The air reeked of salt and decay as Clara knelt in the mud, her fingers digging into the damp earth. The storm had passed hours ago, but the sky still hung low, bruised with clouds that threatened to weep again. She didn’t look up when the boots crunched over the gravel path, though she heard the man’s breath—sharp, uneven, like a horse after a long gallop. A few feet away, the ground trembled as he dropped to one knee, his shadow stretching across her hands. “You’re late,” she said, not moving. The man didn’t answer. Clara tilted her head, catching a glimpse of his face—thin, hollow-cheeked, eyes too wide. He looked like a ghost of someone she’d known. Her grip tightened on the spade. “I told you to wait at the creek,” she said. “You weren’t there.” The man’s jaw twitched. He reached into his coat, and Clara’s pulse roared in her ears. But he pulled out a crumpled envelope instead, the wax seal cracked. She took it, her nails biting into the paper as she unfolded it. The message inside was brief: *The mine is compromised. Come alone.* She crushed the note in her fist. “You’re a fool,” she muttered. The man didn’t respond. Clara stood, brushing dirt from her trousers. The wind whipped her hair across her face, stinging her eyes. She turned to leave, but the man blocked her path. “You think this is a game?” he asked, his voice low. “I don’t think anything,” she said. “I’ve seen what happens when people talk too much.” He stepped back, nodding. Clara didn’t look at him again as she walked toward the horizon, where the dunes stretched like broken teeth against the sky. The mine was a mile beyond the ridge, hidden in a hollow where the earth had split open. She’d buried something there years ago—something that didn’t belong to her. The thought made her stomach twist. By the time she reached the site, the sun had dipped below the dunes, painting the sky in hues of rust and bruise. The entrance to the mine yawned before her, a jagged mouth in the earth. She hesitated, then stepped inside. The air was colder here, thick with the smell of iron and damp stone. Her lantern cast flickering light on the walls, revealing veins of quartz that glittered like teeth. She moved deeper, her boots crunching over loose gravel. Then she heard it—a sound like a whisper, or the scrape of metal against rock. Clara froze. The noise came again, closer this time. She tightened her grip on the spade, her knuckles white. “Who’s there?” she demanded. No answer. The silence stretched, taut as a wire. Then a figure emerged from the shadows—tall, cloaked in a long coat that dragged on the ground. Clara’s breath caught. The man’s face was obscured by a hood, but she recognized the way he carried himself, the way his hand hovered near his waist. “You shouldn’t have come,” he said. His voice was smooth, deliberate. Clara took a step back. “I wasn’t expecting a welcome party.” The man tilted his head. “You don’t understand what you’re holding.” “I understand plenty,” she said. “I know what happens when people dig too deep.” The man’s laugh was low, almost a growl. “You think this is about the mine?” He stepped forward, and Clara saw the glint of a blade at his side. “It’s about what you took.” Her pulse hammered. She didn’t know what he meant, but she knew one thing: she couldn’t let him leave. Clara lunged, the spade swinging in a wide arc. The man sidestepped, and the blade flashed as he slashed at her. She ducked, feeling the rush of air as the knife missed her by inches. They circled each other, breaths ragged, the lantern flickering wildly. “You don’t have to do this,” she panted. “I’m not the enemy.” The man’s eyes narrowed. “You’re the only one who can stop it.” Clara hesitated. The words didn’t make sense, but something in his voice—something raw, desperate—made her pause. Before she could react, he lunged again. This time, she met him head-on, driving the spade into his side. He gasped, stumbling back. Clara didn’t wait. She ran, her boots pounding against the stone as she fled the mine, the sound of his labored breaths fading behind her. By dawn, the dunes were empty, save for the wind that howled through the hollows. The mine remained sealed, its secrets buried deep beneath the earth. Clara didn’t look back.
