Chapter 35
Valasca sprinted to the nearest Cloak. Thudding to her knees, she labored to slow her heart. Not a half pace away in the dirt, laid the sleeping demon. A prickle of fear squeezed her. Even this close, he looked like no man, but more a devil. The devil that reached up into that dark meadow, yanking her down into Hell. Long breaths growled from deep within his chest, rising and falling, slow and loud like a sleeping beast.
Reaching out, Valasca hovered a trembling hand over the black robe. Red droplets trickled her bruised fingers, soaking into his shroud. She froze, fearing the blood might rouse him. A silent moment passed. Swallowing, she tipped her fingers to the robe, slipping it open to expose the Cloak‘s chest. His pale skin appeared moist with fever and he smelled sour, like a long forgotten, damp cloth turned musty. And that same stench of rotten peaches hung on at the end. The brave clenched her lips tight, trying to hold her breath.
The Cloak chilled her skin. He more than doubled her in size. Thin. Lanky. Strange. His face seemed to nearly disappear into the void of his hood, like a dead man sinking into a black pond. At this, Valasca felt an unforeseen relief. Thank goddess the Cloak’s eyes were shut by slumber. The thought of his white and soulless stare revived her shivers. And these constant fears; they crept through her head like insects scurrying into her ear. What if he isn’t fully asleep? What if he is pretending? Waiting for the right moment to grab me-
Another low rumble shuddered the cavern, flinching Valasca out of her thoughts. Forcing her fingers on, she cringed at the feel of the Cloak’s clammy body, feeling more like she was handling a slimy dead fish than a man. Slinking her palm down the oily skin, she ran her fingertips the length of his torso, searching his blade. Her cheek grazed his soured chest, trembling her fingers but moving them that much faster down his thigh. And she tipped his dagger hilt.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she tightened her bruised fingers around the hilt, sliding the blade from its scabbard. She drew it out, hunching over the Cloak like a tiny sculpture, still as stone but for her arm methodically guiding the blade. As she eyed the lengthy dagger, bits of flesh appeared on its crimson edge. Valasca took in a sharp breath, remembering the dead boy’s mother.
The dagger pulled free. Breathing again, she crept the Cloak’s shroud open, fully exposing his chest. She lifted the blade. Her palms sweating. Shaking. She had never before killed a man. But this she had to do, and so swallowed her nerves into a burning tangle, pitting them in her stomach. Trying not to think on it. Closing her eyes, she took in a few breaths to get her nerve up. Ready… and-
She swung down with all her might. The cold steel punctured the Cloak’s gut, hilt deep. At the feel of hot blood spurting her hands, Valasca opened her eyes. The red blared up at her, hazing her mind, the stink of bile crawling onto her tongue.
The Cloak’s eyes abruptly flashed open, white and bulging. His mouth gaped open, hissing and straining, forming unknown words. Bony hands desperately fumbled at the hilt protruding his gut. Shocked and confused, the creature gazed up at Valasca, and for the first time, she sensed his humanity.
Unable to watch the man spitting up blood, the brave turned from him. Holding firm to the dagger, she struggled against the shuddering Cloak twisting and turning beneath her, his jerking tearing the blade deeper into his stomach.
After tormenting moments, Valasca felt the creature give up. He dropped limp. Peeking back down, she watched the last of his red life spill in the dust, turning to warm muddy paste at her knees. Keeping the blade tight, her palms slipped the sweaty hilt as she waited out his last breath. His white eyes went blank. He was gone from himself now, no life left, but the emptiness in his icy stare disturbed Valasca.
Pushing out the breath caught in her throat, the brave looked up to the Goddess, mumbling under her breath for strength. And the churning search began. Her blade cut in just below the man’s ribs, jutting out like a ghastly lever that would open up his insides. Taking hold of it, Valasca forced a crude slice down his stomach, and the slash was not an easy one. It mashed the hilt against her sore hands, sometimes cutting into the dirt below. After splitting his belly, she manipulated the blade out of the thick flesh.
The next stab went in under the left side of his ribs, severing across the underside of his ribcage. The rotting odor of bile came up heavier now, the sick stink hitting her like a warhorse in full gallop. Slow pumping. Warm blood pooled around her hands, making her dizzy. Holding her breath, the brave forced herself on, coaxing her hands into the man’s open gut.
Warm. Almost hot. And a faint pump of blood skirted her hands, his insides lumping around her fingers. And a sudden hot churn twisted her stomach, watering her mouth. Rushed with heat, her face burned like the cavern was on fire. A hot, rancid juice sped up her throat and she shifted, spewing the rot into the dirt. When the sickness relented, Valasca hung her head, wiping her lips, struggling for clean breath. Calming herself.
Lifting back into posture, she stared down on the bloody shell beneath her, and forced her hands steady. Slipping back under the rip of skin, she grazed passed the feel of organs and strange fleshy tubes. Pulling back, she took the dagger into her bloody palm, sliding it back into the stomach. Guiding it around the open gut, she hacked at the tubes and flesh sack they led to. Several minutes in, and with bruised hands throbbing, Valasca’s mouth went dry. It’s not here….
Chapter 36
Cloak to Cloak Valasca searched, the stink of blood spoiling in the back of her throat. Sorting the endless bodies, her fingers waded through the hot gore and the tangle of guts. The worst of it all, the remnants of human meat. Trying not to think, or breathe in, she ripped at the flesh, forcing back the gag nudging into her mouth.
Fear clenched her chest with every futile search. The key had not turned up. Valasca grew frantic the closer she neared the end of their number. She wiped the sweat from her upper lip, leaving the stench of bloody bile to assault her nostrils. Staring down at her empty, bloody hands, the painful lost feeling pierced back into her heart. No key, and only one Cloak remained.
Kneeling down before her last search, she unwrapped the last Cloak’s robe. Aiming the dagger point, she stabbed in. Deep. Shifting her gaze from the flash of white eyes, the brave watched the entrance, listening as the last man gurgled in his own blood. The moment he went limp, she pulled the dagger free. Cutting back into his body, she prayed to the goddess before beginning her last dissection. The key had to be in this man.
Reaching a throbbing hand into the warm twirl of red fluid, she hurried passed the slime of organs. After so many bodies, she knew the feel of the stomach. Holding her breath, she wiggled her fingers in deeper, straining clear of the stink as she kept a vigilant watch of the entrance.
“Faster, faster, faster….” Valasca ordered herself, scrambling anxious fingers. Her eyes switched back and forth. The blood. The entrance. The blood. The entrance. Everyone else she blocked out. Sifting the innards, she tore unwanted clumps from the body like a jaguar ripping into a child. Fast, detached and messy.
Her heart dropped into her stomach. "It’s…. It’s not here."
Cursing, she shredded both hands through the corpse, clawing into the stomach like it hid the key as a cruel joke. Ripping and slashing, she mangled the stomach bag, her anger clenching tighter and tighter in her chest. Speeding her heart into angry thumps. Another loud rumble shook the cavern. This time, Valasca didn’t flinch.
Resorting back to the long dagger, she butchered the lifeless body, splitting more pale skin. Bursting more blood to ooze the dirt at her knees into mud. She could see them with a sideways glance, the prisoners dropping their heads, giving up. Crying. Cursing. She could hear them.
"No! No! No!” She spat out the words. “It has to be here. There’s not one Cloak left. It has to be here!”
After another series of cuts and mutilation, blood strewn from her frustrated blade so high that the red drops stained her cheek. Valasca slumped back, defeated, gritty blood stinking on he
r hands. Her knees. Her face. She sat quiet. Feeling eyes on her again. Aware of them more now. They burned on her back, suffocating her with their disappointment. Filling her with burden. She felt full with it, like sand packed down inside her body, weighing her into the mud. Leaning back into a crouch, she stared up at the toothed ceiling, unable to look anywhere else. The eyes were everywhere else. And she prayed.
And as if answered by the goddess, Valasca felt prompted. She dropped her head, looking back into the mud, seeing nothing at first, but feeling encouraged to consider it. Scrutinize it. And the answer came.
"How?" The whisper slipped from her.
In the bloody mud, a crimson outline of a key stared up at her. Fearing it might disappear before she reached it, the brave snatched the key up. Looking back to the Cloak’s dead eyes, she shook her head.
“You never swallowed it, did you? It hid in your shroud the whole time.”
Fumbling with Laidea’s shackles, Valasca hands could barely keep up with her excited words.
"I’m sorry it took me so long but-”
“You found the key,” Laidea felt one of her tingling hands drop, “the rest doesn’t matter.”
“We’re going to get out of here!” Valasca said, her eyes wild as she manipulated the Commander’s last shackle.
Once Laidea's arms hung free, she rubbed them to summon the feeling back. Eying the dreaded entrance, she kept her thoughts private, hoping the fresh shift of Cloaks weren’t soon to arrive.
Valasca fumbled trembling hands over my locks, loosening both with a welcomed click. I shook my arms, relieving the prickle, then ran my palms through my sweaty hair. Palming my amulet as if it offered me protection, I eyed the aperture, my heart speeding thumps up my throat. If the Cloaks came back now, this would be all for nothing. I could barely stand my fearful thoughts, hundreds of them warning me of what could go wrong, galloping through my head like a legion of mounted soldiers.
Looking to Laidea for instruction, I watched as she ripped the key out of Valasca’s hand, giving the brave a push.
“Valasca, I have a message for you to deliver, then you must get to the tunnels. I will do what needs to be done here.”
“Yes, Commander.”
Laidea dipped down to the brave’s ear, mumbling words I couldn’t make out, and at that, Valasca sprinted off. The Commander pulled back up into posture, turning to me.
“Askca, why are you still here? Get to the tunnel. Now.”
“What about you?”
“I’ve got to get our people first.” Laidea’s eyes grew impatient as I waited, unmoved. “What I don’t have is time to argue with you.”
I stood there wringing my hands, not wanting to leave Laidea, but I knew she would have nothing of my opinions, especially not right now. I couldn’t stand the thought of our being separated again, not after those endless hours in the meadow, but I held my tongue. If any of us would make it out of this place alive, it would be Commander Laidea. I should just do as she said, believing we will meet back up on the outside.
Moreover, my mind was straying elsewhere. Glancing across the cavern to Saratiese, I found the girl‘s blue gaze already on me. I turned to Laidea.
“Yes,” she cut me off, reading my mind, “go to her!”
Chapter 37
“She’s freeing the braves first, the warriors next.” Valasca looked up at Hippolyta, still bound by her shackles. “The prisoners last.”
Hippolyta took a burdened breath. “She’ll never have time for all these people.”
“She said you’d say that.”
“Of course she said I’d say that.”
“She also said to tell you that she doesn’t have time to argue.”
Hippolyta shrugged, watching her friend scurry from brave to brave across the cavern. “So what does she want me to do?”
Valasca swallowed. “Lead us through the tunnel.”
I hurried around the scatter of fallen Cloaks, sprinting across the cavern. A growing number of braves raced passed me on their way to the tunnel. I rushed up to Saratiese, out of breath.
“Hey….”
“Oh gods!” She blurted out, her cheeks flushing as if she‘d done the running. “We’re going to make it out!”
“I think so.” I slowed my breath, flitting my gaze back and forth between Saratiese and Laidea.
“Askca, I thought you were dead. Before they me brought in, I thought-”
“I know.” I cut in, hugging her. “Me too.”
Unable to return our embrace, Saratiese burrowed her face into my shoulder. For a moment, every bad memory from the past cycle disappeared and we were us once again. After a few pats, I backed up from her, glancing to where the Commander labored a hundred paces away.
“Is Valasca alright?” Saratiese questioned.
I brought my eyes back. “For now. I think her thumbs are broken. Saratiese….”
“Yeah?”
I dropped my eyes, all at once embarrassed and unable to face her. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Everything. This past cycle… everything.” She smiled and I felt the tension in my shoulders loosen.
“I haven’t been the most-”
“It doesn’t matter.” I stopped her.
“No. I guess it doesn’t.”
I could see in Saratiese’s face, the weight of the past lifting. Allowing her to breathe again. Allowing me to breathe again. We held the warm gaze, and somehow in this underground, this cursed place, I knew I’d done it. I’d finally forgiven her. I didn’t know how, but the pain drifted away from me like a boat drifting off on distant ripples.
Saratiese blew at a wisp of hair resting in her eyes, but the hair settled back across her cheek.
“Here.” I swept the lock back, manipulating it behind her ear.
Just then, Hippolyta ran up. “Askca. Come with me. Laidea wants you out of the cavern. Now.”
“I can’t. Not yet.”
Hippolyta glanced to Saratiese, a look of knowing on her face, and let out a apprehensive sigh. “Alright. Against my better judgment, but alright. But know, you’re pushing it with the Commander.”
“I know, I know.” I stammered. “But you understand, right Hippolyta?”
The warrior appeared to be taken aback by my comment, like I could read her secret on her face, but relented quickly.
“Yeah…” she gave in, “I understand. But you two better get out of here the moment Sara is loose.”
Saratiese gave the woman a reassuring nod. “We will.”
“Thanks, Hippolyta.” I offered.
“Yeah, well….” The woman said, her words skeptical, and with that, she sprinted off.
“You should go.” Saratiese said.
“Not without you.” I shook my head. “Not this time.”
Kelius ran up holding Tillliandre’s hand. Lathenia, Valasca, and Belsiphiny followed close behind.
“Saratiese.” Kelius stopped to catch her breath. “Laidea is coming for you next. She’s with Malaia now.”
Saratiese nodded.
“We’re meeting Hippolyta in the tunnel.” Valasca looked up to me. “We’ll wait for you there.”
“Don’t wait.” I said. “Just go.”
“But-”
“We’ll be alright.” Saratiese assured the girl.
Valasca nodded reluctantly, Belsiphiny pulling at her arm.
“Good luck.” Kelius said, retreating with the braves.
“Valasca!” Saratiese called after them. The brave turned back. “Thanks.”
Valasca smiled, then turned at Belsiphiny‘s urging.
Not a moment later Laidea darted up with Malaia, the warrior’s younger sister, Kia-Maie, in tow. The Commander looked at me, and I could tell by her sigh she wasn’t happy to see me still in the cavern. But she didn’t address it, instead going to work on Saratiese‘s shackles. Malaia took hold of Kia-Maie’s hand, looking to the Commander.
“I’ll get Kia to the tunnel.”
The Commander nodded without looking up, and Malaia hastened off with the young brave. Saratiese’s first shackle clicked, dropping one hand free. Laidea looked back to the mouth for Cloaks, and then stabbed into the second lock. A second later, Saratiese stood free.
Laidea glared at me. “Go.”
“Aren’t you coming?” I questioned. The look on the Commander’s face told me not only that she wasn‘t, but that she was annoyed I‘d even asked.
“There are more people to free. Go.” She went onto the next set of locks.
“But, I thought-”
Laidea whipped around, her jaw clenched so tight I could feel it. “Saratiese, get her out of here.”
“Yes, Commander.” Saratiese took me by the arm. “Askca, let‘s go.”
I stood my place. I knew I shouldn’t speak. I knew Laidea wouldn’t listen, and most of all I knew there was no time, but I couldn’t let her stay and unlock every single prisoner. She’d never make it.
“You won’t make it out of here if you do this.”
“I’m your Commander.” Laidea went on with her task, jangling at another lock. “I’m ordering you. Go.”
Saratiese tugged at my arm again, and I begrudgingly gave in. I stared back at Laidea for a moment, watching as she moved onto the next child waiting at the wall. I prayed that wouldn’t be my last image of her, my last memory, but if it was, it was befitting.
Saratiese pulled on my hand until we reached the hidden tunnel. As soon as we were inside, I felt a push of people flooding in behind us. The tunnel cramped so narrow and black that I couldn’t see a pace in front of me. I stood behind Saratiese, clinging to the girl’s leather crop as we jumbled into a long line of strangers, shoving through the constricting tunnel.
I fought to keep my balance, my arms and legs scraping against the walls as Saratiese and I stumbled through the tight, hot mesh of bodies. The tunnel closed the dark in so stringent, that I felt like I was being buried alive, swallowed up in a jostle of panicked people and choking dust. More people crammed in behind us. I clenched a tighter handful of Saratiese’s leather crop, my own chest heaving for breath as my wound stung under the burden of such pressing weight.
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