She didn’t waste her breath cursing. She just went faster, splintering another nail, banging her head. More space above. She squeezed one hand past her face, wiping her eyes as she did so, grunting in exertion. Finally, it broke through, and then she did the other. It got stuck halfway and Valkyrie suddenly started crying. She twisted and squirmed, felt the rock rip the skin on the back of her hand as it burst through to join the other. Now both hands were over her head, and she felt the air, felt the creature closing in, and she pushed.

She shot away from the creature, yelling in pain. Her jacket rode up over her chest, leaving her back bare against the sharp rocks beneath. She stopped and screamed, but didn’t let herself pause. She pushed again, cracking her head against the wall, feeling the skin rip all the way up her back.

She had space now, space to hug herself, space to bend her legs and raise her head. The exit was in sight.

“Melancholia!” she shouted. “Hey!”

There was no movement out there in the larger tunnel, and Valkyrie screamed her curses. She brought her legs in towards her, twisted sideways, cursing and grunting and sobbing, and managed to turn her body so that she could crawl the rest of the way.

She got out, got to her hands and knees, tried to stand, but she was trembling so much she collapsed. All she wanted to do was stay curled up like this. But she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t even rest. She opened her eyes, looked around. Melancholia wasn’t even there to help her up.

Her hands were cut raw, fingernails on both hands cracked and broken. The back of her jacket was soaked with blood. Every movement made her whimper.

She got up. At least her legs were OK. She could still run.

Holding her hands close to her chest, her fingers curled protectively, Valkyrie hurried on. Melancholia wouldn’t have been able to get that far, not with how badly she was limping. Valkyrie didn’t know what she was going to do when she caught up with her. Melancholia hadn’t even helped. She’d just stood there while Valkyrie was carried away. Valkyrie had half a mind to throw her to Vile and run on without her.

Valkyrie faltered when she heard a roar up ahead. Grimacing, she sneaked to the end of the tunnel, peeked round.

Melancholia was trying to climb to a higher ledge while three rat-monkeys attacked Lord Vile.

Valkyrie looked closer, trying to come up with a better description than rat-monkey. But no, rat-monkey was exactly what they were. They were humanoid, as tall as she was, covered in patches of dirty brown fur. Their faces were long and their mouths were small but packed with sharp teeth. Vile threw shadows, but they dissipated on impact. The rat-monkeys leaped on him, shrieking, bringing him down.