"Miriam. You're beautiful."
"Um, uh." My throat clicked. I wiped my palms on my jeans. "Uh, thank you?"
He released my arms and smiled. "You're welcome."
My eyes dropped, bleary with tears. I'm fooling myself. How can we ever have more when I won't allow him his own opinion? "I, um, should get to the surface," I stammered, needlessly fishing the flashlight out of the backpack and fidgeting it on. "It-It's already afternoon, and holding so much night magic makes me, uh, nervous."
I glanced up when he didn't say anything. Delano studied me, his expression inscrutable. Concern? Curiosity? Sadness? Desire?
"Okay." He stepped aside so I could pass, then padded to his bed.
Darkness filled the space between us, a monstrous creature holding its breath.
Come to me. Come to me. Come to me.
I bit my lip. "Um, Del?"
"Yeah?"
My flashlight cut the emptiness between us like a sword. He sat surrounded in quilts, his knees curled to the side, squinting in the light.
My feet shuffled. "Thank you. For last night's lesson, I mean. I enjoyed it."
Delano smiled. "I did too." He winked. "See you tonight."
I shouldered the backpack and headed out. A moment later I heard him call, his voice slurred as if stepping through dreamland's door: "Take your cardigan, sweetie. A chill is coming."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The sunlight swung a sock of quarters at my face. My cardigan felt as stifling as a snow suit on a Polynesian beach, and I regretted being too lazy to carry the darn thing. I held an arm over my eyes and closed the mine's plank door behind me. Up here, the air felt heavy. Weighted. My muscles and tendons felt as if they'd rusted and shrunk six inches, my body curling in response.
Light covers darkness. It does not repel darkness like humans believe. Delano's words when he cornered me in a threadbare motel last winter. I groaned and rubbed my eyes. I had felt this sensation magically—the pull and release at evening and dawn—but this was my first physical experience. My body felt smothered and thick, as if trying to slog beneath a hundred feet of water.
Adrenaline had dissipated and my rationale returned. I realized Delano had been
[honest]
kind with his compliment, not mocking. I ached to crawl back into bed, but embarrassment about my behavior kept my feet sliding. The thought of cancelling lessons because I harbored a reckless amount of night magic made me weave around the manzanita camouflaging the mine. Maybe I can figure out how to use day magic on bacteria, I thought with a yawn, jostling the pack's straps to strip off the cardigan. Relieve Del of some tasks and—
I froze. A coyote lay sprawled at the mine's entrance, the top of its skull blown off. A screech owl dive-bombed me and I screamed.
Crackow!
The rock-face exploded overhead. The screech owl flapped at my face. I scrambled toward the mine's low entrance, heart hammering. Crackow! Shards rained, slicing my neck. The owl latched onto my shoulder. I slammed the wood gate closed and peeked through a knothole. A sniffer leapt from the manzanita ten yards away, a silenced rifle dangling off his shoulder.
My throat clamped a scream, making me squeak. I scrambled for the metal security gate, scrounging my pocket for keys. Boots pounded, approaching fast. Keys jangled. Clack! The lock released. Hinges squeaked behind me. I darted through the metal gate. The sniffer snatched my cardigan, yanked me back. I kicked. The owl toppled to the ground, chittering. The sniffer's death-grip on the cardigan created cotton fetters. I scratched his neck, his sandpaper cheeks, his prickly hair too short to yank. He twisted the neckline until I gagged, then rammed my spine against the stone wall.
"Darkslut." He sneered wide enough to display his gums. Red spiderwebbed his tiger eyes. I flailed, yanking his unmoving arms. His hands wrenched the cardigan's collar in opposite directions. Air stopped flowing into my lungs. Not again.
"Night, night," he sneered as gray fans fluttered across my vision.
The screech owl shrieked; its talons gouged the sniffer's forehead. He ducked and cursed, his grip remaining. Wings flapped. The sniffer staggered closer. I snatched the knife from his belt and stabbed his hip. He released, yowling. I gagged and sputtered, unable to see through the gray waves. I fell through the open gate and slammed it shut with my foot. The sniffer snatched my toe through the bars. I kicked and scrabbled backward, gasping and coughing, the gray fans parting. The sniffer rattled the gate, yelling. An enraged silverback determined to slaughter the zoo.
The owl dove through the slats and latched onto the backpack, nipping my ear to say: Get up! Let's go! I wheeled and my feet pounded rock. The flashlight's beam gored the black as metal struck metal behind me. Clang! Clang! Clang!
Please let that gate hold. Please let that gate hold. Please let that gate hold.
The tunnel expanded from a half-mile to a marathon, clanging metal reverberating off stone. I streamed past the first turnoff, the second. Clang! Clang! Past the abandoned mining cart. Now the rock formation resembling a slumbering bear. Clang! Cla—!
The racket stopped. My bladder loosened. Delano's permafrost magic seeped through my shoe-leather, and my vision snapped into focus. My body lightened as night's magic rushed into me.
"Del!" I shouted as my feet found the music cavern. "Del! Del!"
I heard the startled rustle of blankets, then Delano stumbled out of a burst of shadow as if his foot was asleep. "What's wrong?" His bleary eyes widened on where the rock shards had sliced my neck. "What happened?"
"Sniffer. Coyote dead. Owl helped," I gasped, shoving the flashlight into the pack. "I stabbed him, but he hardly noticed! He's breaking the gate!"
"How'd he find us?" Delano's voice was strained. His eyes darted around the mine as if desperate to memorize what he was about to lose. My stomach cramped. Delano exited the mineshaft through darkness or as a shadowman—trackless movements. No matter how much dark magic I wielded, I lacked such abilities without taking the darkshine. Now we paid the consequences. Delano paid the consequences.
"I must've got careless." My eyes darted from the music and the books to the dogwood leaf hanging on a painted wall. I burst into tears. "You're going to lose your home and it's my fault!"
"Miriam."
"I'm so sorry!"
"Miriam!" he snapped. "I've moved many times before. Let's get through this, okay?" I nodded, sniffling. "Attacking a darkling in their home is suicidal. It's probably the sniffer who screwed up Jenara's murder, trying to regain the Realm's favor. With both our magics a sniffer can't—" Delano stopped short, clenched a fist. "Dammit. You're too close to the darkshine." He ran a hand through his hair, released a thick breath. "Go out the eleven o'clock tunnel. Stick right and—"
I gasped. "You want me to leave you?"
"You're defenseless. If you use more night magic, you'll slip—"
"Then I won't use magic!" I said.
"Listen! Sniffers kill darklings through surprise, and he can't. Even if there's a gang, they can't swarm the narrow tunnel. Their magic is ubiquitous, but much weaker, and they can't see in the dark. I will win."
"I don't care! I won't abandon you!" My heart clenched. It hadn't been hiding in the mines or learning to wield magic which made living beneath an encroaching tyranny bearable. We, and what we created, made life bearable. My refuge became home. As I dreaded death, I realized I found something worth living for, but had been too absorbed in my ego—my personal embarrassments and worries and insecurities—to notice. Worst of all, I might never see where our life led.
Delano groaned, glancing from the tunnel to me to the living room walls. He pushed the love seat to the entryway, forming an angled shield, then stepped through bended darkness in an inky puff. He yanked a dictionary from its shelf and removed a 9mm Springfield XD from the book's hollow core.
"Do you know how to use this?"
"Yes. Sam taught me."
He dropped the loaded magazine, then handed me it and the gun. "Show me."
I crammed in the mag, racked the slide, and lined my sights at the tunnel, my arms straight and legs staggered as if ready to race, imagining the sniffer rushing to steal our creation.
Delano nodded, impressed. "At least the bastard was good for something. Here, stand behind the couch. Good. I'll stand over there and we'll pick off who enters."
Shadows slithered up Delano like serpents around a caduceus. I glanced toward the kitchen, down brick filled tracks which led to a mobile of rusty locks and keys, patchwork quilts, shampoo bottles, hair ties, a wicker hamper, half-full. The past months I saw myself as a student, desperate to find my place in a magical world. But while I'd distracted myself with bacteria growth and talking animals, trees and flight, another world had crept around me. A world of camp stoves and music and chipped cockatoo mugs. A world where a man in dark-wash jeans never organized his books, and made chocolate elixirs in a kitchen which sometimes transformed into a tiny dance stage.
How did I overlook such blaring magic? Water pipped onto stone, the mine's personal melody. How will I live without it?
Delano squeezed my hand, stared me in the eyes. My face scrunched, and I wished he only had to say I was beautiful.
"We will succeed," he said.
Fear flipped memories through my head: Bavol screaming out his despair; moths fluttering through a grieving night; the gut-yanking pain of a darkling's death. I then knew the dark rage Delano warned me about was a taleteller lie, probably an excuse for bad behaviors. For if I would've felt it, it would've been facing our deaths. Instead, I felt only sadness and panic … and regret.
Delano started around the couch. I pulled him back and kissed him. Delano tensed, then submitted. I set the gun on the backrest, gripped his hair. The arctic lightning from last night returned, shooting, racing, melting my internal lines. The owl toppled off my shoulder; its beak and talons scrambled on my shirt to prevent falling. Delano pressed my pelvis to his, as if trying to melt his body into mine.
Footsteps approached. We jumped apart. The owl scaled my shirt and backpack to perch on my shoulder. "Your timing is horrible," Delano sighed, then emerged across the room in a burst of shadow. I grabbed the gun, took my stance. The footsteps clomped louder. Louder. The distance was impossible to distinguish. Was it one set of feet? Five? An army? A trick of the echoes?
My gun shook. Delano wiggled his fingers in a come-here-so-I-can-kick-your-ass gesture. Shadows rolled along the living room floor like an approaching storm front.
Footsteps clomped closer. Closer. I held my breath to steady the gun's sights. We finally agreed to store the car keys in the leaf shaped dish on the third shelf. We'll need to pick a new spot, I thought, as if something that trite mattered when death pounded on the door.
Footsteps clomped. Night's magic charged my skin, begging to be wielded. I clenched my teeth. Closer. Closer. The mine's shadows spiraled around Delano. He practically crackled in the surging darkness. Static electricity snapped stars in his hair. "Hold your ground."
Clomp ka-lomp. Clomp ka-lomp.
Delano and I exchanged a glance.
Clomp ka-lomp. Clomp ka-lomp.
His brow furrowed. "Something's wrong."
"Is he approaching on horseback?"
Loud now. Clomp ka-lomp! Clomp ka-lomp!
An old buck wearing a headlamp plodded into the living room. It dropped something heavy onto the floor, then bolted back through the tunnel, its clomping hooves echoing off stone.
The owl's head swiveled. I lowered my gun. "What the?"
Delano's eyes narrowed. He snapped the shadows to flip the buck's delivery. Attached to the front of a rucksack were red LED numbers, counting backward. 2:01 … 2:00 … 1:59 …
Delano's eyes bulged as wide as coins on a deadman's lids. "RUN!" he yelled, then snatched me in a burst of shadow.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Delano pitched backward as if slamming into a wall when we hit the darkshine's border; I flew forward as if crashing through a windshield. I rolled when I struck the ground to prevent crushing the screech owl. Day's magic weighted my body. My night vision disappeared, the darkness an executioner's glove folding fingers over my eyes. I fumbled the flashlight out of the backpack. A streak of light lit the gloom.
"Go!" Delano rubbed his chest where he had struck the darkshine. "This tunnel leads out back. Stay right and low near the end. Hurry! Depending what's stuffed in that bag it can collapse the mine."
I glanced from overwhelming darkness to Delano, my heart racing. "I—I can't do this."
"You have to. I'll be beside you. I swear. Now let's go!" He stepped into the darkshine, his lounge pants falling to the stone.
I perched the wobbly owl on the backpack then headed into the darkness, my hand on the right wall to keep my bearings. Stick to the right. Focus on footing. You can do this. Delano is beside you.
Gravel cracked beneath my shoes like brittle bones. The LED numbers ticked in the back of my mind. How much time passed since the buck? A minute? I adjusted the LED numbers in my head and kept count, quadrupling my step to its beat.
0:59 … 0:58 … 0:57 …
I suspected safety was a quarter-mile away, the depth of Earth needed to keep the darkshine away. I tried splitting my brain, one half counting down, the other half trying to calculate how fast I needed to move to escape before the bomb exploded.
Time-bomb A displays one minute. Changeling B is fleeing to safety a quarter-mile away. How fast must Changeling B run to escape a horrific, crushing death?
Ummm. Unfortunately, I sucked at math and decided the best answer was as fast as possible.
0:27 … 0:26 … 0:25 …
One foot, then the other. No way could I make it out. My joints ached beneath the weight of day's magic. The owl bobbed with my strides. My shoes scraping along the grit sounded thunderous in the narrow tunnel, and I realized I'd lost the gun during transport.
0:03 … 0:02 … 0:01 …
I instinctively froze, my shoulders curled, eyes squeezed tight to brace for the explosion. Three seconds passed. The owl panted. Cool air rippled past. My shoulders uncurled and my eyes cracked. Maybe I counted wrong. Maybe the bomb failed to ignite. Or maybe—
The blood drained from my face as the dark's fingers squeezed my throat. Maybe the Realm is flushing me out.
My breathing tightened. The backpack was empty, intended to separate me from Delano. With him helpless in the darkshine, and me weighted with night magic, I lacked defenses. I wheeled around, expecting a sniffer's cracking whip. The flashlight illuminated mottled stone walls, moistened ground, floating dust motes. I held my breath, straining to hear scraping feet or—
Fifty cannons fired inside an empty tin can. The sound blast rammed me like a wrecking ball, flipping me ass over head. The owl plunged into the gloom, screeching. My flashlight shattered against stone. The explosion gobbled the air, my orientation, my hope, my screams. I rolled over, pawing for the owl, hacking on dust and dirt. Ringing pierced my ears.
Soft warmth squiggled beneath my palm. A beak frantically nibbled my thumb. "It's okay. I gotcha." My voice wobbled on the verge of tears, and I didn't know if I reassured the bird or Delano or myself. I tried perching the owl onto the backpack, but it toppled against my arm, shrieking. It squealed when I patted its leg.
I cradled the owl in my left arm, pressing her against my chest. "We'll get outta this," I told her, keeping my right hand on the wall. The ringing in my ears followed like a swarm of mosquitos. My swallow felt wet. "We'll be out soon."
The mine rumbled. Stone fell. Earthen walls crumbled in the black, the destruction echoing throughout the tunnels, their locations impossible to distinguish. I hacked on dust and dirt, tucked my nose behind my shirt collar. Smoke stung my sinuses and watered my eyes. The owl nuzzled its face into my sleeve.
One foot, then the other. One foot, then the other.
The rumbling encroached like thunderous hooves. My fears etched themselves into the black like a sketch-board, the images s
wirling in the darkness. Sniffer silhouettes, crushing stones, a mountain tumbling down, down, down like earth into a fresh grave. I imagined sunlight and lanterns and candelabra, trying to banish these haunting fears and keep me brave. My breathing filled the cavern, deafening in the never-ending nothingness. Three sharp breaths in, one long breath out. Three sharp breaths in, one long breath out. The sound of tears and panic scratching for release. Please, let me escape the mineshaft alive. Please, please, please. I didn't know if I begged to God or the Fathers or Earth's magic, or merely pleaded with my own resolve to not crumble.
"Miriam!"
I tensed. "Del?" Two steps later my night vision snapped into focus. Delano stood naked before me, a hand covering his mouth and nose. His free arm waved in the pluming dust. The tunnel must've dipped back into the Earth, releasing him from the darkshine. I exhaled a relieved sob and collapsed against him, blubbering how happy I was to see him, not caring I slumped against his naked body.
Delano pushed me away, held me at arm's length. "The blast flipped you around. You're going the wrong way."
"I'm what?" My heart jackhammered. That whole time I retraced my steps? Heading back to the explosion site? The rock-inclusion colored the gray wall with light checkmarks. The owl chittered and hacked. Shame flushed my face as my hope and faith sunk like concrete boots in a river.
Delano pushed me back toward the darkness, coughing. "Go!"
The mine rumbled. Rocks tumbled. The ground rolled beneath my feet, threatening to turn the mineshaft into a crypt. I'm gonna die, I realized, suffocated or buried alive. Panic scrambled my nerves. I wheeled around, hardly seeing Delano through the dust and dirt. "I can't do this alone!" I blurted and burst into sobs.
"You have to go." Delano cupped my face, his hair pale with dust, and stared me in the eyes. "I'm here with you. I'm always with you. Okay?" I nodded, sniveling. He spun me around, pressed my hand to the right wall, and pushed me into the darkness. "Now go!"
Dark Ember Page 11
