by Kira Brady
After a mile, the floor sloped sharply down. The angle didn’t make sense for a light-rail line; it was too deep. Any doubts he’d had about this tunnel leading them to the ceremony site vanished. Norgard must have dug it for a secret purpose. The walls became slick. Water dripped from the roof—as if the earth itself were crying. Mud climbed up their legs with a will of its own.
Hart gripped his broadsword in his right hand and used his left to feel out the tunnel wall. He was guided by scent through the blackness. The dark was his friend. Kayla stumbled behind him. She tripped over roots and divots in the floor. Sucked in every cry. He wished he could carry her, but he needed his hands free.
The pounding heartbeat grew louder the farther down they traveled. Magic thickened in the air like long forgotten cobwebs. Sparkling threads were visible when he closed his eyes. They danced over his skin, teasing the beast to come out and play. He wiped a thin layer of sweat from his brow. He reached behind him to take Kayla’s hand. Her touch centered him. He could feel her strength flowing up his arm and into his chest. It calmed his racing heart until he could breathe easily again.
Soon they came to the giant drill. It lay abandoned on its side like a beached whale of some machine-aged future. The rotating heads were silent now, but their razor edges seemed coiled to strike. Hart hesitated to touch it. It appeared to block the entire tunnel, but he could feel a light current of air from somewhere to the right. He let the Wolf tease the air and follow the faint scents of his prey across the tunnel to a narrow slit between the bore and the tunnel wall.
“Let me go first and scout it,” he said. “If I don’t come back, I want you to know—”
She covered his mouth with her small fingers. They smelled of earth from where she had reached out to steady herself against the dirt wall. “Don’t jinx us. You’re coming back.”
He thought of how far she’d come. Three days ago, she’d refused to believe in supernatural creatures she’d seen with her own eyes. Now, she didn’t dare risk naming her fears aloud in case some malevolent spirit heard and made them come true. She really did learn quickly.
He wondered if he had changed as noticeably to outsiders. From enslaved to free. From solitary to part of something greater than himself. Did she realize how much she had changed him?
He kissed her fingers and turned away, folding in on himself to slip between the metal teeth and the packed dirt of the tunnel wall. He led with the broadsword, not that there was room to maneuver, but he hoped he would have a brief moment to skewer anything that tried to get in his way. His back cramped, but he pushed on. The smell of magic was even stronger here. Finally he slipped free.
His eyes adjusted to his surroundings. Lady be damned.
Chapter 21
Rudrick let Lucia out of the small prison and into the larger cavern. It was older than she’d first thought, though the ceiling lacked roots and the usual debris one expected from an old cave. It was a perfect circle with a vast domed ceiling. Far above, a forest of stalagmites hung threateningly, the pointed tips poised to skewer unsuspecting victims on the floor below. They glittered in the torchlight like tiny stars. Not rock then, but diamonds. She wondered why no one had mined this place. The dragons, in particular, should have been drawn to the forest of priceless jewels like bees to honey. Especially given the sulfur and deep-earth vents that must be nearby.
“Where are we?” she asked.
Rudrick’s eyes shifted to her and away, and she wondered if he was going to tell her the truth. “Deep underground,” he said, finally.
She scowled at his non-answer. “No! Reee-ally?”
“The princess has recovered her irascible charm,” he said. “Good. You’ll need it.”
Great. She stuck her chin out instead of letting him see her shiver. “We’re in a cave, underground. Where is the cave? Are we still in Washington?”
“Can’t you feel it?”
She opened her mouth, but closed it when she noticed the slight vibration beneath her feet. When she closed her eyes, the darkness sparkled with a million tiny phosphorescent lights. If she had been better at her studies, she might have noticed the connection sooner. Aether clotted the air. They must be standing at a node where the strands of power that wove around and through the earth connected. She opened her eyes again and took another look at the cave walls. Except for the stalagmites above, they were smooth as an eggshell—not a natural occurrence, nor made with rough human tools. Only an Earth mage could have shifted this much dirt and left behind these glossy walls.
Rudrick led her to the other side of the cave where he’d left a backpack and a few boxes. He took out a water bottle full of yellow liquid and handed it to her. “Here, drink.”
“What is it?” She still wasn’t sure if she could trust him.
“Orange juice. Finish it. You’ll need all your strength.”
She swallowed some and immediately felt better. Her stomach grumbled. She didn’t know what time it was, or when she’d eaten last. Rudrick pulled a small takeout bag from one of the boxes and handed it to her. She opened it and found chicken chow mein and three vegetarian egg rolls. “My favorite.”
“I know.” When she glanced up at Rudrick, he looked away. It seemed suspicious that he had discovered her favorite food and brought it to her. Was it a sort of apology for kidnapping her? She dismissed the thought as paranoia and dug in, famished.
“What’s the plan?” she asked between bites. “The Gate must be strong through here. Are you planning to do something to it?”
“Not too witless after all.” Rudrick smiled and reached out to tuck a strand of blond hair behind her ear. She tried not to recoil. “You’re beautiful, princess. Who can blame you for leading Corbette astray?”
Lucia swallowed. “You think it’s my fault?”
“Many powerful men before him have been distracted from their duty by a woman’s wiles. You can’t help it, can you?” He removed the to-go bag from her nerveless fingers and set it on the cave floor. He opened another box and took out a sleeveless white robe and a sash striped in the four sacred colors—white, green, red, and black—which he handed to her. “Put this on.”
“Why?”
“You said you wished to help your people. Put it on.”
“Turn around.”
He smiled slightly, but did as asked. Lucia shrugged off her jacket and slipped out of her skirt.
“Nothing but the robe,” Rudrick said.
She glared at his back, but took off her panties and bra before tugging the robe over her head and belting it with the sash. It fell to mid-thigh. The low V-neck showed the tops of her breasts. “You can turn around now.”
He did, and she shifted uncomfortably under his too-close appraisal. This was Rudrick, she reminded herself, one of Corbette’s sentinels. He was Kivati. Even if he opposed the Raven Lord, he still had the Lady’s honor. Didn’t he?
His smile this time showed all his sharp teeth.
“I changed my mind,” she said quickly. She tried to cover herself with her jacket. “I don’t want to wear this. I don’t—”
“Princess, how can you abandon your people in their hour of need? Look at you. You don’t have any powers. You’ve failed or barely passed the basic tests in all the five powers. Your instructors report you’re not particularly bright or clever. You show no talent at weaponry or combat.”
“I do all right at healing and herbal lore—”
“But nothing to distinguish you from your fellow students.”
His words flew like arrows. The poison tips lodged deep in the secret crevices of her heart, piercing her fears with their malice. With their truth. It was as if he’d reached into her mind and snatched her worries, waving them in the air for all to see. She was useless. She was worthless. If she was the cornerstone of her people’s future, they were doomed.
Why hadn’t the Raven Lord seen her for the failure she was? Why had he gone on with this mad plan to make her the queen of his people, when anyone could see
she wasn’t worthy of the position?
Rudrick pulled the jacket away. “Your body is your only power.”
“But you said—”
“Corbette’s judgment might be clouded by lust, but his general idea was correct. What else do you have that could be of use to the Kivati? Your body is what will save our people. The Raven Lord was wrong in how to use it.”
Lucia wanted to cover her ears. She took a step back toward the center of the room. Rudrick took a step forward. The nervous twisting in her stomach was growing more pronounced. The few bites of food she had eaten wanted to rebel.
She took another step back, and Rudrick advanced.
“Your people need you,” he said again. “Corbette refused to read the prophecy as it was meant, because he wanted to keep you selfishly for his own use. The Lady has greater plans for you. She gave you to all the Kivati, not one man. Corbette didn’t have the balls to do what is necessary.”
Lucia didn’t like the fervor she saw in Rudrick’s eyes. She didn’t like the direction of his thoughts. “And what is necessary?”
Her backward progress was halted when she ran into the stone table. It bit into the back of her legs. Too late, she realized that Rudrick had herded her to this spot. He crowded her with his body. His leg pressed between hers. Lucia reached her hands behind her, searching frantically for something to use as a weapon. A stone. A torch. Anything.
Rudrick’s eyes glowed. “You will open the Gate—”
“No!”
“—and I will call upon our ancestors to set things right. The army of souls will sweep over the earth, ridding us of the Drekar and tainted humans. The Lady cleansed the earth once before in the Great Flood. It’s long past time to do it again.”
“Shouldn’t the Lady decide such a thing?” He couldn’t open the Gates. It was madness. She might agree that the Raven Lord was wrong to marry her, but she knew Rudrick wasn’t right about the Gates. Her hands were clammy. Her skin itched with the need to Change and fly out of here, but she’d never been so great at Changing when she wanted to. The tranquil state required was beyond her.
“The Lady has always selected tools to do Her bidding. I am Her servant. You and I are Her instruments. Why do you think She put us together? Why do you think She distracted Corbette and allowed Johnny to bring you here? She knows what needs to be done and blessed us.” Rudrick reached forward on either side of her, pressing her back against the altar with his body. She tried to squirm away, but he was too strong.
Too late she felt the cold bands of metal at her wrists. Too late she heard the sickening catch of the lock shackling her to the stone altar.
Rudrick stood back and smiled. “The Kivati will name you Salvation, Deliverer of the People. Don’t cry. It’s an honor to walk in our Lady’s footsteps. Just as She did long ago, now you too will sacrifice your body so that your people may live.”
Kayla felt the dark and the earth pressing in on her until she thought she might suffocate. She hadn’t thought she was claustrophobic, but with a ton of dirt above her and only a thin, stuffy airflow to breathe, she was hard-pressed to keep from panicking. If the tunnel collapsed . . .
She tried to remind herself that something much worse was about to happen if she didn’t hurry. The seconds stretched out. She wanted to call out through the narrow passage to make sure Hart was still there, except she didn’t want to alert anyone else who might be listening. Her pulse pounded in her ears, growing loud in the muffled silence until it felt like the whole tunnel throbbed with the beat of her heart. She had thought life in the ER was as fast-paced and high-stress as it got. She had been wrong. How did Hart deal with this much adrenaline on a regular basis?
Finally a shape blacker than the darkness detached itself from the drill. He came to her and wrapped her in his warm embrace.
“What’s that for?” she whispered.
He squeezed lightly and let her go. He tilted her chin up as if he could make out her features in the dark. “Do I need a reason?” He bent and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss tasted warm and desperate. Something had scared him. “Come on. Keep your knife ready. Don’t make any sudden movements. Don’t call her attention.”
Whose attention? she wondered, but she knew better than to ask. She followed Hart through the narrow gap into a wider, older tunnel. Unlike the perfectly round bore hole, this tunnel was flatter and highly irregular. Boulders jutted out from the walls and floors. At first she was glad at the increase in light, until she saw where it came from. The tunnel was awash in sparkling spider silk, beautiful and gruesome. It hung in curtains across the ceiling and down the walls. Objects the size of cows were suspended from the roof, cocooned in a glittering shroud. A few of the mummified bundles held smaller, human shapes. She shuddered and stepped closer to Hart.
“Don’t say her name,” he whispered. “Don’t even think it. Try not to touch anything.”
He led her through the tangled webs. The air was thick with the cloying sweet smell she was beginning to associate with magic. Someone had been through here before, ripping a path for them to follow. Bends and dips shaped the tunnel with no rhyme or reason. She couldn’t keep the cobwebs out of her eyes. The spider silk stuck to her hands and body, coated her hair, drifted in every breath she took. It melted on her tongue like spun sugar, but left a bitter aftertaste. Her eyelids grew heavy.
She felt someone tugging her hand, and realized she had fallen asleep for a moment. Warmth and twilight surrounded her, soft and soothing. “Want to rest,” she sighed.
“Not yet,” Hart growled. “Just a few more steps. We’re almost there.” He pulled her away from the sticky boulder where she had rested her head. She stumbled into his arms. He set aside his sword and rubbed the webbing off her face, wiping his hands on his filthy pants. He took a small flask of water out of his pocket and a clean cloth, wet the cloth and wiped her eyes with it.
Her mind cleared. “God. What is that stuff?”
“We’re in the lair of the Spider Woman. Her webs hold the world together and keep out the Birds of Torment. She is the dreamer of dreams, the future seeker, the king killer.”
Kayla bit the inside of her cheek. She didn’t want to meet the monster that had created this place. The tunnel ended around the next bend. Four archways were set in the wall, each framed by a totem pole. Kayla recognized some of the carvings: Thunderbird, Raven, Crow, the Watchmen, Killer Whale, Bear. It looked as if there was one for each of the first Animal People. A stripe of paint adorned the top of each doorway: red, white, green, and black.
Hart dropped to his knees in front of the wall. He lifted his nose in the air and scented through each doorway. His shoulders tensed in frustration. Finally he lay his sword down before him like the needle of a compass. “Lady, I know I am unworthy, but if it be Your will, please show us the way.”
It was the first time Kayla had ever heard him pray. His derisive tone was gone, replaced by urgency and something close to pleading.
A scream ripped the air. High and undoubtedly female, it vibrated with shock and betrayal. Kayla’s heart lurched like a fish on a hook.
“West,” Hart said, turning to the black arch. He grabbed his sword and jumped to his feet.
“Wait.” She drew out the small curved knife Hart had given her and stuck it point down in the packed earth beneath the black arch, marking the way. If Corbette and his men made it this far, the knife would tell them which passage to take.
“Come on.” Hart stepped through the arch. The ceiling was only a little taller than his head, and he would be able to touch either wall if he stretched out both hands. He started running. She followed as quickly as she could. The scream still echoed in her ears, sending icy phantom claws skittering over her limbs. The tunnel turned sharply. Light flickered on the wall, reflected from something in the passage ahead. It smelled like rotten eggs.
Another scream filled the tunnel, weaker this time, pain and heartbreak evident in the sobs that echoed in the tight space. The floor lur
ched up to greet them a moment later, as an earthquake shook the ground. The walls buckled. Dirt rained from the ceiling. Hart grabbed her hand. He pulled her down the tunnel and around the bend.
They flew out of the narrow passage and into an airy domed cave. Torchlight illuminated pillars of stone around the edges. The earthquake rumbled through the underground cavern, loud and low like a steam train, tossing the stone pillars as if they were nothing more than matchsticks in a box. A boulder jostled free from the ceiling and dropped. Kayla ducked right, and it slammed through the space where a moment ago her head had been. Hart grabbed her hand and pulled her down into a protected alcove, shielding her with his strong arms, a bit too tightly.
She peeked out between his muscular forearms.
An altar sat at the center of the room. Lucia was strapped to the top in a spread-eagle fashion. Her long straight hair fell over the side like a waterfall of gold. The white robe she wore was parted at the waist to expose her lower half. A thick stream of blood dripped from her wrists into a stone trough around the edge of the altar.
They were too late.
Kayla covered her mouth. Hart’s arms tightened around her.
A man stood at Lucia’s feet. Rudrick, the Fox, dressed in a flowing white tunic and pants, the white now speckled red, marked like Cain with a symbol of his betrayal. He faced them, but was too caught up in the ritual to have noticed their entrance. The roar of the earth and falling rocks hid their presence. The altar stone slanted downward, directing the blood in the trough to pool in a long thin basin in front of Rudrick. He raised the jade necklace in his right hand. Its sharp edge glittered like a knife in the torchlight. He flicked it and droplets of blood flew from the tip. He was chanting, but the words were indecipherable over the roar of the earth.
