by Lori M. Lee
CHAPTER 24
IN THE MORNING, we gathered our things and met Mason at the front entrance.
Like the day we arrived, the dense fog was a physical presence. The smoky gray wrapped around our legs and crawled up our sleeves. High above, the obscure shapes of the gargoyles hopped along their rocky perches as they patrolled. My fear of them felt distant. I was stronger than that now.
Mason waited at the base of the bridge with Hina, who would be joining us on the trek back to Ninurta. She had her long red braid coiled into a tight bun. Beside them on the black earth were two Grays, one of which I recognized. It was the Gray we’d crashed. A seam scarred the neck where the metal had been welded together. Several other metal sheets along its body had been replaced.
“Surprise!” Mason said, patting our Gray’s head. “We made some cosmetic repairs and replaced the energy stone with a more efficient one. I improved on your modifications as well. She’s as good as new. Even better.”
Avan looked genuinely pleased. He mounted the Gray, flexing his hands on the grip. Then he tugged a lever along the neck. The Gray’s chest lit up, and the metal rippled to life, much more smoothly than the first time we’d ridden it.
“Nice,” he said. “Thank you.” His gaze felt heavy when it fell on me. “Riding with me or Mason?”
I dropped my bag into the compartment on top of Avan’s and pulled myself into the saddle without his help. Pressed thigh to thigh and chest to back, I could feel the moment he exhaled.
“What about the gargoyles in the Outlands?” I asked Mason. “They aren’t exactly as well behaved as the guards here.”
“We’ve had a few skirmishes in the past, and I think they know we’re not easy prey. They’ve learned to leave us alone.”
Mason and Hina, who flashed me an encouraging grin, mounted the other Gray, which looked like a mix between an enormous dog and a bear. My hands gripped Avan’s hips as our Gray gave a jarring shimmy and stomped its feet. The metal shifted beneath me. This was it.
I’m coming, Reev.
We followed Mason over the bridge. It didn’t feel as long as it had on foot.
Above us, the gargoyles leaned forward on their lampposts, their claws scraping the rusted metal as they watched us pass. On impulse, I waved. They didn’t respond.
After we crossed into the Void, the fog thinned. I looked behind us. The fog consumed the bridge and dissipated in the dry air until nothing was left but the black stretch of dead earth. I understood now why Ninu couldn’t find Irra’s fortress.
The Grays lifted a trail of billowing dust as we raced across the Void. Avan pulled up alongside Mason to avoid choking on dirt. Judging by its speed, Mason’s Gray must’ve had the same kind of modifications as ours. We would be out of the Void in a few hours. I was happy not to have to spend the night here.
The bleak emptiness reminded me of how I’d felt standing at the fringe of Etu Gahl. The familiarity was probably why Irra had chosen this place to hide.
My hands tightened at Avan’s hips. He turned his head.
“It’s weird,” he said, “how we can still feel the aftermath of what happened here.”
“Do you think this is how everyone felt after the war?”
“It’s no wonder Ninu took advantage. People would have been desperate for leadership.”
I rested my head against his shoulder. I must have dozed, because Avan’s shouts woke me. I peered over his shoulder to where Mason pointed. The border of the Void ended at vivid green underbrush and tall trees. I blinked and scanned the forest line. The trees were within reach, but Mason and Avan showed no signs of slowing down.
“How are we getting through?” I asked.
“We trust Mason,” Avan said just as the other Gray veered to the right.
Mason aimed for a gap between the trees. I held my breath, but there was no clamor of metal scraping bark, only the whisper of air through the leaves as the Gray passed through. Avan lowered himself over our Gray’s neck and followed suit.
We fit perfectly through the gap. I dared to look up. Mason led us through the trees, weaving in a precisely executed pattern. I eased my grip on Avan.
Some gaps were so narrow that leaves and twigs snagged my hair. I had tied it back but realized now why Hina had chosen a tightly wound braid.
The temperature had risen since we entered the forest. I drew a deep breath of the humid air. The weight of it was welcome after the emptiness of the Void. Seeing the colors here, everything else paled in comparison. Even Mason’s rug and the drapes in the hospital wing lacked the same sort of life.
Watching Mason and Avan dodge trees made me nervous, so I pressed my forehead to Avan’s back. I trusted him to stay close to Mason and get us through. We traveled slower now. The trees grew closer together here.
Moisture gathered where my body met Avan’s. I blew at the hair sticking to my cheek and thought how unfair it was that even the back of Avan’s neck looked attractive.
Judging by the drops that scattered over us as we passed, it had rained recently. I wished it would rain now. The longer we were in the forest, the less bearable the humidity became.
I kept my head down and tried not to squirm too much even though my leg had fallen asleep. I didn’t want to distract Avan. I wasn’t looking for another crash landing.
After a couple of hours, I was panting as if I’d been running from gargoyles. Avan breathed a little heavier than normal, but his heartbeat remained steady against my hand. Finally, Avan nudged me with his elbow, and I looked over to see Mason pointing ahead.
The trees had gone from lush and green to brown and brittle. Bright light filtered through the branches. We hit a wall of dry heat as we broke through the forest, leaving the humid, leafy maze behind. We picked up speed, the Grays’ legs blurring across the earth. I pictured the prostitute’s map in my head and mentally tracked our progress. I would have offered the map, which was currently squashed at the bottom of my bag, to Mason; but he seemed to know where he was going.
I dug into my bag to find the large package of food that Rennard had left outside our doors this morning. It included everything from bread and cheese to leftover cake from last night. I wish I’d had time to thank him. With the steady meals and Mason’s training, I felt stronger physically than I ever had in Ninurta.
I picked up a roll of sweet bread stuffed with cream. I offered half of it to Avan.
His fingers brushed mine as he reached for it. “Thanks.”
The bread had hardened a bit, but it still tasted delicious. I downed it with a few gulps of water and then let Avan finish the canteen.
After putting away the empty water container, I pressed a tentative hand against his chest. My other hand skimmed over his ribs to rest on his stomach.
I curled my fingers against his shirt, his heartbeat strong against my palm. I closed my eyes, finding comfort in the way his breath grew shallow at my touch. By now, I had memorized the feel of his back: the shift of muscle, the slope of his shoulder blades, the curve of his spine.
I craned forward in the saddle, my arms tight around his torso, until my lips grazed his ear. “I’m sorry. For last night. I was wrong to assume anything.”
I wasn’t sure if he’d respond. But then he turned his head so that my lips skimmed his cheek.
“I don’t blame you for making assumptions,” he said. “Besides, I should apologize, too. I didn’t know what to think when you weren’t asleep in my room.”
“You thought I was with someone?” I couldn’t help feeling the slightest bit insulted. But also a little flattered.
“The thought did cross my mind, even though I knew better.”
I eased back so I could rest my cheek against the line of his shoulder. “I should have known better, too. I just figured I shouldn’t … get in your way.”
He surprised me by laughing. I felt the rumble against my chest and my hands, but it was so quiet that the wind stole the sound.
“Your consideration is a little mispl
aced,” he said. “You should get some rest. I’ll make sure you don’t fall.”
I bit my lip. “I’m not tired.”
He glanced at me. Then he covered my hand on his chest, thumb smoothing over my wrist before he laced his fingers with mine.
CHAPTER 25
DAYLIGHT WAS FADING fast by the time Ninurta’s walls came into view. Mason stopped us behind an outcropping to wait until complete darkness before we approached. Seeing the wall twisted my insides into anxious knots. I had thought, maybe, coming back would feel like coming home, if for no other reason than because Reev was there. But instead, all that greeted me was a prison.
A few gargoyles had spotted us along the way, but they had merely glanced in our direction before carrying on. Was Ninu aware of how intelligent the creatures he’d released into the Outlands were? Even without hollows, Irra could build a formidable army out of the gargoyles. Maybe there weren’t enough of them to do that.
We shut off our Grays, and Mason dismounted. He consulted a map that he drew from beneath the knife sheath strapped around his thigh. Hina went about replacing the energy stones on both the Grays.
“Since you won’t need it once you get into the tunnels,” Hina said, peering into our Gray’s chest, “you’ll have to leave this one out here. Mason will ride it to Etu Gahl when he returns.”
“You’re not coming with us?” I asked her.
“I only came this far to make sure the gargoyles didn’t get bold. They leave hollows alone, but you two probably wouldn’t scare them. Mason will guide you the rest of the way.”
After she finished replacing our energy stone, she switched it back on so we’d have the light to see by. The Gray provided the only light source aside from the distant glow of torches along Ninurta’s walls.
Before leaving, she pulled me into a hug. I found myself hugging back. We hadn’t spent much time together outside of meals and sparring, but aside from Avan, she and Mason were the closest thing I’d had to friends in a long time.
“Thanks,” I said, “for your protection. And for making the Void feel … not so lonely.”
She playfully punched my shoulder. “Stop trying to tell me good-bye. I’ll see you when this is over.”
I smiled gratefully. “Yeah.”
With a final wave, she jumped onto the other Gray and rode off. Her red light faded into the darkness.
Mason, who hadn’t bothered saying good-bye to Hina, studied the map, turning his head left and right as he oriented himself.
Avan sat nearby, eating a handful of dried fruit, as I watched over Mason’s shoulder. Unlike the prostitute’s map, Mason’s was in good condition, but it didn’t show much beyond the familiar boundaries of Ninurta. Mason pointed to a spot on the map outside the walls, above a series of zigzagging lines. “This is where we’ll enter.”
“The sewers.” So that’s what Hina had meant by “tunnels.” Neither Mason nor Irra had given us details about how they planned to get us into the city. “But they’re patrolled. And there are locked gates,” I added.
“I’ve arranged for someone to meet us inside to unlock the gates,” Mason said. “And our source was able to supply the patrol route. I memorized it.”
“It still sounds risky.”
“I know.” He grinned. “Most excitement I’ve had in two months. Ninu’s reconnaissance teams have pulled back and left us with nothing to do.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying this.”
He looked at the map. “We’ll go the rest of the way by foot. It’s not far.”
We grabbed our bags and switched off the Gray, leaving it in the dark. I hoped Mason would be able to find his way back here.
Strong fingers grasped my hand. Warmth shot up my arm and through my chest. But instead of Avan’s voice, Mason’s said, “To keep you from wandering off.”
Flustered, I didn’t say anything as I reached out and felt for Avan’s hand as well. I touched his stomach first, then he took my hand in his, squeezing lightly.
“Can you see?” Avan asked Mason. The darkness felt less oppressive with the two of them on either side of me, but it was still pitch-black.
“Yes,” Mason said without further explanation. Maybe the collar improved his night vision.
We walked for about ten minutes. Even after my eyes adjusted to the dark, it was unnerving being able to see only a few feet of dirt and black shapes. It didn’t help that the only sound was our footsteps—mine and Avan’s, because Mason had the eerie ability to move without sound. Mason pressed my hand when we reached another outcropping, and we stopped.
Mason released me and knelt in the dry earth. I heard a click. He grabbed something and yanked roughly. Dirt cracked and skidded off the lid of a manhole cover as he raised it from the ground. It sounded like a rockslide in the silence. I looked around uneasily. What if the sound attracted gargoyles?
Avan and I knelt around the opening as Mason descended into the sewer. All I could see was the uppermost rung of a disintegrating metal ladder. A moment later, Mason called for us to follow him down.
With a glance at Avan, I went first.
Rust along the ladder’s rungs dug into my palms. I couldn’t see where to put my hands and feet. When my foot finally hit solid ground, I eased off the ladder, brushing my hands against my pants, and retreated a few steps to allow Avan room. Light burst through the darkness. I shielded my eyes. Had we been caught already?
But it was just Mason. The light was coming from his arm, bright enough to illuminate the tunnel. I shuffled forward, blinking.
“What is that?” I asked, looking at his arm brace. It was made of metal, darkened to a dull finish that wouldn’t reflect the light. A few buttons lined the seam alongside some roughly cut details.
“I’m not sure. It’s Irra’s creation.” Mason aimed the light into the space in front of us. “Better than a lantern.”
The light revealed a walkway that ran along the side of the tunnel. The sewage pit in the middle had long since dried up. Didn’t smell that way, though. I wrinkled my nose.
Two passages branched ahead; the left side had collapsed, blocked by crumbled stone and distorted metal.
Avan dropped down beside me, and Mason gestured for us to follow with a twitch of his head.
“We’re still a ways from the wall, but Ninu keeps the sewers patrolled for a couple of miles out,” Mason said. “They’ll have passed by this area already. We should be safe. I don’t think the gargoyles have found their way down here yet.”
“You don’t think?” I asked.
I could hear his grin as he said, “I’ve learned not to underestimate them.”
“Fantastic,” I muttered.
“There are a lot of unused sewer passages in Ninurta,” Mason continued. “Most of them are left from before Rebirth. They still patrol the unused ones as well, but most are caved in. That’s why we can’t use them to sneak an army inside. Too unstable.”
“This just gets better and better,” I said. How pathetic would it be if I died in the sewer before I ever got to Reev?
Mason chuckled. “Step lightly.”
I tried to do as he said.
We walked along, every sound making the fine hairs on the backs of my arms stand on end. At least in the Outlands, we were in the open. Here, aged stone surrounded us on all sides, reinforced only by metal liable to collapse at any time. After a while, Mason’s light fell on a gate and an ancient-looking padlock on the other side. Mason tapped the metal gate three times and then switched off his light.
We waited in the dark for several long minutes until clumsy footsteps approached on the other side. Someone responded with three knocks. Then I heard shuffling feet, a mumbled curse, and a screech of metal as the lock turned. Mason switched his light back on. DJ was peering at us through the open gate.
I shouldn’t have been surprised. DJ had said he was the Rider’s gatekeeper.
DJ looked us over. “You two still human?”
“Define ‘human,’” A
van said.
DJ rolled his eyes. “Wasn’t expecting to see you again. How the drek did you get to the Rider and back in one piece?”
He stepped aside so that we could pass through. Then he pulled the gate shut and locked it behind us.
“You were wrong,” Avan said as we followed DJ through more tunnels. The smell grew damper, moldier, and more bitter. “You said the Rider kidnapped people and turned them into hollows against their will.”
“Hey,” DJ said, his voice uncomfortably loud. “I tell you what I’m told to say, and it still got you there all right. Anyway, Mr. Hollow over there isn’t proving me wrong.”
Mason smiled—not his usual smile but a fake, vacant version. “Lead us forward,” he said in a monotone.
When DJ turned away with a shudder, Mason’s smile cracked into a real one, and he winked at me. I almost laughed.
According to Mason’s map, we stood directly under the Labyrinth—which explained the familiar smell—following an outside route to the White Court. The tunnels here were in worse shape than the Labyrinth above. We wedged through caved-in passages, making our way around the active sewage pipes, and had to travel in the dark for stretches when we drew too close to a patrolling Watchman. A few times, the entire passage quaked as a heavy Gray passed overhead, and we flattened ourselves against the wall to avoid any loose debris. I wasn’t claustrophobic, but I had begun to change my mind about this by the time we reached another locked gate.
“This one leads into the White Court. I don’t know what business you two got in there, but good luck. You’ll need it here even more than in the Outlands.” DJ jabbed his thumb in Mason’s direction as he turned away. “He’ll take you in.”
This would be the farthest I’d ever been inside the White Court. Somewhere up there is Reev.
The sewers here were noticeably different. The dampness and the odors remained, but the tunnels were sturdier. They must have been reinforced sometime in the last century.
We walked for another ten minutes before Mason abruptly killed the light. His hand gripped my shoulder and pushed me up against the wall. I heard Avan hit the stone beside me. Mason leaned in, pinning us both with a whispered “Quiet.”