cold. The very air seemed to thicken, carrying whispers in languages that predated human speech.
"Move!" Professor Nyala commanded, silver sigils already blazing to life around her hands. "The third anchor, we must reach it before they organise!"
Saguna felt the jasper stone burning against his chest as he helped Osa to his feet. The water-marked looked drained from his ordeal with the pool, but the lapis at his throat still glowed with steady blue light. His connection to the water element had fundamentally changed, Saguna could sense it, a new depth that hadn't been there before.
"Can you run?" Saguna asked his friend.
"After what I just went through?" Osa managed a weak grin. "A few shadows seem manageable."
But even as he spoke, the temperature around the pool plummeted. The sacred waters began to steam where shadow touched their edges, and the organic script carved into the rocks started to writhe and shift, as if the very symbols were trying to escape the encroaching darkness.
Radji pressed his palms to the ground, his earth connection allowing him to sense their pursuers' movements. "Twelve entities," he reported, his voice tight with concentration. "No — fifteen. They're spreading out, trying to surround us."
Professor Nyala's sigils expanded into a protective dome over them, but Saguna could see the strain it caused her. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she maintained the barrier against the pressing shadows.
"The meeting hall ruins," she said through gritted teeth. "How far?"
"Ten minutes if we take the direct path," Saguna replied, his mind racing through his childhood memories of these jungle trails. "But that leads us straight through the village center."
"Where the spire waits," Radji added grimly.
A shadow tendril struck Professor Nyala's dome with enough force to send visible ripples across its surface. The impact made her stagger, and for a moment, the barrier flickered.
"We don't have ten minutes," Osa observed, noting how the shadows were systematically testing the dome's defenses. "They're learning."
"Then we make our own path," Saguna decided, calling fire to his hands. The flames came more easily now, fueled by his desperation and the jasper stone's power. "Radji, can you create a tunnel? Something to get us closer without going through the village streets?"
"Not a tunnel," Radji said, his connection to the earth deepening. "But I can shift the ground, create a depression we can follow. Like a trench."
"Do it," Professor Nyala ordered, her dome shrinking as more shadows pressed against it. "Whatever you're going to do, do it now."
Radji placed both hands flat against the jungle floor, the jade stone at his neck blazing with emerald light. The ground beneath them began to shift and flow like water, forming a shallow channel that led away from the pool toward the village center. Trees leaned aside to accommodate the path, their roots pulling back from the moving earth.
"Incredible," Osa breathed, watching solid ground reshape itself at Radji's command.
"Less admiring, more running," Saguna urged, as Professor Nyala's dome finally collapsed under the combined assault of shadow tendrils.
They plunged into Radji's earth-channel, using it as cover while the shadows flowed overhead like a dark river. The improvised trench was just deep enough to hide them from aerial view, but Saguna could feel the cold presence of their hunters passing mere feet above.
"They're following our trail," Professor Nyala whispered, silver sigils providing minimal light as they half-ran, half-crawled through the channel. "Our elemental signatures leave traces they can track."
"How do we hide our signatures?" Osa asked, his water abilities creating a thin film over their path to muffle sound.
"We don't," Saguna realized, understanding blooming in his mind. "We give them too many to follow."
He pressed his hands against the earthen walls of the channel, sending tendrils of fire into the surrounding soil. Not enough to cause damage, but sufficient to leave his elemental signature scattered in dozens of directions.
Understanding immediately, Osa did the same with water, and Radji sent his earth-sense branching out in multiple false trails. Within moments, they had created a maze of elemental traces that would confuse even the most persistent hunter.
The whispers above them grew more agitated, then began to spread out as the shadows split up to follow the false trails.
"Clever," Professor Nyala approved. "But this only buys us minutes."
As if to emphasize her point, a new sound reached them—the deep, resonant pulse of the shadow spire at the village center. The twisted structure was responding to the hunt, calling its scattered servants home.
"The spire knows we're here," Saguna said, feeling the rhythm in his bones. "It's coordinating them."
"Then we move faster," Radji said, extending the earth-channel further toward their destination. "The meeting hall ruins are just beyond that rise."
They emerged from the channel at the edge of what had once been Teluk Jati's community center. Where the meeting hall had stood, only broken foundations remained, overgrown with vines and half-buried under decades of jungle encroachment. But in the center of the ruins, a familiar sight made Saguna's heart race.
A section of the floor remained clear of growth, and set into it was a circular pattern of fire-blackened stones. This was where the village had once gathered to celebrate festivals, where ceremonial fires had burned for generations. Where his ancestors had honored the flame spirits.
"The third anchor point," Professor Nyala confirmed, studying the ancient fire circle with obvious reverence. "But we have a problem."
She pointed beyond the ruins, toward his family's house barely a hundred yards away. The twisted spire of shadow rose directly from its center, pulsing with malevolent energy. And surrounding the entire area, drawn by the spire's call, dozens of shadow entities had gathered.
"They're guarding it," Osa observed unnecessarily.
"Of course they are," Saguna said, clutching the red pouch that contained the ember dust. "They know what we're trying to do."
The shadows moved in complex patterns around the spire, some flowing along the ground, others drifting through the air. At their center, a larger entity presided—not quite the massive Soul Drainer they'd faced in the underground chamber, but something substantial enough to coordinate the others.
"We need a distraction," Professor Nyala said, her expression grim. "Something to draw them away from the fire circle long enough for you to complete the ritual."
"I'll do it," Radji volunteered, his earth connection still strong. "I can cause tremors, shift the ground near the spire. Make them think we're attacking from that direction."
"Too dangerous," Saguna protested. "If they catch you—"
"The triangle protects its points," Radji interrupted, echoing Saguna's own words from earlier. "Trust works both ways."
Before anyone could argue further, Osa stepped forward. "He won't go alone." The water-marked looked different since his ordeal at the pool—steadier, more resolved. "We're stronger together, remember?"
Saguna felt a surge of affection for his companions—these virtual strangers who had become closer than family in the space of days. But the thought of sending them into danger while he worked with the fire circle felt like cowardice.
"The Walker kindles the flame," Professor Nyala said quietly, reading his conflict. "That is your role, Mr. Taksa. Trust them to play theirs."
As if summoned by their discussion, a new presence made itself known. From the direction of his family's house, a familiar voice carried on the evening breeze:
Soon, little brother. The final anchor. Then we can be together again.
Sahara. Her voice was clearer than ever, carrying both hope and warning in equal measure.
The third anchor awaited. The shadows gathered. And somewhere beyond the spire, his sister's fragmented spirit watched the culmination of their desperate plan unfold.
Time was running out, and the hardest part was yet to come.