He forced himself to breathe. The sheer skill required for Cade’s strategy was mind-bending—skill that should have disarmed him within minutes. This plan of attack was showy and time consuming, but it wouldn’t be instantly obvious to the runners watching, so it wasn’t meant for them. No, it was meant to convince Ky once and for all that he could not win.
So why even try?
Wrapped in his thoughts, he glimpsed the trajectory of Cade’s blade out of the corner of his eye and instinctively fell into a high guard position. He barely caught the descending blade in an awkward block over his head and instantly knew he’d made a mistake. The move was so fast and powerful, he hardly saw the flash of steel before the flat of Cade’s sword slammed into the backs of his knees, sweeping his legs out from beneath him.
He cracked his head against the cavern floor, and darkness and light flashed across his vision. Blinded, he rolled up onto one hand and knee, bringing his sword around to ward off attack. Cade’s boot connected with his wrist, bringing a grunt of pain to his lips, and sending the clunky sword flying across the room.
Blinking to clear his vision, he tried to rise, but his body betrayed him.
He fell back with a groan.
“I didn’t mind your leaving, Ky. After everything that happened, it was the only good thing you could do, and I understood that.” Cade’s harsh whisper came close to his ear. “But you should have stayed gone.”
The older boy shoved to his feet and strode away, but there was no cheering from the runners this time. No glorying in Cade’s victory or reveling in Ky’s defeat. In a way, that was a sort of victory in and of itself. A small one, to be sure, but right now, Ky would claim any ounce of victory he could get.
Cade was halfway across the room by the time Ky managed to lurch to his feet. Head spinning, he yanked the sling from his waist, snatched a rock from the cavern floor, and relying on feel rather than sight, sent it zinging against the blade in Cade’s hand.
He spat out a mouthful of blood and forced himself to stand straight. “The fight’s not over.”
19
“We’re done.” Cade wheeled around. He held his sword low, but the tip was still raised enough to be menacing. “I beat you, Ky.”
“Not yet you haven’t.” Ky squeezed his eyes shut until the pounding in his head receded, then worked his sling back around his waist like a belt. “I challenge you to fight again.”
A tug on his elbow brought him swinging around with fists raised. Syd let out a little squeak, shoved the clunky sword at him, and then swiftly backed away. Ky managed a curt nod of thanks, then gripping the unwieldy weapon in both hands, advanced slowly into the circle—slowly, because if he tried to move any faster, he was liable to fall on his face.
“It won’t ever be over, Cade. You’re going to have to fight me again, and sure, you might beat me again, but I won’t run and you can’t keep me down.” He halted before his legs gave way, set the sword point down, and leaned on the hilt. “I won’t give up. I can’t.”
Cade was already moving toward him with determined steps, blade poised for the thrust, the anger seared across his face threatening a fight that was bound to be short, painful, and all too decisive.
There could be no reasoning with him now.
Ky shrugged, forcing his voice to remain casual and unconcerned. “But where’s fighting going to get us? Nowhere, that’s where.” He deliberately turned his back to address the Underground instead. “That’s why I’m going over Cade’s head to you. To let you decide for yourselves.
“You see, I found a way out of the city.” His voice could never fill the cavern half so well as Cade’s, but if there was one thing that could sway the runners now it was a tangible hope of escape. “Now, Cade says we shouldn’t even think about leaving, that this—the Underground—is our home.”
With a sweep of his arm, he directed their gaze to the cavern with its walls of scored stone, floor worn smooth by the passage of their feet, and a roof that crouched to shelter them like the protective arms of the mothers they had lost.
“But I say that this isn’t the Underground. We are the Underground. You . . . me . . . all of your brothers, sisters, friends. This cavern is nothing more than a hole in the ground. We make it something more. No matter where we are, so long as we survive and stick together, the Underground is not lost.”
Might not have been near as fancy or fiery a lecture as Cade could have come up with, but it was the most impassioned speech Ky had ever made, and the runners had listened—really listened. He could just about see the debate raging on every face, the scales tilting back and forth, though which way they would tip was still anybody’s guess.
Shouting broke out down one of the tunnels. Four runners dashed into the cavern supporting a fifth with blood streaming from his head. They collapsed beside the entrance, and a tall girl with long blonde hair split into a pair of thick braids separated from the bunch and raced to meet Cade.
It was Slack and her crew, returned from the raid.
“They’re coming!” Slack gestured wildly with a red-stained hatchet, bearing down so fast it looked like she was planning on knocking Cade off his feet. “We need to barricade the entrance. Hole up. Get ready to fight.”
“Settle down, Slack.” Cade sheathed his sword and raised both hands—whether to break her flight or ward her off, Ky couldn’t say. “Who’s coming? What’s this all about?”
“Nikuto’s men, hard on our heels.”
Cade cursed and started toward the armory, shouting directions for the runners to arm themselves. Ky stumbled after with Paddy at his side and Slack pursuing, still explaining.
“We had a bit of a scuffle up top. Nothing serious, you know, not ’til one of ’em grabbed at little Rayne. I might’ve got a little mad at that. In fact, I reckon there’s some as might say I expressed my opinion a mite too violently.”
“You killed someone?” Paddy demanded.
“No . . . maybe . . . I don’t know. All of a sudden, there was a dozen of them bearing down upon us. We had no choice but to run. Thought we were in the clear, but they spotted us right as we ducked in the tunnel.”
She kept talking but Ky was only half listening now. He tucked the clunky sword under one arm, shoved through the scramble around the armory, and seized two pouches of stones. If a fight was coming, it would be sling-work for him. He’d had his fill of the sword. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cade slide a small leather pouch into his vest, then grab a bow and quiver and start toward the tunnel, calling over his shoulder, “How long we got?”
“Ten minutes? Still daylight up top and they got no torches, so they’re coming in blind. Slow as mud tortoises and twice as loud.”
At the tunnel entrance, Cade squatted with his back to the wall and dropped the quiver at his feet, bow lying at the ready over his knees. His head sagged. Gone was the stiff posture, firm jaw, and clipped voice of the Underground leader. He looked suddenly old, war weary. “Ky, you win. Get them out of here.”
The order was so unexpected, it took Ky aback. “Uh . . . right. Paddy, can you take front to navigate?” He spun to find Syd and almost tripped over him, and just managed to steady both himself and the boy as he returned the sword. “Paddy, have Syd show you the way. I’ve got the infirmary.”
Paddy nodded and sprang into action. “Quick now, grab your supplies, bedrolls, torches, and any belongin’s or weapons you can carry and hightail it after me!”
The barked orders set the runners scrambling around the cavern at double-quick time, with a semblance of order and purpose that Ky could only have hoped for. Slack’s team, minus the bleeding boy, gathered at the tunnel entrance behind Cade, ready to hold off Nikuto’s men until the Underground was clear.
Ky grabbed a handful of runners in passing and hurried them to the make-shift infirmary. Jena started to her feet when they busted in and tried to head them off, but the run
ners fanned out as soon as they entered, and Ky dashed her objections aside. The runners were protected only by turned up collars and scarves pulled over their mouths, but they still dove into the work without a hint of hesitation, bundling up bedrolls, hefting those too weak to walk, and offering a shoulder to those who could stumble along with a little help.
Their courage was shaming.
Ky found Aliyah in the far corner and caught her up in his arms, crutch and all. Her skin burned beneath the thin material of her dress, and a cough rattled in her throat. Hugging her to his chest, he set off at a shambling run, back through the cavern, then down the tunnel toward the cave-in.
More than two thirds of the runners had already disappeared through the little opening. Ky handed Aliyah off and cast about for Paddy, spying his lanky form at last in the center of the chaos at the top of the pile, helping each runner through and chucking their belongings to the other side.
“Oi, Paddy! I’m headed back to help Cade. Take the lead.” He waited just long enough to see Paddy wave the scrap of cloth tucked in his sleeve—the map—then he turned and dashed away, pulling his sling from his waist as he ran.
The whistle and snap of a bowstring greeted him when he reached the cavern, then Cade’s voice, strong and commanding. “That my friends, was a warning shot. There are plenty more where that one came from.”
Cautiously, Ky peeked around the corner. Cade, Slack, and her team still knelt before the tunnel entrance, arrows nocked and pointed into the dark beyond. The rest of the cavern was clear. He slipped across the intervening space and squatted beside Cade, hastily loading his sling.
“Another five minutes and we’ll be good.”
Cade’s head jerked in acknowledgement. “Leave us be,” he shouted down the tunnel, “and you won’t be harmed.”
Coarse laughter rang out in answer. “Harmed by who? A bunch of wet-nosed boys and girls what stumbled in over their heads, started robbing my marks, and causing ruckus in my territory? Now see here, that I might have overlooked. No one ever said Nikuto got worked up into a dither over naught.” The voice dropped to a growl. “But when a crazed witch hacks one of my men with a hatchet, I’m liable to grow a mite irritated. No, boy, you leave us enter, and mebbe you lot won’t be harmed.”
A rare grin flashed across Cade’s face. “Did you hear that, Slack? He called you a witch.”
“Called you a boy.” She smacked the flat of her bloodied hatchet on her palm. It was such a casual and pitiless gesture, Ky wondered if she hadn’t killed Nikuto’s man outright. “Reckon we should enlighten him?”
“Shh!” Ky motioned for silence. Something rustled down the tunnel, stealthy footsteps inched nearer, and he thought he could hear the irregular breathing of men trying—and failing—to be quiet. Threats hadn’t worked so well. Maybe this was one time where Migdon’s bold-as-brass approach would be best. At least buy them some more time. “I’m warning you.” He raised his voice, threw in a few wet, strangled coughs for effect. Didn’t sound half bad either—or rather, sounded horrible, and so, realistic. “We have the white fever here. Real bad. You come in here, you’ll catch it too.”
For a moment, all was quiet.
Ky met Cade’s skeptical look and shrugged.
The voice grunted. “Good try, boy. But Nikuto knows a trick when he hears it. Get ’em!”
Nikuto’s shout was drowned out by the rush of feet. Ky let fly his sling and was rewarded by a cry. Five bowstrings cracked and arrows zipped down the passage. Ky reloaded and slung again and again, keeping up a constant stream of flying stones, while the others waited with arrows nocked. Arrows could not be wasted on blind shots, especially when there was no return fire, and after that initial volley, no cries.
Ky was reaching for another stone when Cade seized his forearm.
“To the tunnel. We’ve held them off long enough.”
Silent as ghosts, they rose, and keeping to the wall, made their way around the cavern to the exit tunnel. Ky hung back to the last. He couldn’t help glancing over his shoulder at the cavern that had been his home for the past three years—the tunnels, the armory, the Ring where Cade had defeated him so many times, and the central fire where they all gathered at the end of a day to share the day’s misadventures.
His gaze hovered over the fire-ring. There was something lying beside it. It took a second for what he’d seen to register: the filthy sole of a little foot beneath the hem of a tattered dress and a crown of wispy brown hair.
He stopped cold. “Meli.”
Then turned and sprinted across the cavern.
Some part of him saw Slack grab for his arm and miss. Some part of him was aware of a dozen burly, hooded figures leaping into the cavern, armed with cudgels and axes and honed butcher’s knives. Some part of him heard Cade shout, “Fire!” and felt the arrows winging past and knew that he was an inch away from being killed.
But such sensations seemed distant, almost dreamlike.
Until he slammed to his knees beside the fire-ring and caught a glimpse of Meli’s ash white face. No . . . no. He shoved down the panic, scooped her up in his arms, sling still dangling from one hand, and turned to run.
“Better drop that sling, boy.” A massive man towered over him, a hammer in each hand, dark hair hanging like a mass of tangleroot vines about his coarse, scarred face. A purple welt had formed over his right eye—looked like at least one slingstone had hit home—and didn’t seem to have improved his temper any. “And go easy with it. Nikuto knows a trick or two.”
Ky’s tongue felt thick and swollen in his mouth. He shifted Meli’s limp form to get a better grip, and her head tipped back.
“Delian’s fist!” Nikuto retreated a step. “What—” But he never got the chance to finish. An arrow lodged in his upper arm, spurting blood across his yellowed shirt sleeves.
Ky dodged past his reach and ran full tilt toward the exit tunnel where Cade was already nocking another arrow to his bow.
“Go, go, go!” Cade shoved him into the tunnel. “The others went ahead.”
By the time they reached the cave-in, Ky’s breath was coming in hard gasps. Sweat stuck his jacket to his chest. He could feel the heat of Meli’s fever through the thick animal hide. It was like holding a burning log in his arms.
Slack waited for them by the opening. Behind, Nikuto’s men crashed and bumped down the narrow tunnel. It was only a matter of time before they caught up, and a little squeeze through the cave-in opening was unlikely to stop them.
“Torch!” Cade yelled. “Grab the torch.”
Ky spun to look for it, but Slack was already on the move. She snatched a torch from its wall bracket, charged back up the pile, and ducked through the opening. Thighs burning, Ky staggered to the top, handed Meli’s limp form to Slack, and then crawled through on hands and knees with Cade grasping at his heels.
“I told the others to go and not look back,” Slack said.
“Good.” It came out more as a gasp than a word. Ky scrambled to Meli’s side, cradled her in his arms, and lurched to his feet. Something crunched overhead, and flecks of dirt spattered his neck. Instinctively, he ducked over Meli then peered around his hunched shoulder.
Grinning raggedly, Cade pulled his sword from where he’d stabbed it into the roof of the tunnel. From inside his vest, he produced a small leather pouch that he stuffed in the crack, leaving a thin strand of tarred string hanging loose.
“Is that—”
“Ryree powder? Indeed it is.” Cade motioned to Slack. “Care to do the honors?”
She whooped. “’Deed I do!”
Ky started down, setting his weight firmly on his heels to keep from losing his balance. His mind flashed back to the last battle of the Underground when Hawkness’s packets of ryree powder brought the roof down on their enemies. If this was more of the same stuff, he wanted Meli well clear of it.
But he hadn’t made it far before Cade and Slack gripped both his elbows from behind and rushed him off the pile of rubble and then down the passage at a frantic run. A rumble grew behind, like the growl of an awakened animal, and the earth trembled beneath his feet. Heat blasted the back of his neck and heels. He hunched over Meli, protecting her with his body, shoulder to shoulder with Cade and Slack on either side. They crouched down, steadying him and one another.
Then it was done.
Dust and ash clogged the passage. No sounds of pursuit disturbed the heavy silence, though whether that meant the opening had been sealed or Nikuto and his men consumed by the fire, Ky didn’t want to know. He pushed to his feet, legs quivering. He wanted no more deaths on his conscience.
Cade and Slack were already up and brushing themselves off, breathless and chuckling with the casual bravery of those accustomed to danger. Ky shuffled Meli around until her weight rested against his chest, and started off down the passage, following a course his legs had trodden many times over the past several days. He waited until he was sure his voice was steady, then demanded, “Where in all the Nordlands did you lay your hands on ryree powder?”
“Thought you might appreciate that.” Cade’s long strides brought him up alongside. “Reckon it could have come in handy with your little digging project, eh?” The light tone bled from his voice. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about what happened. It will be dealt with.”
Ky swallowed the lump in his throat, but his voice still cracked. “I’d say my little digging project turned out for the best.”
Cade just grunted and readjusted the bow and quiver strapped to his back. But he didn’t deny it either, and that had to count for something, right? That was the thing with Cade, though—a fellow could drive himself to distraction and get no closer to guessing what he was thinking.
It was a good five minutes before Cade continued. “Right before you lot left, Hawkness told me about one more tunnel he and his old band had rigged to blow—suggested we bring it down too, lay low for a while. I swiped a packet or two before we set it off. Figured it might be useful.”
Songkeeper Page 20
