She almost sensed the change in the air as they walked deeper under Jackal territory, as if they might notice her presence through the heavy earth packed above them and come down to end her.

“Down here,” Ryuu said as they turned a corner.

She moved closer to him, lifting her flare to bathe the path ahead in reddish-orange light.

Something scuttled in the new tunnel ahead, the sound of many legs scraping across metal.

Aina shifted the light of her flare, then gasped and jumped back so quickly, a jolt of pain went through her sore neck.

Giant, cottony webs as large as blankets draped the tunnel ahead. Falling in curtains of intricate designs, many were empty, but others were not. One web nearby held a body inside, stiff and mummified in the tight white grip of the silk. The dead creature had a long tail, short legs, and a diamond-like face.

“Is that a cat?” Teo asked incredulously, stepping closer to it in the small circle of light.

She wanted to yell at him to come back, to get away from those webs, but her voice refused to come out.

“That’s the work of cave spiders,” Ryuu said in an awestruck whisper. “They’re from the mountains, but they started coming to the city when we built the tunnels. They’re as big as wolves.”

“No, I’m done.” Aina turned around, one hand gripping her flare and the other finding her knife. “I’ll take my chances with the Jackals.”

“Come on,” Teo said with a teasing smile, holding out his arm to stop her from leaving. “You think I can’t handle a little spider? We can do this, Aina.”

“They’re not little!” she said. When he smirked at her, she sighed and turned back around. “Fine. But I’m not cutting the webs down. That’s your job.”

Ryuu and Raurie walked ahead, but before Teo could join them, Aina stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Try to keep Raurie out of any fighting we do,” she whispered. “She shouldn’t be in danger because of us.”

He nodded, then moved to join Ryuu and Raurie in hacking at the webs that blocked their path. Aina cringed away from each one, wondering where the spiders had gone. Probably to hunt.

She held the light between the others as they worked their way through the tunnel, the floor of which grew steadily wetter. Each spiderweb was so large, they could wrap around her and swallow her whole if she got close enough.

After what felt like hours, Ryuu stopped in front of a rusted ladder leading up to a door set in the tunnel ceiling. About halfway up the wall was the outlet of a storm drain, with the piping system covered by a grate. Water poured through it in a steady stream to pool around their shoes and flow down a depression in the floor.

Craning his neck to look up, Ryuu said, “That will lead to the subway tunnels.”