I was running so fast I'm pretty sure I was breaking several laws of physics and at least one local speed limit. My lungs were burning, my heart was hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs, and the only thing on my mind was: Exit. Exit. Exit.
I saw the light of the tunnel. I saw the literal threshold of the dungeon's maw. I took a flying leap, eyes closed, expecting to feel the gritty, miserable dust of the wasteland and the sweet, sweet smell of "not being eaten."
THUMP.
I didn't hit dust. I hit the soft, padded fabric of my own bedroll.
I blinked. I was back in the camp. Exactly where I'd started. Ten feet away, my "makeshift altar" was still smoking from the Wraith's entrance.
"What the—?" I scrambled up, turned around, and bolted for the exit again. I crossed the line, felt a weird zip behind my ears, and, POP, I was standing right back next to the coffee pot.
