by RJ Metcalf
They eased back, but tension still emanated from both. She smiled at Jeff. “Jeff, I—”
“Have you been to Artemis today?” Jeff’s voice sounded stilted, as if he was forced to say something he didn’t want to. His eyes held a tinge of desperation that she didn’t understand. Jeff stepped forward as if he was going to grab her, his hand outreached. “You need to go see her. Today.”
“I have,” she lied, tension pulling on her shoulders. Her gut was right. Something was wrong. She caught herself swaying closer to Ben, and she pulled away, straightening. She wouldn’t burden him with herself anymore. It was bad enough that he had to get her out of here. “Are you—”
“Good.” Jeff blinked once and gave a stiff nod. “Send all to her.”
“Of course.” Raine’s neck tingled. What was Artemis doing? “Have you seen Lynx?”
“Lynx is to protect her. She mustn’t be distracted from her army.” Jeff’s voice was monotone.
Chills swept through Raine as Geist swore softly to her right. Army? Why did Artemis have an army? What was she doing with Andre? “Right. Well,” she floundered, before gesturing at Ben and Geist. “We need to see him. Her orders.”
Jeff gave a choppy nod. “Main entry.” Another prisoner walked by, and Jeff turned to him, his interest in Raine completely forgotten as he followed the newcomer. “Have you seen Artemis?”
Raine moved with Ben and Geist, her heart pounding in her chest. Was this something tied in with the medical exams? What was Artemis doing?
Ben whirled, tugging on Raine’s arm, bringing it up to peer at it, his face pale. “Raine, is everyone in here tattooed?”
Her skin tingled where his fingers touched, and she simultaneously wanted to rip free of his grasp and lean into him. She opted to just stay as still as possible. “Yes. All the prisoners get branded upon arrival, and the guards partake in the ink culture too.”
“Oh, holy stones,” Geist breathed, horror dawning in his face. “You think they’ve been bonded?”
“Possibly.” Grim lines pulled around Ben’s mouth, and a trace of fear shadowed his voice. “We need to get out of here. Now.” He swallowed hard. “We can’t risk Artemis getting to Raine.” His eyes widened. “Timothy.”
Geist swore. “He’s probably been bonded.”
They walked as quickly as possible without drawing attention to themselves, but every quiet footfall sounded as loud as a dragon roar to her ears. Bonded. Here. And if the common factor was their tattoos—which would make sense for the sake of blood-bonding—did that mean that Artemis, her one friend, the one woman whom she trusted, did that mean that she was an Elph?
Raine’s breath stalled in her lungs, the second betrayal in so many weeks stabbing into her. Could it be true?
The pieces did fit. Her heart ached.
She looked across the main cavern and stopped in her tracks. The great iron gate was closed, blocking the only way out of the Hollows. She grabbed Ben’s wrist, conscious to try to not create a scene that would draw undue attention to them. “What time is it?”
He pulled out a pocket watch, and she blinked at the design. That was her watch. Gentle warmth infused her chest, and she pushed her emotions down with a ruthless inner snarl. This was not the time to be distracted by a friend with whom she had no future. Ben popped it open and angled the face of the watch toward her. It was evening, but not night. The gate should be open.
“She must be trying to bond everyone in here, now.” Raine whispered, aware of the men standing by the desk watching them. “We have to get out of here. We need to warn the nearby cities” Sorrow ripped her heart, cracking her voice. “Without Andre.”
Ben angled his body toward hers, holding himself in a similar position as the gaggle of guards in what had to be his attempt to blend in. He nodded stiffly. “How?”
Geist mimicked Ben’s posture, his eyes scanning the room while he pitched his voice low. “Is there an air shaft we can take?”
“No, they’re all grated off at the top.” Raine blew out a breath, her mind racing. Everything she knew of had a closure of some sort to prevent prisoners from escaping. A tunnel flashed into mind. The tunnel. She shuddered and eyed the swords the two wore. They were armed, and this time they wouldn’t necessarily be surprised. It was a chance. A slim chance. More like a suicidal chance. “There may be a way. But it’d be dangerous. Incredibly so.”
Ben didn’t hesitate. “We’re already in incredible danger. Lead on.”
She led through the long tunnel leading to the active mine, watching for other guards or prisoners. How many had Artemis already blood-bonded? The war was already starting, but from the inside out. The knowledge terrified her. What was happening out there, in the rest of the world?
She led them down one long hall to the circular shaft of the active dig sight, then through the splintered paths from the next cavern. Eventually they didn’t run into anyone else, and she breathed a small sigh of relief. One less concern to deal with. Though now they’d have to break through the cement that was sealed over the tunnel.
“How do you remember your way around here?” Awe rang in Ben’s voice, and she flushed slightly.
“I’ve worked here just long enough.” She forced herself to stay focused on her path and not be distracted by how impressed he seemed. And she couldn’t be distracted by the pain that her words meant for her; She’d been here just long enough for everything to go horribly wrong.
She kept her eye out for any buggies or mine carts that they could check for explosives or pickaxes. They’d need something to get through the tunnel seal, and using their swords against the compacted terrain would be folly. She pointed out the shadowed form of a mine cart near tunnel one. “Check it for tools, especially explosives. We need to break something.”
Geist’s eyes lit up in the dim tunnel. “I like your thinking.” He gave her a friendly wink. “Leaving with a bang, eh?”
Ben groaned as Geist jogged ahead to check the cart. “I’m sorry, his humor is not well timed.”
She could only give a wry grin as a response, her attention on the dark tunnel. She didn’t know how thick the cement was, or how many dragon spiders were behind the seal. There was at least one, and however many might still be there, if that was an egg sac she had seen before. Maybe the babies had all grown and moved on? But that still left one dragon spider to contend with. Would they survive going through there? What if the opening on the other side was too small for them to even squeeze out? They didn’t have head lamps, and they’d be in the dark without Papa’s fire or anything useful like that. They were essentially about to commit suicide by an armored spider that wielded pincers, teeth, and the ability to light its own web on fire.
Better death by spiders than being bonded.
Geist returned, holding a pickaxe in one hand and a rounded bomb in the other hand. He lifted them both for her inspection. “Will these work?”
“Good enough.” Raine swallowed hard and glanced up at the luminary crystal hanging overhead. If it were close enough to reach, she’d suggest taking it with them, but it wasn’t. “Here’s to hoping this works.”
“Hold on a tick,” Geist held his hand out in a cautionary gesture. “You have no weapon.” He motioned at Ben. “Give her your sword. You’re better at the rifle and pistol anyway.”
Ben gave a start and immediately unstrapped his sword belt, holding it out to her. “He’s right. If there’s danger ahead, you need to be armed.” He lifted it, expectant.
Raine stared at the sword for a long moment, catching sight of herself in the glossy black hilt. A dark smudge on her brow caught her attention and she rubbed at her forehead. Dried blood flaked off. Simon’s blood. Simon’s voice whispered his last word to her: Murderer. She shuddered, her stomach threatening to rebel. “I—I can’t.”
Ben hovered his hand over her arm, as if reluctant to touch her, reluctant to have such contact with a criminal like her. He kept his voice gentle. “You need to be able to protect yoursel
f, Raine.”
She tried to hide the jolt that passed through her at his words. Did he know?
“Don’t be stupid. It’s your life and ours.” Geist gave her a pointed stare. “We’re getting you home. Like it or not. And that means we’re working together. If you won’t take it for yourself, take it to defend us.”
She swallowed back nausea and gripped the handle. Her gut clenched. “Okay.”
Ben’s warm fingers gently rubbed her arm, and it was as if his confidence and strength were trying to pour from him and into her. He gave her a confident smile. “We’re a good team. We’ll make it out.”
How could he smile at her like that? How could he pretend that nothing horrible had happened by her hand? She looked away, her palms sweating. “I hope you didn’t just jinx us.”
Chapter Fifty-One
Ben
Ben frowned to himself when Raine turned away and buckled on his sword belt, her dark eyes pools of sorrow and guilt in the shadows of the mine. Whatever happened to her here in the Hollows had seriously screwed with her. And if he wasn’t careful, being distracted with concern for her would get them all killed. He needed to prioritize. Survive. Escape. Find Finn. Then they’d work together to help Raine break whatever this funk was.
For now, what would Finn do?
Ben shook his head. Finn would magic them out somehow. And he’d hug her.
Raine chipped at the cement with the pickaxe until she worked a crevasse in the wall big enough for the bomb to rest in. She stepped back, investigating her work before giving a satisfied nod. She turned to face him, her expression equal parts pleased and nervous. “I fear the noise will attract unwanted attention, but I just can’t think of another option.”
“We’ll make it work,” Ben assured her. He hesitated, feeling the pressure of time and the need to escape now before they pushed their luck any further, and also feeling the concern of watching a friend slowly break in front of him. He didn’t know what the problem was, if it was what his gut and experience with Sara told him, and he didn’t know what to do, how to help. “Raine.”
She turned and shoved her salt-streaked braid behind her. “What?”
“I—” Ben floundered, searching for words. Geist raised his eyebrows and turned on his heel to study the cement wall, giving them the tiniest bit of privacy. Ben coughed. “Before I forget, Finn asked me to give this to you.”
Before he could lose his courage or think twice about it, he stepped into her space, pausing just long enough that she could push him away if she wanted, and when she didn’t, he wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. She stiffened at his touch and panic surged through Ben. Had he just made a big mistake? Was she angry? Had he hurt her just now? Hugging hadn’t been a thing between them before, but they’d been through some rough spots, so it made sense to hug now, right? Then her hands traced up his back, clutching his shirt, pressing the steam rifle into his spine as she returned the hug. She nestled her face into the crook of his neck, essentially hiding, but the simple fact that she was returning the gesture was enough for Ben. He pretended to ignore the slight shuddering that ran through her and resisted the urge to kiss her head. He wasn’t going to push her boundaries. He settled for leaning forward to whisper in her ear, “We’ll get out of here. I promise.”
“I hope so.” Her grip on him loosened, and he immediately let go, trying to not press his luck or cross lines that he’d probably just wrecked. She gave him a small, watery smile that threatened to shatter him. “I’d hate to see any of us be bonded.”
“Whales.” The whites of Geist’s eyes seemed to almost flash in the darkness. “I almost said yes to getting a tattoo from her. I could’ve been bonded just like that.” He snapped his fingers for emphasis.
Raine ran her fingers over the two tattoos that circled around her forearm, sorrow tugging her lips to the ground. “I don’t know how close she needs to be, but I don’t want to risk it.” She took a deep breath and lifted her hand to the bomb waiting in the wall. “We’ll light this, hide around the corner for it to go off, pray it doesn’t cause a tunnel collapse, then run through there as fast as possible, and try to not get killed.”
“You never mentioned—” Ben rubbed his hand over his sword hilt. “What, exactly, is the danger in that tunnel?”
Raine grimaced. “Aside from the unknown of the terrain and stability, the unknown of the air quality, the unknown of black water? At least one dragon spider.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
Jade
Jade tugged one of her lists across the marble table-top and double-checked the numbers on it before crossing out the line she had just written moments before on her own sheet. She rubbed her templesand glanced up at Zaborah.
A deep line creased Zaborah’s forehead as she compared her notes. She looked up at Jade. “We can send a carrier hawk to Vodan, see if they can produce more blankets for the refugees.”
Jade dropped her pen on the table and groaned. “But they’re already making more uniforms and materials for the armies. I don’t know how much more we can ask for.”
“Well, we need something to keep the people warm once the snow comes in,” Zaborah pointed out reasonably. “If that means we have to ask countries to work extra, so be it. It’s war.”
“I know, I know.” Jade stuck her tongue out at the paper, uncaring if it was a childish thing to do. “Start drafting a letter, we’ll send it this afternoon. I hate asking for more, but you’re right.”
Zaborah grabbed fresh paper with the Doldra crest emblazoned across the top and started writing.
Jade stared out the window. She’d wanted to assist, and this was definitely helping. Yesterday, they’d worked on food allocations, and today they were focusing on shelter and other needs. But this wasn’t her forte, and she didn’t love the work. Not like Aunt Garnet.
If only Aunt Garnet would return already from Doldra, and then they could work on this together. Or even Grandmother Ellie.
Tension wrapped heavy fingers around her head, and Jade massaged at the headache, letting the room fall quiet again, with just the simple scritching sound of the pen on paper as Zaborah worked. Zaborah glanced up at Jade, then at her pocket watch that had remained open on her side of the table. A shadow of resignation darkened her face before a half-grin that Jade couldn’t interpret curled Zaborah’s lip up on the side.
Zaborah stood and offered her hand to Jade. “I think you need a break, Your Highness.”
Jade blinked at Zaborah’s hand before letting her bodyguard tug her up to her feet. “I thought we were waiting for Zak to get back from the wall?”
Zaborah dropped Jade’s hand and turned away, but not before Jade saw the smirk. “Maybe we’ll find him on our way,” Zaborah stated casually.
Jade stared at Zaborah’s back. Something was going on. Since when was Zaborah the first to encourage taking breaks? Let alone be so dismissive about their schedule? Zaborah was the one who always knew where Jade had to be and when and why. It was Zaborah who pushed for Jade to step up to be a leader.
But now? Curiosity was a live wire tethering Jade to Zaborah as she followed the blonde Monomi through the halls of the Aerugan palace. Zaborah said nothing more, just occasionally peeked over her shoulder. A trace of nervous energy danced down Jade’s spine. This was completely out of character for her friend. And what would Zak think, when he came back to their room and found it empty?
Zaborah led Jade into a part of the palace that Jade had never been in––towering marble columns lined the hallway, the ceiling a long stretch of colorful mosaics. Every alcove had a pair of guards that saluted as they walked by, but none of the men seemed surprised at the sight of them.
Jade scratched an itch at her collarbone and sucked on her bottom lip as she took in a large stained-glass door looming in front of them. “Um, Zaborah? Where are we going?”
Zaborah stopped at the door and rested her hand on the gleaming handle. Her jaw set, yet eyes soft. “I recognize that you can be a l
eader as you are. And because of that”—she opened the door, and the heady scent of autumn flowers flowed into the hall—“I think you should go through.”
Jade stayed where she was, hands at her side, her gaze bouncing between Zaborah and the open door. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed nothing out of the ordinary, other than several of the guards watching them with faint grins. Jade moved toward the door, hesitant. “What’s going on? What are you planning?”
Genuine mirth lit Zaborah’s face this time. “Not my plan.” She pressed her hand between Jade’s shoulder blades, propelling her into the garden. “Now go.”
Jade stepped into a lush, private garden. Purple wisteria dangled from trellises overhead, and the scent of jasmine permeated the air. Half the flowers weren’t in season, and yet they bloomed with a vitality that spoke of a manipulator’s expert gardening care. Unease slowed her steps. This had to be Violet’s private garden.
“We’re allowed to be here.” Zak’s voice carried around the corner, and his hand waved from the other side of a bush blooming with pink small flowers. “Come on in.”
Zak was here? The unease instantly changed to a different type of nervousness. One that made her heart stutter and her hands tremble. She rounded the corner and stopped, her breath stalling in her lungs.
Zak. Resplendent in what she recognized as his formal dress blacks, armed still with his typical sword and daggers and weaponry, but a silver sash crossed over those, draped from shoulder to adjacent hip. His eyes sparkled at the wonder that had to be shining in her face.