The open air tastes sweet. We have bought ourselves some time by collapsing the entrance to the tunnel behind us. It took some effort, shoving spears into the cracks of the cave’s ceiling and hauling on them as hard as we could. But once we opened them wide enough, Inifra was able to loosen them more by creating ice in the joints, and Dionus somehow finished the rest.
We don’t know how much space that will give us, but we are taking as few chances as possible. After a few more miles trek into the jungle, we permitted ourselves a real camp with a large fire; although I think the fire was more to ward off fears of man-eating Bangara than anything.
I certainly hope that the collapsed cave deters the Daedra from following. Still, we take no chances by assuming they have been stopped entirely.
As best as we can tell, we’ve traveled something close to seventy miles in the last three days. Not nearly as far as we managed in the tunnel running north, but I’d swear by every bone in the Angel’s body that we could never move so fast in the Nanten if I didn’t know of these subterranean passages. It helps when you have something to chase, or are being chased.
My legs are screaming from the exertion. This second push threatened to undo us all. The thought of being sacrificed on that bridge was a better motivation than most, but damned if I never want to put one foot in front of the other again.
I’m going to join Inifra and Timber in their nightly stretches and then get as much sleep as I can before Salisir moves us on again. The old man is in control at last; or did he ever lose it?