People often changed in subtle ways after being scarred by something. Kono had experienced great trauma, and when he smiled there was a grimness to his face I hadn’t seen before.
“I made it back. Many others didn’t. But at least they didn’t die in the sanitarium.” He began to lead us deeper into the dimly lit tunnel.
“Our friends at the Hive, are they all right?” I asked, drawing level with him. After so many hours of being on high alert as we traveled, my anxiety about the safety of Sike, Bryce, and Arlonne couldn’t be ignored. Who knew what had happened in the Hive while we’d been gone? I tried to push the thought away, knowing that panic wouldn’t help me now.
“They’re well enough.” He moved fast through the tunnels. “I’m sure they will all be glad to see you.”
My heart lifted. Hurrying through dripping caverns of roughly carved rock, we finally emerged in a massive cave, high above the ground. Far below glowed the lake; the lichen on the walls and hanging from the rocky ceiling illuminated the Hive.
Kono led us across a broad wood-slat-and-rope bridge connecting the tunnel to an entrance at the top of the Hive. The bridge swung slightly as we carefully followed him, but the ropes held strong.
“I’ll take you to your friends, first,” Kono said to Dorian and me. His eyes glinted in sudden amusement, aware of something we weren’t.
Dorian and I exchanged a questioning look, following Kono and his companion. What was he so happy about?
Zach ran a hand along the wall as everyone filed into the Hive. “I like this weird papery stuff.”
Bravi eyed the lichen glowing across the walls and ceiling. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Interesting smell, too,” Gina commented.
I took in the scent of musky citrus as I trailed after Kono. Something felt slightly off about the Hive. Unlike the reserved quiet of before, voices murmured from deeper inside the structure.
“Things have changed,” Kono warned.
I raised a questioning brow. He led us through another hallway, and the noise level grew. Vampires popped their heads out of rooms as we passed. Our group entered the top of the central spiral of the Hive, and I looked down, down, down.
An entire city had moved into the Hive.
“Familiar faces,” Dorian commented beside me as we picked our way down.
I scanned the faces of passing vampires, recognizing some from the sanitarium. Many stared openly at the humans, and a few vampires scowled with distrust and disdain. Lovely welcome.
A vampire boy dashed past us, beelining for another passage lit by the amber lichen that denoted the council chambers. Kono scowled but said nothing. I was starting to get the feeling that tensions had grown during our time away.
Kono led us down farther and farther to the lowest levels of the Hive. Details slowly came back to me as my brain took everything in. The corridors widened, and the lichen here was a pale yellow. Kono’s shoulders never relaxed; he was nervous, which sent paranoia and claustrophobia creeping up my spine. I thought again of the aquatic wildling’s reluctance to let us in.
Noise and fervent voices spilled out of the open entrance of a large chamber. Kono stepped inside, and I hurried to join him.
A large group buzzed around a massive framework made of brassy metal in the center of the room. Tools and raw metallic materials were strewn across tables beside open notebooks. Charrek and Sike were bent over something on a workbench, various tiny tools scattered around, both too engrossed to notice our entrance. I spotted Echen, a handful of other Hive vampires, and several beautifully robed makers in some sort of assembly line. A flying wildling zipped overhead, hovering when she spotted us. A corner of the room looked murky, and my skin pricked with goosebumps when I realized I was staring at three harvesters. One plucked a soul from a lantern, dropping it into his gaping mouth. A moment later he spat the lightened soul back into the casing.
Sike addressed the oldest vampire I’d ever seen. A stout man with copper skin and cropped silver hair, his green eyes studied us with the interest of a true scholar. He was the only one to notice us in the doorway. After a moment, he looked away to answer Sike, then turned to give instructions to a wildling about a scrap of metallic fabric.
“I’d advise saving the gems for more intense magic. They have a higher breaking point,” a bald female maker said loudly to the elderly vampire.
“Is this too small to work with?” a familiar brogue asked.
My heart leapt with cheer as I saw Bryce beside a maker holding a strip of leather-like material in his hand, studying it doubtfully. His arm was still in a sling, but he was up and moving.
Arlonne passed him, snatching up several tools and tucking them into a pouch. Bryce inadvertently stepped in her way, and she smirked, placing her hand on his broad shoulder. “Get out of my way, old man. And give that strap to Reshi.”
Bryce laughed. “You’re technically older than me,” he fired back. Still, he stepped back with the tiniest of smiles. It was a subtle fondness that touched my heart.
Dorian finally cleared his throat. Several heads swung in our direction.
“Guys,” Sike cried, getting stiffly to his feet. “I was starting to think I’d never see you again!” He trotted over to us, most of his wounds apparently healed, wrapping us both in his lanky, bony arms.
Dorian clapped a hand onto our friend’s shoulder and grinned. “Glad to see you’re up and moving.”
Hugging Sike gently, I smiled, relieved to see him looking well. I wished I could let Louise know he was okay, especially when I saw him quickly scan the gathered humans for her face. He hid his disappointment quickly, but I saw it.
“Heard you led a prison break,” Bryce said. He grinned deviously at me. “I’ve never been prouder, lass.”
Arlonne hung back but cracked a smile even as her eyebrows lifted in question at the new human faces.
“You guys are legendary right now,” Sike said with endearing enthusiasm. “You’ll have to tell us about your part in it.”
“Easy enough. We used giant, carnivorous plants to break through the prison wall,” Dorian said with deadpan humor.
There was a lot to tell, but between the two of us, we managed to do a condensed version in a few minutes. Even though our human allies had all heard parts of the story before, this was the first time we gave the full narrative. I gave Zach a reassuring look when I saw his distressed expression when I mentioned escaping Zeele’s torture.
Bryce shook his head in disbelief. “Kono filled us in on the parts he saw, but there were so many blanks in the story. But I’m not surprised you and the others pulled off a jailbreak out of such a crazy prison.”
Dorian acknowledged the praise with a gracious tilt of his head, then asked, “Have you heard from Kane, Roxy, or Rhome?”
Bryce nodded. “They made their way up through the Gray Ravine three days ago—with the kids.”
I took a deep breath of relief. The thought of poor Carwin and Detra in those bejeweled muzzles was enough to make me sick. Knowing they were free of those contraptions and reunited with their father spurred me to exchange a wild grin with Dorian. Our team had made it out. That was good news, indeed.
“Where are they?” Laini asked. “Can we see them?”
Bryce’s jaw tightened. “In time, no doubt. But they’re badly shaken up.”
I wanted more answers; there was so much to learn. Before anyone could say anything else, the boy from earlier shouldered his way through our group, and he’d brought company.
Master Pyma and Master Glim cast furious glares over the workshop.
Pyma whirled toward Kono, sizing him up with her single eye. “What is the meaning of this?”
Glim narrowed his eyes to slits. “I can’t believe you’ve brought more refugees,” he said tightly. “We sent out orders to deny entrance. There is no more room in the Hive, you fool.”
The happiness of our reunion shattered.
Chapter Eleven
Th
is was why Kono had been nervous. The looks of discontent and suspicion on the faces of Hive vampires upon our arrival swam back to my memory, but I’d assumed they were nervous about seeing so many humans. Now, it seemed they were more afraid by the possibility of resources having to be stretched even thinner to accommodate us.
The sanitarium’s destruction had released over a hundred vampires and wildlings, and while some had gone north, I’d failed to consider how Kono’s offer to take escapees to safety would affect the Hive.
“We have few resources, and they grow fewer with each new stray you bring in from the wastes,” Pyma snapped.
“Utterly irresponsible,” Glim added bitterly. He glared at our group but focused his intense fury on Kono.
Pyma and Glim had none of Mox’s tact; I half expected them to banish us from the Hive there and then. Kono remained silent while the elders yelled, but a muscle in his jaw twitched. I guessed they had already had this argument several times.
“I’ve seen the horrors done to captured vampires,” Kono said tightly. “After what I’ve been through, I refuse to stand by and watch our own people get recaptured, tortured, and killed.” His eyes glistened with the kind of phantoms that lurk in all people who have experienced great suffering.
“More comings and goings from the Hive put us at risk of being noticed by patrols. No one will be safe if that happens.” Glim simmered with frustration, taking a threatening step toward us.
Bravi tensed, hand ready to reach for her dagger.
“We’re already not safe and never will be until Irrikus is removed,” Dorian said flatly, stepping forward to engage in the conversation. “We aren’t refugees, Master Glim. We’re allies, here to discuss our new initiative with the Hive elders.”
Like twin cobras, Glim and Pyma turned on Dorian.
“You!” Pyma snarled. “How dare you return! Mox misplaced her confidence in you, offering sensitive intelligence, only for you to kick the damn jaspeth’s nest. Your actions put the Hive and all vampires in danger. Then your ragtag allies come racing back to the Hive after playing hero to rescue two children, hunters hot on their heels, risking us all. It’s only because the hunters had to turn back in the Gray Ravine that they weren’t led straight to the Hive.”
I curled my hands into fists at Pyma’s derision of Kane’s group. Dorian opened his mouth to respond, but Glim was faster.
“And you’ve brought more damn humans.” He sneered, thin lips curling back. “It’s only a matter of time before the hunters can identify human auras. Then all these mortals will become homing beacons, bringing hunters right to us.”
Spurred by her companion’s fury, Pyma marched up to Dorian, her lips curled into a snarl. “You stand to be the cause of the destruction of the last remaining bastion of vampire culture. Are you selfish, or just stupid?”
She spat at his feet.
Gina’s breath hitched. Bravi’s eyes narrowed to slits.
My rage surged, the agony of a migraine chiseling behind my eyes, and this time I didn’t corral my anger. How dare she disrespect him? Our actions may have gone against what the council would have preferred, but we’d struck a blow at the heart of Itzarriol that could be the beginning of the end for Irrikus and his council. I stepped in front of Dorian, setting my burning gaze on Pyma, leaning in uncomfortably close. She was taller than me by several inches, but I felt her hesitate in her tirade as I forced myself into her space.
“It’s not our fault that any of this happened. Your safehouse was compromised before we arrived, and we had to think on our feet,” I snapped. “We did what we had to do to survive and then chose to save innocent lives that it seems you would be glad to sacrifice to keep hiding your head in the sand.”
Pyma’s eye, the one not covered in the eyepatch, widened in offence.
“Lyra.” Dorian gently placed a hand on my shoulder. “Thank you. I appreciate your support.” He gave Pyma a pointed look.
His gentle comment washed the acid feeling away like a bucket of cold water. I stepped back to stand beside Zach, reigning in the anger. We needed to be diplomatic, but I refused to let Pyma disrespect Dorian. Still, now was not the time to lose my temper and I made a mental note to watch it better moving forward.
Dorian remained the picture of composure. “It’s unfortunate that the situation has deteriorated like this but rest assured that we want to help however we can. Our previous offer of taking refugees to the Mortal Plane is still open.” He didn’t mention our more… aggressive policies; a wise decision. A taut silence passed between the two elders and our group.
“I think you’ve done enough at this point, boy,” Glim said gruffly, but his eyes became less guarded. He surveyed the mixed-caste group working on the machine, many of whom were giving him sour looks. “Though I must advise, if you and your team want a place in the Hive for the foreseeable future, I wouldn’t associate with this lot. They mess with magical weapons, go searching for hunters, and take dangerous chances to protect vampires from outside our ranks. I understand the impulse, but your previous actions and these plans endanger this place which holds the last of our precious history.”
Pyma spread her hands, exasperated. “Too many of you have already proven that you have little care for the will of the Hive.”
“Will of the Hive?” Arlonne replied icily. “At least we’re trying to prepare for the storm. Make no mistake, it’s coming no matter what.”
The ancient vampire in charge of the workshop tapped a wrench against the brass frame, drawing everyone’s attention.
“What we’re making is for the defense of the Hive, and for the good of everyone in it,” he said. His voice was raspy but kind and teemed with an energy that suggested hope. We could use more of that. I liked him already.
Pyma let out a withering laugh. “Linus, messing with magic and bringing in more refugees than we can house or provide for will do good for no one.”
“Isolating ourselves and hoping for the worst to pass will be of no use either,” the old vampire, Linus, replied gravely. “We will be asking for the council’s aid and support at the next gathering, and I look forward to a lively debate.”
“I’m not here to choose sides,” Dorian said, building off the current discussion. “My team and I wish to address the full council of elders to discuss the details of what we learned in Itzarriol and to offer solutions to your problems.”
“We will allow you to discuss it,” Glim said, suddenly sounding exhausted. He composed himself and clasped his hands together in front of him. “But the next council gathering isn’t for a few days. We won’t reschedule our busy lives around you.”
Well, we know who not to count on for support at that meeting.
Pyma fixed Kono with a sharp stare from her one eye. “You’d do well to spend this week collecting jaspeth musk instead of scouting. It’s hatching season and the jaspeths get more sensitive around this time anyway, but all these new creatures coming in and out of the cave are making them restless. Perhaps some time indoors, serving the Hive, will remind you what you’re protecting. If not, at least it will keep you from causing more trouble.”
She’d framed it as a suggestion, but it was clearly anything but. I still wasn’t entirely sure how the hierarchy worked inside the Hive—Dorian’s group had never operated like this. The extent of the elders’ power was unclear, but I should probably avoid mouthing off to any of them in the future.
“Fine,” Kono replied tightly.
The elders stormed out, leaving behind a tense mood in the workshop. Kono, for his part, looked as if the elders’ discouraging words had only strengthened his resolve.
“I used to support their policy of keeping out of sight before I was captured,” he confided to the room. “Now, I wonder how much harm my inaction caused others.” He looked around the room, making eye contact with those brave enough to meet his burning stare. “Our escape from the sanitarium required beings from all castes. It taught me that working together gives us a real chance to
fight off hunters and chip away at the Immortal Council.” Kono gestured to those working around the machine. “That’s why this group officially organized into the Inter-Caste Coalition, the ICC.”
The last dregs of my anger were replaced with sparks of excitement that I felt replicated throughout the room. I got the sense that this structure had been discussed among this group, but this was the first time it had been publicly announced. The humans that Dorian and I had brought with us shared some wide-eyed glances, trying to keep up with the complicated political situation they had just walked into. Some of the vampires, such as Castral and Laini, looked excited at the announcement, while others, like Bravi, had a slightly guarded look.
Kono’s words tugged at my heartstrings. It was an inspiring objective, and the sudden shift in energy in the room told me that the gathered vampires, wildlings, harvesters, makers, and humans were ready to step up to the challenge they had set for themselves. They’re all prepared to fight. Our collective power was something to be reckoned with. It was something the Immortal Council could never imagine: genuine collaboration based on mutual respect between all castes and creatures. I felt a similar determination swell behind my sternum, but I saw that Dorian had furrowed his brow. Knowing him, he was hesitant to openly alienate the Hive council. Even though I intensely disliked how Pyma and Glim had handled the interaction just now, I could take a step back and objectively see their point. The Hive had limited resources, and the refugee problem complicated that. The workshop clearly needed dark energy to operate, and collecting it was unarguably a dangerous task.
“I commend your endeavor,” Dorian said carefully, “however, we do need to try and work with the council members. Open hostility between factions helps no one. Don’t misunderstand me, I admire your aims, and I look forward to discussing a proposition with your Coalition later.”
Kono sighed. “Your support is appreciated, and I agree that we must avoid infighting if possible.”
There was a long pause as the mood shifted again, both groups deflated into weariness.
Darklight 5: Darktide Page 8
