After the meeting, Achan returned to his tent to help Matthias pack. Matthias put all Achan’s clothing into saddlebags, and Cole carried them to Bart.
With so many people working together, camp was disassembled within minutes. The army rode west into the dark woods. Toward Darkness. The sun shone through cracks in the trees, and Achan savored every last glimpse of warmth. He suspected he would not see the sun again until this war was over.
Or until he entered Shamayim.
Arman, help us all find the way. Help me know what to do. The procession upset a flock of sparrows. Achan watched them fly through the trees. And help Sparrow to remember.
Thoughts of Sparrow suddenly consumed him, and his heart twisted into a knot. He wanted to speak to her, if only to know she was well. But he could not stomach her anger or disdain. What would she say if she saw him face to face? If she came to Armonguard, would she come to see him? She had better, or he would send for her.
He grinned. Sparrow would not like that at all.
30
Averella’s arms and legs ached from the awkward position of crawling up, up, up the steep tunnel. Every once in a while the tunnel leveled out enough for everyone to take a break—they slept twice in such places. Both times, as soon as they moved on, the tunnel grew steep again.
They all had taken a short spill at least once. Most skidded a few paces, clinging tightly to the rope. But Noam had slipped and nearly vanished. Jax had only just managed to catch the wisp of a man before he shot between Jax’s legs. If only Gren would stop retelling the tale of his near demise, Averella’s heartbeat might return to normal.
Water springs ran down the tunnel walls in numerous places, both hot and cool. Every time Peripaso passed a cool one, he pointed it out and told everyone to drink their fill.
Averella raised her foot to find the next foothold and pushed herself up. Her head slammed against something sharp overhead, blinding her with circles of white light. How had both Peripaso and Sir Eagan missed that one?
The rope tugged at her hand. Her father’s voice drifted down from above, echoing softly in the stone cavern. “Averella? Are you well?”
“I struck my head.” She twisted her neck and raised her voice. “There’s a sharp rock hanging down. Go carefully!”
Not long after Peripaso stopped for their third night, he lit a torch. The light illuminated a round cavern and the dirty faces of their party. A trail of blood trickled down Gren’s forehead from a scrape on the tunnel’s roof. Averella opened her satchel and did what she could to stop the bleeding. She had used most of her supplies on the injured in Mahanaim.
Peripaso rationed out another meal of dried reekat. The greasy meat took Averella back to the underground river outside Xulon where a reekat had overturned their boat. It had been one of the most terrifying ordeals of Averella’s life.
She gasped at the sudden memory. No wonder she had forgotten this past year. So much of it had been horrible!
Gren’s soft voice drew Averella’s attention. “Is it much farther?”
“We’ll reach the top tomorrow,” Peripaso said.
Gren sighed. “My legs will fall off before then.”
Peripaso chuckled as he bedded down in the dark cavern. “Never you fear, Madam. All this hard work will pay off. For what goes up must go down, and going down will be much faster, much more fun, and no work at all, I promise you.”
Averella wanted to believe him, but the aches in her body disagreed. She lay on the hard stone floor beside Gren.
“At least there are no beetles in this place,” Gren said. “I hate any kind of pest.”
Achan had once called Averella a pest. He had been teaching her to swordfight. He’d named her sword Firefox, she remembered now. Told her she was a hero with her bag of herbs.
Memories assaulted her then, all at once, glimpses of her forgotten days.
Achan wrestling her to the ground, calling her a weakling, teaching her to pin someone, to punch someone, to sweep out their leg. Achan knocking the breath from her time and again, forcing her face into a mound of snow.
And Mother claimed Averella loved this man? She fingered the ring around her neck and frowned. How could she have possibly endured being treated in such a way? And yet that leg sweep had proved useful only a few days ago.
More memories came.
Averella stealing Achan’s food, pouncing and knocking him off a bench, slapping honey bread against his face. Knocking him down with a leg sweep. Swimming underwater and yanking his ankles so that he fell in. And back on dry land, drawing her dripping sword and poking him in the stomach.
The memories gave way to dreams laced with fear. She woke twice from someone else’s screaming. Gren, both times. It seemed that Darkness haunted them, even in sleep.
The temperature in the tunnel dropped, and when Averella woke, the ground was frosty. Once they got moving again, the frost melted under their hands. But when they stopped for lunch, they were sitting on icy stone.
As Averella gnawed on her reekat meat, Peripaso approached. “We’ll reach the ice soon, Lady Vrell. You mind helpin’ me wrap ever’one’s hands? It’ll keep ’em warm, and from stickin’ to the ice.”
“I do not have enough linen to wrap everyone’s hands.”
“Oh, I’m prepared.” His grin shifted the wrinkles on his face. “I got bits of reekat skin for the hands and creepers for our boots. Jest need some help gettin’ ’em on.”
Averella helped Peripaso tie the soft suede skins around everyone’s hands. She had never heard of creepers, but they were short strips of carved bone, smooth and flat on one side and jagged like teeth on the other. Thongs of leather cord were looped through holes on each end so they could be tied under the sole of a boot to give traction on a slippery surface.
“Why you have so many?” Gren asked.
“I get bored, and they tend to break. I got a whole bucket full back home.”
“Where is your home, sir?” Noam asked.
“You’re standin’ in it!” Peripaso laughed. “But I got a cave I spend most my time in, just north of Xulon. That’s where I keep my things.”
“Why aren’t we going to your cave?” Gren asked.
“My cave is no place for all you fine folk.”
Averella waved Gren over. “Give me your foot so I can tie this creeper on.”
Averella and Peripaso finished tying the creepers in silence. Then Peripaso put out the torch and led them back into the tunnel. Sure enough, in a very short time, Averella’s suede wrapped hands slipped over a patch of ice. Frustrated voices rose behind her.
“Dig your foot in before you step!” Peripaso yelled.
Where it had been difficult to hold onto the rope and climb before, it was nearly impossible now. Averella concentrated on her feet. She stomped one foot into place, straightened that leg, dug the next foot in, and stood. It was like climbing a slippery ladder.
The ice got thicker, and the air cooled around her until each breath chilled her lungs. Her cheeks burned, her nose watered, and her fingers and toes went numb. The tunnel leveled off some, and Averella was grateful for the reprieve. She moved to her hands and knees, giving her toes a break.
But Peripaso did not stop to rest. He usually did this whenever the incline leveled off, at least long enough so everyone could catch their breath.
Perhaps Jax had not messaged Sir Eagan yet. Jax, who was at the end of the line, always bloodvoiced Sir Eagan when he reached level ground. That way Peripaso would not stop to rest with anyone still on an incline.
“Sir Eagan?”
He panted and breathed out a “Yes, Averella?”
“Has Jax messaged yet?”
“He has.”
“Might Peripaso be persuaded to take a brief rest?”
Peripaso answered, “We’ll rest soon enough, Lady Vrell. Have patience a bit longer.”
Averella did not know if she could make it. Her arms and legs trembled with each step, weary from exercise and cold. She hu
mmed a tune to occupy her mind. The song Achan had sung outside the gates of Shamayim.
As she pondered this, her head smacked Sir Eagan’s leg.
“Forgive me, Averella, but your wish is granted. Peripaso has stopped.”
Averella rolled to her side and tucked her fingertips between her knees, shivering.
“We have reached the summit of this tunnel,” Peripaso said. “I’m on the edge of a sharp decline. It’s very icy. We’ll slide down on our backsides, feet first. You’ll be tempted to put out your arms to grab hold of somethin’. Don’t. That’s a good way to lose a limb. Keep your arms over your chest. Hold your own hand if that’s what it takes to keep your arms in.”
Peripaso cleared his throat, and Averella could hear him shifting on the icy rock. “At the end of this first leg, you’ll fall into a pool of water. If I can keep it dry when I go in, my torch will be lit. Sir Eagan and I will pull you out of the water. We’ll gather there ’til we’re all accounted for, then take on the second tunnel. Understand? Madam Hoff?”
Gren’s voice wavered. “I-I think so, y-yes.”
“Good. It’s real important ever’one wait their turn. Once the person ahead of you goes down, count to twenty, slowly. Then go on down. Jax, will you come last and bring the rope down?”
Jax’s deep voice sounded closer then she expected. “I will.”
“‘Right, then.” Peripaso lowered his voice. “Lady Vrell? You wait longer before you go. Give Sir Eagan and me some time to light the torch and get into position. Can you count to one hundred?”
Averella scoffed and pushed herself back to her knees. “Of course I can.”
“Do that, then, after Sir Eagan pushes off.”
“I can just bloodvoice her when we’re ready for them,” her father said.
“Even better,” Peripaso said. “In fact, can you bloodvoice everyone? It would be a bit safer than havin’ ’em all count.”
“Will do,” Sir Eagan said.
“I’m off, then.” And Peripaso whooped a joyful laugh that faded as the tunnel swept him away.
“Well, he makes that sound like a grand adventure,” Sir Rigil said.
Gren’s voice came from right behind Averella. “I don’t want any grand adventures. Especially through an icy tunnel.”
Something slid past Averella’s knee. She jumped, then realized it was the rope. Jax was gathering it up. She tucked her fingers under her arms and tried not to think about it being her turn soon. The action helped her fingers, but her breastplate felt frosty against her arms.
A hand patted her head, her shoulder. “Averella?” Sir Eagan’s voice lacked its usual calm. She reached up and clasped her suede-covered hand to his. He squeezed. “All will be well. I love you, Averella.”
His words sent heat through her body. She felt a deep connection with this man. But love? “I remember so little, but thank you for loving me.”
He squeezed her hand again and released it. “You are most welcome, dear child. I am going down now.”
“But what about Peripaso?”
“He’s reached the bottom. Listen for my voice.”
“I will.”
Sir Eagan did not cry out when he launched himself down the tunnel, but Averella could hear the whir of his body sliding away over the ice.
“Did he go?” Gren asked.
“Yes.”
Gren exhaled a long sigh. “He’s a brave one.”
Averella moved her pack to her front, so she would not lie on it. Her stomach wrung within her. Her teeth chattered. How fast would she slide over the ice? How deep was the water? How cold was it? She had never been the strongest swimmer. If there was a current, would it sweep her away before Peripaso and Sir Eagan could catch her?
What if the men didn’t catch her at all? What if they were not there? What if a cham dwelled in this cavern with the convenient water source? What if it shot fire at her and ate her for dinner? What if it had already eaten Peripaso and her father? The thought tempted her to look through their eyes, but she was worried the act would weaken her. And she wanted to be strong for whatever she might face at the end of the—
Sir Eagan Elk.
She opened her mind. Yes?
Come on down, Averella. We are waiting.
He did not sound worried or hurt, but it was easy to control the tone of your voice while bloodvoicing. I am coming, Sir Eagan.
Averella scooted to the ledge, feeling with her hands until she felt the side dip down. “I’m going, Gren.”
Gren’s voice trembled. “Oh, be careful!”
“Feet first, my lady,” Sir Rigil added.
“And keep your arms in.” This from Bran.
“I shall.” Averella straightened her legs and scooted to the edge. Her heart beat like a tabor drum inside her head. She could not help but be grateful for the dark. It was better not to see where she was headed.
“Wait!” Gren screamed. “Who is going to tell me when to go?”
“Sir Eagan will. See you at the bottom.” Averella pushed off. She slid slowly over the lip, hugged her arms over her breastplate, laid back as best she could, then wiggled to make herself go.
And go she did.
She shot down the tunnel like an arrow in flight. Her heart, stomach, lungs—everything seemed to fly out, leaving her insides hollow and ringing. She hugged herself tight, wanting to scream, but no sound came. One of her internal organs lodged itself at the base of her throat, balled up, gnawing at her insides.
Before she was ready, golden light consumed her. The ground beneath her vanished. She could not help but release her arms as she flailed about for anything solid.
The pool of water was not solid.
It drenched her suddenly like a gown of icicles, pricking deep into her nerves and shocking her. Her feet hit a cold surface under the water. She kicked off it, splashed, and gasped. Strong hands grabbed her, pulled her up, lifted her out of the water.
The icy air burned her skin. She squirmed against the men’s hold. “Put me back! Let me get back in!”
Peripaso chuckled. “Oh, no, Lady Vrell. Your body only thinks the water’s warm compared to the air. It’s a lie the water tells you so it can keep devouring you.”
The men set her on a stone floor. She straightened her soggy skirt around her legs and hugged her knees to her armored chest. Sir Eagan draped a warm fur around her shoulders. She took in her surroundings.
A mushroom-like cavern arched above, the ceiling and walls covered in icy dripstones, icicles, or a combination. The torchlight reflected off the pool of water that still had waves from Averella’s swim. A thin layer of ice circled the pool as if it had tried to freeze over but could not manage to. She saw the tunnel now. It ended at half her height above the water’s surface. Icicles hung off the ledge like a goat’s beard.
The men jumped back into the water and positioned themselves to catch Gren.
“Tell her to come on down,” Peripaso said to Sir Eagan.
“But do not tell Gren that thing about the water wanting to eat you,” Averella said. “In fact, do not tell anyone that. It is a horrible thing to say. We shall all have nightmares.”
“As you wish, Lady Vrell.” Then Peripaso said to Sir Eagan, “She was less bossy as a lad, you know.”
“I rather like her bossy,” Sir Eagan said. “And she makes a good point about not frightening Madam Hoff.”
Sir Eagan’s reply kindled a warmth in Averella’s chest. Hoping to keep it in, she drew the fur around her shoulders, wondering how Peripaso had managed to keep it dry. Her stiff, cold fingers felt for the twine around her neck. Achan’s ring was still there.
A distant whistle pulled Averella’s attention to the tunnel. The whistle increased in volume until it became a high-pitched scream. Gren flew off the ledge, arms circling. Her brown skirt flew up to her knees, revealing her bare legs.
Averella hoped Sir Eagan and Peripaso had not seen her legs bared. Her gown was heavier than Gren’s. Still, her cheeks burned at the
very idea.
Going underwater silenced Gren. But when her face broke the surface of the water, she went on screaming. The men closed in and grabbed her.
They carried her to the stone ledge and sat her beside Averella. Sir Eagan wrapped a second fur cloak around Gren’s shaking form, then went back into the water.
She and Gren sat a long while. As each newcomer joined them on the wet stone, they had to trade off the furs, for Peripaso had brought along only two. Averella shivered long and hard. By the time Jax splashed into the water, her body ached from shivering.
“We can’t stay here without dry clothing,” Gren said, “we’ll f-freeze.”
“We’re not staying here.” Peripaso walked to a dark opening in the wall. “The tunnel continues on—”
“Ohh, no!” Gren wailed. “I don’t want to go again.”
Averella put her arm around Gren’s shoulders and pulled her close. “It will be all right. Let us at least hear the plan before we refuse.”
Gren frowned and laid her head on Averella’s shoulder.
“The tunnel’s only coated with ice about halfway,” Peripaso said. “There’s a river overhead. We’ll slide down, as we did before, and meet the stream, which will carry us the rest of the way. We’ll pass through several sprays of water, until at last, we come out at Mowtsa Falls and into the plunge pool.”
“Is it snowmelt?” Sir Rigil’s usually perfect hair looked painted over his scalp. His lips were blue.
Peripaso’s tunic clung to his skeletal, hunched form. “Some is. But some is from the Mowtsa River, which wends its way from Mount Bamah. And some is from the hot springs. So it’ll feel warmer.”
“Is it deep?” Gren asked.
“Aye, but we’ll be there to catch you again. In fact, Jax, why don’t you go after Sir Eagan so there’ll be three of us to tow people to shore.”
“I can do that,” Jax said.
“And I think those of you wearing armor should take it off and hold it, just so it won’t pull you to the bottom. The plunge pool is a ways deeper than this one.”
“How did you keep the furs dry?” Averella asked. “And the torch?”
From Darkness Won Page 38
