by Debra Kristi
Keeping to a walk in the center of the road, I follow the path that brought us here. Without the car as a barrier, the dark warehouses on either side are creepy. When the wind howls and the buildings creak, I’m edgy. I want to move faster. If only finding traction in these shoes were easier. My progress is slow, slipping and sliding on the gravel.
The night sky darkens, and the temperature drops. With each passing minute, it gets harder to see. My gut tightens, and my progress wavers. I stare forward, study the change, glance back to where I left Ry, then look left to a long road leading to another gate conveniently left open.
Out of the dark bursts a commanding roar. Its power pricks chills across my skin, and I startle. A dark shadow shifts through the black, moves straight for me, fast and low to the ground. I turn and sprint, immediately slipping and falling in my damn flats. Ripping the shoes off and tossing them aside, I pick myself up and haul ass. I run with everything I have away from my pursuer toward the gate down the hill.
Tiny pebbles cut into my feet, but I keep moving. Whatever is coming, it’s faster than me. The space is closing much too fast. Any minute it will be upon me, in tackling range. A hulky object pushes against me, and I stumble, slowing my speed.
“You must hurry, kin. Get on and hold tight.” The voice rushes through my head.
“Caesar?”
“Yes, child. Come now.”
Without question I grab a fold of his thick fur, swing my leg over his back, and wrap my arms firmly around his neck. Pressed against Caesar’s commanding strength, I feel safe. The warm musk of his essence embraces me. He turns and starts back toward Ry and the car.
Great. “Caesar, why are you here?” I sputter between gallops.
“I felt you near. Knew you were in danger. You mustn’t stay. It’s not safe for you here. They are coming.”
“Who’s coming? The shadows?”
“The dark ones. The feared ones. They took Aldo and are now after Crystia’s kin. They are extremely powerful and dangerous.”
“Thanks you for the warning. You know, we could be friends.” I speak quietly, almost afraid to say the words. “Like you and Crystia were. You could call me by my name.”
He chuffs, and it sounds like a large sneeze. It’s followed only by the sounds of his breathing. He runs for several strides before speaking again. “Yes, you are good, Ana, kin of Crystia. You will do good things if you follow what is inside. Great power is at your paws. Make sure you choose wisely in how you use that power. I shall be your friend.”
I look behind us. The horizon is fading to black. Like running paint, it slowly shifts, turning in our direction. What Caesar calls the dark ones look like the shadows from my house, only in larger force. We pass through the buildings, and I feel we’re being watched. Goosebumps explode over my skin. I search the buildings as we go by, looking for something—anything—but there is nothing. Only a growing darkness shifting and changing along the walls and windows.
I press closer to Caesar. “Are these shadows what you call the dark ones?”
“No, they are what came before. Not shadows, echoes. Echoes of what once was. Dark echoes.”
Ice runs down my spine and rushes through my veins. I shiver uncontrollably and cling tighter to Caesar.
Caesar runs into the crater where the car is parked and comes to a screeching halt. “Here. You must get the warrior and leave this place quickly. If this is not your exit to the other world, then stay no longer. I will guard the entrance for as long as I can. Make haste.”
“I don’t know where my warrior is. I don’t even know where to start.”
“He has gone into the mountain through the hole in the side. Look for it in the mountain wall.”
I need to find Ry and get the hell out of here, make him take me back to Mom. If I have to, I’ll use my rank control on him. With no time to waste, I run back to the car, pop open the glove compartment, and grab the flashlight. I’ll need it to find Ry in this mineshaft. As I hop out of the car, a thought occurs to me. Leaning back in, I switch on the headlights, illuminating the area in front of me. I don’t see a mine entrance. What I do see are deeper shadows in an intriguing shape to the right. Might be a good place to start. Flashlight in hand, I head in that direction.
Sure enough, there’s a doorway framed with wooden supports carved in the mountainside. An old mine entrance. Footprints in the dirt suggest I’m on the right track. A tight hole in the mountain on a black night, and within a matter of steps it turns darker than onyx. There is no sound, yet every noise I make is somehow amplified. Moving slowly and cautiously forward, I call out Ry’s name, speaking barely above a whisper. No response. For all I know, the tunnels in this mineshaft could go on for miles. I could get lost, be forever trapped in a dark hole within the mountainside. My heart thumps a sharp, painful beat, and then takes off like Caesar’s incredible run.
One foot in front of the other, and forward I go. He’s down here somewhere, I feel it. My gut makes the decisions, leading me down paths, making choices at each fork. It feels like a lifetime has passed, but I’ve probably only been stumbling around down here for fifteen minutes. Anxiety over things I can’t control and can’t do a damn thing about keeps kicking up to the front of my thoughts. Caesar. The dark ones. And Mom! I need to get back to her. Fear and frustration slows time. I try to shove it all down, stay focused on Ry. Find Ry first. Then everything else.
I stopped calling for Ry some time ago. Seemed pointless. He wasn’t answering, and he’s probably much farther down in the tunnels than I’ve yet traveled. I tried to figure how far I’ve traveled, taking duration and pace into consideration, but math was never my best subject, and my calculations seemed faulty. So I’m going with the deduction I won’t catch up ‘til I reach the end, whatever or wherever that is.
I wish I’d brought Jaden’s jacket and rub my arms for warmth. This particular stretch has been one windy tube of cold stone. I’m ready for it to end. My flashlight gleams off the chiseled rock walls, searching. For the first time, the cavern doesn’t show me a direction to turn. No tunnel to the left, no tunnel right. I’ve come to a dead end. My heart drops, and my entire body feels ten pounds heavier.
But then I see something and take a step closer. The stone looks freshly broken, like a cave-in, not carved like the rest of the walls. Moving to the rubble, I investigate more closely. What if Ry is on the other side?
A low shuffle resonates through the tunnel, startling me.
I shift my attention, shine my light toward the noise, and see something there with me in the darkness. My heart hammers against my ribs. Fear is normal, I tell myself. It is how I act upon this situation that defines me. I move forward enough to light the area better. Five shaky steps, and my weak lamp highlights the figure hunkered in the dark.
“Ry?” I say, barely a whisper.
Tension rules his features and suggest an internal struggle. The steady pulsing of his temple. The muscles in his arms and neck strained and bulging. Hands clenched tight into fists, shaking ever so slightly. I want to help him, but I’m afraid if I touch him, he’ll explode. He looks at me, eyes burning, and bears his teeth. In that moment he looks more animal than human. His fist slams into the ground, breaking the dirt and gravel. He slowly stands, turning his back to me. The muscles across his shoulders strain to the breaking point. Anger, frustration, I don’t know what it is, but something has Ry smashing his fist into the rock wall in front of him.
I cover my face to protect against the spray of small pebbles, then grab for his fist. The skin is torn, and his knuckles are bloody. “Ry! What is it? What’s happened?”
“You see this?” He points down.
Running like a vein across the tunnel is a scorched area of earth. I’m not sure exactly what it means or what I’m looking at, but my bones suddenly feel heavier.
Ry crumples in on himself and gazes off to another place. A place I can’t see. “I don’t understand why she did this.”
“Who, Ry? Who d
id what?”
He extends his left hand, revealing a crumpled brown bag. The bag drops, falling into my grasp. Perplexed, I flatten it out, immediately recognizing it as similar to the one I placed in the floral refrigerator a few days ago.
“Joanna?” I say, desperately trying to connect the dots.
“Not Joanna. Your mom.” He lifts his head to meet my gaze. Something burns with incredible intensity beneath his facade.
Conversations with my mom, her whispers about mistakes, leap to the forefront of my mind. I wonder if she meant whatever Ry is accusing her of here. Unsure how to react, I try not to show emotion one way or the other. Ry is watching, probably waiting for some sort of melodrama. Not tonight. I will keep it in check, cling to my practical side like a life preserver.
Ry’s head snaps, and he stares, drawn to something farther down the tunnel. I turn, both curious and worried about what he’s seen or heard. The sound of soft padding, something making its way toward us, soon reaches my ears. Only darkness meets my gaze. The familiar slide of steel against leather comes from behind me, and I turn to see Ry readying himself for battle. My instincts whisper, shadows are not coming. Gently I run my hand along his arm, trying to relax his hold on the sword. His arm pushes against mine, pushes my attempt away. I refuse to back down and hold steady, wait. When our gazes finally meet, a change sweeps over him so fast it’s alarming. He relaxes his stance, bows his head, and takes a step back.
Together, we face whatever’s coming. Yellow eyes illuminate the dark. Heavy, even breaths near. I know Caesar is the creature coming through the dark.
“You are still here. Not your way out, after all?” The big cat moves into full view, slowing to a sluggish step.
“Nope. It doesn’t look that way,” I say.
Ry raises a brow, unable to hear Caesar like I can.
“Caesar, Ry. Ry, Caesar.” I wave my hand between them, introducing them as if this were a normal meeting.
Ry nods to the cat. Caesar sneezes in return.
He struts to the charred vein in the stone and sniffs, nudging the bag with his nose. Looking at Ry, he speaks to me. “Tell your warrior, she may be a warrior by birth, but she is a mother first. That is the answer he seeks.”
“You got all that from one sniff?”
“Tell him.” Caesar turns to me.
Ry is watching me with great interest. He tilts his head toward the cat. He’s waiting. Knows I have something to say. I huff a laugh and relay the message.
“Hmm.” Ryland’s head dips, and understanding softens his features. “Okay, but her conflict of loyalties doesn’t make our situation any less difficult. If Nerine wanted this passageway sealed, then it’s done. We need to find another way home.”
“Why don’t we talk to my mom? She’ll probably know what to do. Something tells me she’s had a change of heart since she sabotaged this space.” I bite my lip.
He looks at me so hard I feel bruises surfacing. “You think she’d help you get to Hiddenkel after blocking your way home?” He shakes his head. “She doesn’t want you to go back, Ana. She wants to keep you here, where she thinks you’re safe.”
“I think she did this before we had our talk the other day. I bet she feels differently now.”
Ry shrugs a shoulder into the tilt of his head. “Maybe so, but that’s a chance I’m not willing to take. She can meet up with us on the other side, for all I care.”
First Crystia. Now Mom. I’m suddenly itchy, immersed in the need to move. Burdened with the knowledge Hiddenkel holds the answer to finding everyone I love. “Then tell me, how do we get there?”
“Talk later,” Caesar says. “We must move. I was unable to hold them. They entered the circle. They’re probably on their way here as we speak. We will need to fight our way out.” The words send my heart into a frenzy, despite Caesar’s calm.
My face must give away my alarm, because Ry doesn’t wait for me to relay Caesar’s words. “What is it?” he asks, urgency weaving through every syllable.
“Caesar says those echo things are coming down the tunnel.”
Ry becomes completely focused. He tethers his sword and pulls two wands I’ve never seen before free. He holds one in each hand, raises them to the air, and whips them toward the ground with lightning speed. They spark and flicker in a dazzling blue light, and I catch my breath at the magical sight.
“Let’s do this.” Ry looks to Caesar and me. “Ana, I can move incredibly fast. Faster than you’ve ever witnessed. How fast can Caesar move?”
“He can keep up.”
“Will he allow you to ride on his back?”
Based on our history, it’s a question that probably doesn’t need to be asked, but I glance to Caesar anyway. He flips his head, indicating I should climb on.
“I’d take that as a yes,” I say.
“Good. Let’s get out of here fast. Don’t stop for anything. I’ll take the dark. Caesar, you get her to the car. She’ll be safe there.”
“But I can help.”
“Not yet, Ana. You’ll be ready soon, but not for this, not now.” His response stings, and I flinch. His face softens. “Hey, don’t be like that. You’re going to kick some serious ass real soon. You’ll probably kick mine. But this is something you haven’t been trained for, so let me handle it.”
I know he’s right. Doesn’t mean I have to like it. Breaking our stare, I blink, slump my shoulders, and turn toward Caesar.
Ry grabs my hand, demanding my attention. “I promise.”
I straighten and stand tall. “I know.”
I climb on Caesar’s back and hold tight. We take off at unbelievable speed. I see Ry with new eyes, as the warrior Mom said he is. Maybe I’m beginning to understand now.
We fly through the tunnels. I can move fast, but this speed is beyond my ability. The air whizzes by, stinging my skin. The tighter rock tunnels press in on me as we pass through, and the larger, more open passages of compressed dirt relieve some of my tension, making it easier to breathe. We climb out of the mine in a fraction of the time it took for me to descend it. We curve left, then right, then right again, through the maze to the surface.
The heaving of Caesar’s massive strides consumes everything I hear. We run through the cavern, ascend higher, and out of the darkness creeps the sound of running water. A sound I don’t recall from my earlier trip down. Ry snaps the wands, accelerates. I wouldn’t have believed more speed was possible, had I not seen it with my own eyes.
I strain to see the space ahead, only able to make out darkness upon darkness, seeping across the walls, devouring everything as it bleeds in our direction. I imagine myself trapped in a well of ink, sinking forever in a vat of nothingness. An eternity of oblivion. I cling to Caesar with a stranglehold. Part of me wants to clamp my eyes shut, while the rest doesn’t want to miss a single minute.
Down the tunnel, the light of Ry’s wands reflects off the cavern walls in a mellow, eerie glow, before disappearing into the void of pitch-black. When he reaches the outstretched fingers of the slithering darkness, he breaks into the most magnificent choreography. I catch my breath and watch the warrior I’ve been working to become. Ry spins to his left, swings one wand over his head, and strikes the roof in a wide arc. He drags the other wand around his body and slaps them both into the far left wall. Blue sparks explode, filling the chamber. The darkness recedes.
No hesitation. Ry’s arms shoot out in perfect form, directing his body diagonally across the tunnel. The wands swing up and around in a huge circle, bright light emerging. More dark echo-matter slithers away. Hitting the far wall with his foot, he climbs the rock at full speed. Practically runs all the way to the ceiling, before flipping to the floor and landing with the wands sparking off the ground. He never stops. Never wavers. Just keeps moving at incredible speed down the mineshaft.
He spins, sparks, climbs, and flips the entire way. The breadth and height of the compressed dirt tunnels allow what the narrower stone passages will not. Hit, spark, slither
away, repeat. All of my training has me itching to join the battle.
Fresh air wisps across my face, and the tunnels fall away. We break free into the open night—and into darkness. It’s all-consuming. Dripping down out of the sky like clouds of tar. And there are no longer walls for Ry to play off of. His feet shift swiftly, purposefully, and his arms strike out in every direction. It looks as if he’s hitting nothing, yet the light sparks, splintering fingers of blue and green, marking each blow, like watching an electrical storm move through the dry desert terrain.
Spying a gap, Caesar zips past Ry, making a break for the car. The Plymouth is covered in shadow, the headlights no longer lighting the rock walls. An anguished breath escapes my lips. Did I kill the car battery by leaving the lights on?
Dammit. Dammit. Dammit.
If the battery is dead, this plan is a wash. My gut twists and drops.
Caesar races to the car, and so much speed pushes through his stride the ground slides beneath us, dirt spewing up dust clouds in Caesar’s feeble attempt to stop. He claws and skids, almost smashing my leg between his body and the car door, when we finally come to a stop. I’m so happy we made it I want to kiss the car.
I climb into the front seat and look back at Caesar. “Are you coming?” He sneezes, shakes his head, and turns away to watch the night.
There’s a security about the car. Maybe it’s the runes creating the illusion of safety in my mind, I don’t know, but whatever it is, I’m happy to be inside with all my fingers and toes. I yank the door shut and hug myself. Attempt to warm my frozen skin. Wait and watch is all I can do, and it’s not something I particularly excel at. Patience—not my strong point. Ry moves far too slowly in my direction. I want to jump out, hurry him along, but under the circumstances I choose to stay put.
The car jolts. A loud, powerful roar vibrates through the car’s metal frame. I look up, skim the headliner with my fingers. Caesar is standing on the roof. I can’t see him, but I know he’s there, watching over and protecting me.