I scramble to clutch at Vlaz’s fur, remembering, belatedly, the way each movement propels me backward. I’m still fighting for balance as the ground, and everyone on it, drops away.
Wind crashes in my ears and whips the strands of loose hair about my face. For a few blessed minutes, all my other thoughts are lost. My body rocks as Vlaz shifts up and down with the invisible air currents. The sun makes orange spots dance across my eyelids.
It feels too soon when Vlaz starts to descend. When I look over his side, I can see the huge stone wall that rings the back side of Malarusk that isn’t bordered by the mountains. Lookouts are staggered every hundred feet or so, and even though we’re too far away for me to see them, I remember Dayne saying there are two Duskers with loaded crossbows in each. From here, the iron gate marking the front entrance of the citadel just looks like a dark hole in the space between the mountains.
Vlaz hits the ground with an earth-shattering force, and I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek. I suck in my breath as Vlaz narrowly avoids a giant script tree and comes to a skidding halt. His sides are lathered in foamy sweat and he’s breathing fast.
Vlaz sinks his belly down onto the ground; he’s probably as eager to get us off him as we are.
“Good boy.” Aunt Jadem gives Vlaz a pat before sliding to the ground. She takes a large, round fruit out of her cloak pocket and offers it to Vlaz. He laps it up with a single flick of his purple tongue and nuzzles her. “I’m going to miss having you around,” she tells the hyenair.
My aunt shifts back and forth on the balls of her feet, restless and uncomfortable. I’ve never seen her like this before.
“We’ll see him again in a few days,” I say, as much to reassure myself as Aunt Jadem.
She gives me a brief smile before turning back to Vlaz. She reaches up to give him a smack on his flank and says, “Go on, go find a river to cool off, and then it’s back to the fortress for the others.”
As if he understands her every word, Vlaz gives each of us a final, sticky lick, and then trots off into the trees.
“We’re about an hour’s walk due south.” Aunt Jadem points through a gap in the trees.
We have to cover the rest of the distance on foot since we couldn’t risk the Duskers seeing Vlaz. But that means we’ll have to walk right up to the gate without any protection. This will be our first test.
CHAPTER 17
A cold feeling grips my insides in spite of the relentless sun and sweat gathering along my brow. After a lifetime of hiding from the Duskers, of constant fear of drawing their attention, I’m now walking straight into their territory. For some reason, it feels like surrender.
“Take this.” Aunt Jadem hands me a thick, sand-colored cloak that is identical to the one I used to wear as a Dweller of Subterrane Harkibel.
I strip off my blue silk cloak and replace it with the drab one. I had forgotten how cumbersome the protective cloaks are…the ones every normal human must wear. The heavy, unbreathable material pulls my shoulders into a hunch. Sweat immediately begins to stream down my face and back.
Aunt Jadem chuckles at whatever expression is on my face. “You must play the part of a lowly human for a while.”
We review the plan until the iron gate comes into view.
I thought the wooden gate outside Tanguro was big, but this one is so much taller and wider. The iron is thick and unyielding. The mountains on either side make the gate appear more, rather than less, imposing.
“How are you going to get Hendrix alone?” I ask, mostly to distract myself from guessing at the number of Duskers waiting just inside the gate.
“Just leave it to me,” is all Aunt Jadem says.
We all stop walking when the trees thin and the imposing gate is before us.
“You don’t have to do this,” Dayne tells me. “We can find another way.”
I look straight ahead, but it’s not the gate of Malarusk I see. The faces of the people killed at Tanguro fill my mind until I can think of nothing else. “I have to do this.”
“Did I ever tell you it was because of your mother I joined the Solguards?” Aunt Jadem asks.
Dayne and I exchange a look.
“I’m not really sure this is the best time for reminiscing,” Dayne begins.
“She was going to run away to the Banished Lands,” Aunt Jadem continues as though Dayne hadn’t spoken. “She’d heard the Solguards were gathering there and was going to try and find them.” Aunt Jadem has a faraway look on her face. “Two days later, our parents announced her marriage to Zeidan Harkibel. Being who he was, your mother knew she would never be left alone long enough to run away. So, I told her I would go instead, because she said the world needed people to change it.”
Aunt Jadem looks at me. “It was your mother who taught me to believe in something better, something more.” She puts a hand to my cheek. “Now, when I look at you, I see that same spirit.” She gives me a small, crooked smile. “You’re going to save us all, Mer.”
My throat burns and I have no words with which to respond, but it doesn’t matter. Aunt Jadem draws me to her in a suffocating hug. Dayne makes a sound of protest but doesn’t pull away as Jadem reaches for him with her other hand.
“Now, then.” Aunt Jadem releases us and reaches into her pack, businesslike again. She pulls out the gray Dusker cloak Dayne gave her back at the fortress. I don’t ask where he got it.
Jadem strips off her blue cloak and quickly replaces it with the gray one. When she pulls the gray hood up, a feeling of dread passes through me. She looks like one of them, scarred face and all.
Dayne begins dumping the few things left in his pack—a wad of bandages, his waterskin, and finally, his lute. He runs a loving hand along its polished wood before setting it at the base of a script tree.
“We’ll be back for it in a few days,” I tell Dayne, hoping if I say the words out loud enough, I’ll believe them.
My brother gives me a brief nod.
“Dayne, if you please.” Aunt Jadem pulls on a pair of gray gloves, covering her Solguard tattoo.
Before I can register what he’s doing, Dayne pulls back his arm and punches Aunt Jadem in the jaw.
There is a sickening thud as his knuckles connect with flesh. Aunt Jadem stumbles backward.
“Are you insane?” I gasp.
Aunt Jadem holds up a hand to stop me. “Again,” she says.
Dayne hits her again. Blood sprays from her mouth as she falls to her knees. But then she stands, and faster than I would have thought her capable of, she punches Dayne back.
“Stop it!” I grab her hand, slick with blood, to keep her from hitting Dayne again. “Have you lost your minds?”
“The Duskers will need to think you put up a struggle.” Aunt Jadem spits out a mouthful of blood. “Your wounds would heal before we reach the citadel, so you’ll need to cover yourself with dirt.”
“What?”
“And tear your cloak. Not enough that you’d have gotten the Burn, but enough to look the part of a prisoner.”
Hands shaking, I rub the silty earth all over my face and cloak. I wince at the way the dirt clings to my hair, and try not to wonder if coming here is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.
Once she deems me filthy and Dayne bloody enough, Aunt Jadem winds thick, coarse ropes over our ankles and wrists. She ties them tightly enough to cut into our flesh. I grit my teeth.
Dayne looks at me through bruised, swollen eyes. “You still want to do this, little sis?”
I take a deep breath, willing my feet to take me forward, straight to the most dangerous place in the world.
“Let’s go.”
✽✽✽
Aunt Jadem and four Dusker guards, each with a sword pointed at our backs, walk us from the iron gate to the citadel’s entrance. Every nerve in my body screams danger.
A strange sucking at my boots temporarily draws my attention away from the iron gate looming ahead. The ground is…muddy.
When I look closer,
I notice there are dozens—no, hundreds—of tiny rivulets curling through the mud in the direction of the citadel. Ekil was right. It looks like the Duskers have somehow made all of the surrounding bodies of water flow straight to them. But why would they go to all that trouble?
I crane my head to see more, and stumble on an upturned root.
“Move your feet, idiot!” Aunt Jadem screeches in a voice I’ve never heard before. She gives me a great shove and I fall to my knees. The mud slurps around the fabric of my cloak.
“You too, swine!” She shoves Dayne into the mud beside me. “Do you think I have all day?”
The other Duskers laugh. One of them gives Dayne a swift kick to the back. I sneak a glance at my brother, but his eyes are downturned, his shoulders slumped.
After we’re searched for weapons, the guards allow Aunt Jadem to push us into the darkness.
“These ones go straight to the dungeons,” I hear Jadem, who barely sounds like my aunt anymore, say.
One of the Duskers grabs my chin with a gloved hand. “Might be worth something under all that dirt.” I can picture the nasty smirk on his face even though my eyes are squeezed shut. “Might be a good companion for my men.”
He laughs as my body is wracked with a shudder.
A slap rings out. I glance up just in time to see the Dusker stumbling backward and Aunt Jadem lowering her hand. “My orders come from the top. Now move aside!”
The Dusker stands back as Aunt Jadem yanks Dayne and me forward.
“We come in darkness,” she barks as we reach the two Dark God statues marking the tunnel’s entrance. On either side are twelve guards, each with a crossbow aimed at us.
“Just a minute, soldier.”
There is someone standing in front of us, but I don’t dare to look up.
“All prisoners go to the trees. No exceptions.” He puts a gloved hand on the ropes between Dayne and me.
Trees? Perspiration drips down my face and stings my eyes. It’s all I can do to keep from turning my panicked gaze on Dayne.
“These ones are an exception,” Aunt Jadem shoots back. “The Solguards are getting too bold.” She rips Dayne’s glove off, exposing his tattoo in the dim light of the tunnel. “We’re making an example.”
The Dusker keeps his hand on our rope.
“Perhaps you’d like to tell the Supreme you disapprove of her orders,” Aunt Jadem suggests, her voice low and deadly.
“Didn’t know your orders came from Her.” There is both surprise and reverence in the Dusker’s voice.
Aunt Jadem reaches around and pulls the rope out of the man’s grip. “Go in darkness.”
And then, with a vicious tug, Dayne and I are drawn down into the darkness of Malarusk.
CHAPTER 18
Guards with crossbows are posted at every branch of the tunnel. Even if I could keep track of the labyrinthine paths, there would be no way to sneak past the guards. Their suspicious gazes track our every step.
Even though it’s high day, when most people are asleep, the citadel is abuzz with activity. Scouts, laden down with armfuls of maps and messages on pieces of script tree bark, run past us on their way to deliver their reports. Captains, their black Dark God armbands prominently displayed, stride past us with a dozen or so armed soldiers marching in their wake.
At every check point, Aunt Jadem is questioned.
The farther down the tunnels take us, the hotter it gets. I’m drenched in sweat beneath my cloak. Even though we pass a well on each level, Aunt Jadem doesn’t let us stop.
The tunnel narrows and the lanterns lighting the way are spaced farther apart.
“Welcome to hell,” a voice laughs.
It takes me a moment to recognize it as my aunt’s.
I look up to see an iron grate of sorts covering the whole of the tunnel. Two guards stand at either side.
“We’ve had no orders about new prisoners,” one of the guards says, consulting a long roll of script tree bark. He keeps his crossbow aimed at Dayne’s chest.
“My orders come from the top, fool,” Aunt Jadem barks. “Move your feet, or I’ll report you.”
A long pause follows, during which I force myself to keep staring at the ground. Sheer terror sets my teeth to chattering.
“Open the passage.” This time it’s the guard standing before us.
A creaking fills the tunnel as the grate rolls back on its hinges.
“Look at her, shaking like a little leaf,” one of the guards laughs as Aunt Jadem pulls off our rope and shoves Dayne inside. Before my wrists are even untied, Aunt Jadem is striding away without a backward glance.
“No one’s going to save you now, little leaf,” I hear as I’m shoved into the darkness. There is the sound of creaking as the grate clanks shut behind us.
“Happy travels, little leaf.” The guard’s laughter fills the tunnel as I stumble my way after Dayne.
“Come on.” Dayne’s voice sounds too loud in the empty tunnel.
My stomach turns at the fetid stench of the air. Images of decomposing bodies fill my mind and I almost scream when I trip over a rock on the path.
The tunnel ends in a large, circular chamber. The ceiling is so low I need to hunch my shoulders to keep from scraping my head. The candle stubs lining the outer wall are blinding compared to the blackness of the tunnel.
“Stay close,” Dayne mutters as the outlines of people approaching us come into focus.
“Welcome to the dungeon, friends.”
The voice comes from my left elbow. I jump back, knocking into Dayne.
Two more men, all skin and bones, appear in front of us. They move as silently as ghosts. Each one holds a long, rusted nail that looks like it was pulled from one of the support beams that keep the rest of the fortress from collapsing on top of us. They hold the nails out in front of them as they would a dagger or sword.
I guess that without access to real weapons, the prisoners make use of whatever they can find down here.
“Ah, fresh meat,” one of them says, sidling up to Dayne.
I force myself to loosen my grip on Dayne’s arm before I break it.
The prisoner at my elbow glides around until he’s facing me. “A girl.” He throws back his head and laughs maniacally. The candlelight reflects off his bare chest, exposing the individual bones of his ribs. He looks more skeleton than human. “I’ve just been saying how all’s we need is a bit of fun, in’t that right, Morey?”
“Back off,” Dayne growls as he steps in front of me.
“What you causin’ trouble for, fresh meat?” The one called Morey jabs his rusted nail in my brother’s face. “You ain’t plannin’ to deprive us of a last bit of entertainment, are ya?”
It’s then that I notice it is no longer just the four of us. Other prisoners, dozens of them, are moving forward. Their eyes gleam like orbs in their sunken faces.
“We don’t want trouble,” Dayne says. “But if you make a move on me or my sister, it’ll be the last thing you do.”
From the way the other prisoners look at Morey, it’s obvious he’s the one who gives orders down here…at least when the Duskers aren’t around.
Morey laughs again. “I’ma leave it all to Wormy. ’E’s about due for ’is next feedin’.” He pokes Dayne’s chest with the rusted nail. “Since ye have more meat on ye than the rest o us, you’s is gonna go down the hole.”
“When is the next feeding?” There is no hint of fear in Dayne’s voice.
“You know about the feedin’?” Morey sounds impressed.
“Word travels far,” my brother replies.
The other prisoner turns his mouth in an imitation of a smile. “Wormy will ’preciate hearing it, I’m sure.”
The two prisoners standing before us exchange a look. Quick as a lizard darting out its tongue, Morey thrusts his nail at my brother’s neck.
In one fluid move, Dayne grabs the man’s wrist just before the metal pierces his skin, and twists.
The man screams. The nail fa
lls from his grasp.
The other man lunges for me, but Dayne told me to expect this, and I’m ready. I step to the side so the man’s fist sails past my cheek. While he’s off balance, I shove him with just enough force to send his body hurling in a perfect arc through the air. There’s a dull thud as he hits the far end of the chamber and slides to the ground. He gets back up—slowly—whimpering like a wounded animal.
Morey hisses low in his throat. “Bad move, fresh meat.”
The other prisoners, moving as silently as though they really are ghosts, have surrounded us. They all carry some kind of makeshift weapon, and the cold, dead look in their eyes says it all: they have nothing to lose.
Dayne and I stand back-to-back. I try to count them, but there are too many. We can’t stop them all.
A harsh clanging cuts through the quiet. Before the ringing ends, the prisoners have dissolved into weeping, whimpering shells. They drop to the ground and curl into themselves. Some of them tear out their hair.
Dayne grabs my arm and pushes me into the crowd of prisoners who, just moments ago, were about to kill us.
“Stay down,” he murmurs in my ear as he pushes me to the ground.
A bright light bounces off the walls as the echo of boots ricochets through the chamber. I can just make out the beefy outlines of two Dusker guards as they step through the mouth of the tunnel.
“Anyone know what time it is?” The Dusker’s voice fills the chamber.
“It’s lunchtime,” the other guard sings.
They stomp toward us, pausing to inspect a prisoner here, give another prisoner a shove there….
“Look at these weaklings,” one guard tsks. His pale skin glows in the dark. “We’ll have to throw down double the usual number to satisfy Wormy.”
A cry goes up from the prisoners, but that only makes the guards laugh.
When the heavy boots stomp over to our side of the wall, I squeeze my black eyes shut. When their footsteps still, I stop breathing.
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