by Eva Natsumi
“Say you want me,” he growled. “I want you!” She yelled, her voice growing hoarse. “Say you need me,” he barked again, grabbing her hips so tight that he broke skin. “I need you!” She screamed, breathless. The sun blinded her eyes and the forest air rushed through her ears. “Say you love me!”
It Goes Too Deep
They fell through the earth. Fast and long, but not so long that time became irrelevant. Through the falling they became parted. They fell through roots, and probably bugs. Mostly they fell through dirt. The oddest things they fell through were lightbulbs and wiring.
There was no night to wash away the sweat and semen.
Saye yelped in pain as Soul landed square on top of her. Whispering curses and other sundry exclamations, he rolled from on top of her. She lie flattened and sprawled on the dirt floor, staring at the gaping hole they’d just fallen through. “Good god this is getting ridiculous!” Saye exclaimed.
Soul stood and offered Saye a hand, eyeing the hole. “You should stop ignoring all the petitions to fix the forest floor, princess.” Saye glowered, standing to brush the dirt from her half-naked body. She attempted to close the bodice that Soul had ripped to ruins. “You could help, you know,” Saye said, gesturing to Soul. “You did this.”
“It appears we fell through another abandoned Under World opening.” The hole they’d fallen through was unlike the previous. It appeared man made, Soul explained, ignoring her venomous entreaty. It was like those of old Under World craftsmanship. There was probably a lift of some kind at one point, which was why there was wiring and light bulbs floating about in the dirt. It never got properly sealed.
Soul lifted some soil from the ground. It was not regular soil, but eroded stone and brick. He fingered the dirt between his palm. It was queer for erosion of such magnitude to be present. The stone was ground as fine as sand, almost a millennia of work. The Under World wasn’t even two centuries old.
Saye threw her hands down exasperated. Her shirt would not stay closed. “Well, fine. These will get eaten to bits by bugs and skitterfrogs. I’m not the only one who won’t be able to enjoy them.” Soul removed his shirt and handed it to Saye. “Thank you,” Saye said, taking the shirt.
“Someone tried to make this look natural,” Soul continued, “But I don’t know why.”
“It’s just a good ol’ fashioned cover up. It’s not even that clever, really.” Saye arched an eyebrow, stuck one arm on her hip, and kicked her leg out; she was attempting to look villainous.
“Enough,” Soul growled. Saye shrugged her arms at Soul’s temper. “You’re making light of a serious quandary— Do you hear that?” The sound of steel clanking together faintly reached their ears. It seemed to float to them like signal smoke. Saye went to her stomach. On a precipice of sorts, the ground was a small circumference made by erosion and packing that extended high above with steep, encircling drops. She leaned her head over the edge and laughed. “What? What do you see?” Soul questioned, lowering himself next to Saye.
“Looks like the UKA is not the only city stained by the blood of dead spiders,” Saye mocked. Below was a silk quarry just like the one outside of the UKA. Spiders diligently spun their silk. When one grew tired, a laborer struck it with a whip made of its own silk.
“I… I don’t understand,” Soul stood. He stepped away from the edge, wringing his red hair between the palms of his hand so tightly that the blood drained. He spun around and stared in to the quarry, his face twisting in agitation.
“Wait!” Saye gestured for Soul to come closer. “Those are the same guys that tried to decapitate me! I knew they weren’t with the UKA.” Below the overseer was seen, a shiny royal plaque embroidered neatly on his tattered jean overalls. They were too high up to hear what he was saying, but it was clear what they were doing: harvesting silk from the spiders.
“I don’t think that’s what that means…” Soul looked down at the overseers. Their plaques blinded even up high. Saye yammered happily and loudly about returning to the UKA. “Saye, I think…” She wouldn’t listen. She was intent upon rehashing her theories. She was right. No one thought her a traitor. “Saye…” She was Princess. If Soul returned her, he would be handsomely rewarded. “Saye…” She was the ruler, the UKA would never dabble in slaves.
“Saye…” Soul and the overseer locked eyes. “It’s not what you think.”
Coarse ropes cut their wrists. They were in a room appearing haphazardly dug out. Whereas other rooms in this underground world had been overlaid with brick or cement or other types of bonding material, for some reason this one had been quickly dug. It was dank and musty and smelled like necrotizing peaches, of spider’s blood. The only light came from a flickering kerosene lamp. Placed on a rotting wood table in the corner of the room, it cast demented shadows against the crude dirt walls.
The overseer stood eerily next to the kerosene. The lamp cast shadows against his face and made his already bulbous face look even more tumorous and horrifying. “Well if it isn’t the traitor princess an’er traitor consort.” Saye spit in the man’s face. Taking no second to clean the clear liquid from his face, the man slapped her clean across hers. A painful, throbbing red handprint flashed across her olive skin.
Soul turned his head aside and whispered to Saye, “Why do you insist on spitting like an irritated alpaca? Do you really think that’s a good idea?”
“I am no traitor!” Saye exclaimed, ignoring Soul. With a dash of hubris like chili powder on chocolate, she spoke to the overseer. “Impersonating a member of the royal party is a crime punishable by death.” Soul laughed. Like bark on a tree, his laugh was rough and strong. Hard to control and overpowering, it grew like a redwood in the forest. Saye glared at him, frowning.
“What’s the punishment for capturing the princess then?” He whispered, laughing and shaking his head against his chest.
The overseer kicked Soul’s chair so hard that it broke a leg. Saye gasped. The laughing stopped. His chest lurched forward and to the side. His head hung limply on his chest. “An’ whas it yur whisperin’ about? Plottin’ sum’in’ no doubt.” The overseer laughed. “No yoo be makin’ plans un my watch.”
Soul sprung out of his chair. Broken bits of wood flew everywhere. The overseer tried to yell but Soul punched him across the jaw. He went down with one hit. With no minute to shake his inevitably stinging or possibly broken knuckles, another man grabbed for Soul. He had heard the commotion and ran through the door, reaching for the first thing that looked out of place: Soul. Soul grabbed his arms and pulled him like a tug-o-rope. The man flipped over and fell on top of the overseer.
Soul quickly ran to untie Saye, who had been frantically trying to get out of her chair. Soul untied her and they locked hands in the dirty, blood smelling room.
“So now we free them, or first do we fight? Bring down the thing by its festering insides. Give it a hefty dose of antibiotics. I must admit that I’m new to the whole ‘people’s army’ thing.” Saye laughed nervously.
“We won’t be doing any of that.”
“What?” Just barely out of the dug out room, they discovered the whole quarry was one giant death trap. It was a gutted city, reconstituted for death. Wires dangled loosely from the ceiling, large holes littered the floor intermittently, steel and wood beams were randomly spaced and falling over, and the lighting was atrocious. Only two small lightbulbs in the whole, cavernous place. Not surprisingly, there were plenty of places to hide. Still, it would be surprising if it took them more than hour to find the escaped hostages. They must move.
“What do you mean we won’t be doing any of that?” Saye’s eyes narrowed. They hid in one of the numerous holes. She and Soul were plastered against the dirt wall, to better stay out of sight. But the walls were unsteady and as she clung to them the dirt gave way beneath her fingertips in a brown deluge. Her fingers were white with effort, her forehead strained. “What do you mean?”
Soul popped his head out of the hole for a brief moment. There wa
s movement around the dug out room. He imagined more overseers had discovered the unconscious bodies in the hut. They needed to find a way out.
“After all this you want to run?”
“Do you have an army with you?”
“No but…”
“Do you have a plan?”
“No but…”
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”
“No but…”
“Then we need to move.”
“And give up?” Saye let go of the wall. Dirt sprayed like shrapnel from her fingertips and in to Soul’s eyes. She slid down to the bottom. “After all this, everything that we know? I won’t.”
There was an opening. For who knows how long all the overseers were inside. Soul’s head was just above the hole for his eyes to see. He espied a tunnel system not far off. It didn’t seem to be in use by the quarry. This was the time to run. It was a thirty second dash to the tunnels and from then, well from then it was providence.
“You must.” Soul reached for Saye and pulled her out of the hole. Soul grabbed her by both shoulders and embraced her. He took her with force that told her if Saye didn’t get a hold of herself he would crumble. His tongue thrust in to her mouth and waged a war with her mind. It wasn’t just about feeling good the moment it was about surviving. He let go of her shoulders and slowly pulled away, kissing her lightly. Saye stood dazed for a minute and then nodded. She understood, even if it was reluctantly. They had to go.
Together they sprinted across the quarry. They sprinted so quickly they thought they might vomit, or perhaps it was the sickly sweet smell of spider’s blood that nauseated them.
What Is Your Move?
They scrambled out of the Under World in to the woods. Soul was right about it being an abandoned UW opening. On both counts, he was right. The only people down there were overseers and slaves. The slaves payed them no mind and if the overseers followed, they did a good job of keeping it secret.
Once they exited the quarry, it was clear the area they were in hadn’t been used in decades. The wiring was ancient and the stone decrepit. There was no light to guide them. They felt their way along the tunnels, hoping they would get somewhere safe. Eventually, and rather soon actually, they did. Soul recognized the markings of a stone slab. An emergency exit, they were in the old Under World subway.
When they pulled the slab, dirt cascaded down. Soul was nearly suffocated. Saye dug him out reluctantly. “I should have left you for dead, the way you left the others.” When the dirt cleared, light flooded the tunnel and more stone slabs were visible inlaid in to the dirt above: a ladder. Saye and Soul climbed out of the old world and in to the new.
“We should have freed them,” Saye muttered. They sat next to a pond. It was blue and green colored, deep and murky. The waters were entirely still, so she threw a rock at them. It skipped once and sunk below the surface. Little ripples disturbed the surface until it went flat again, like moss pudding.
“If we had we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Soul said. The air was getting cooler. Dusk was settling and Soul’s shirt was still on Saye. Cold bumps prickled his skin. He rubbed his shoulders and stared in to the chilly, grey waters.
“Exactly. Very astute.”
“I mean, we would be dead.”
Saye sighed. “A rogue. I asked a rogue for honesty.”
“Come off it. We can go to the Under World. We’ll tell them about the opening and the fraud. We’ll free more spiders that way than playing our hand at vigilantes.“
“Ha!” Saye threw another rock at the water and this time it did not skip. Her arm was sore. They had spent hours filling in the emergency exit with dirt, so the overseers could not follow the light or them.
“That wasn’t the Under World. Or it was, it just wasn’t the right one…” The water rippled by the rocks Saye threw. The rippling, grey waters reflected a distorted visage. Soul’s eyes rippled up and down, catawampus with his nose, never meeting alignment. The perspective was skewed.
“Then what I saw wasn’t the UKA. It was just men wearing the royal seal,” Saye said.
“They could be…”
“They could be in collusion? I’m accepting it. How many times do you need to get kicked by your own horse to realize it’s not a different horse? It’s just a bad horse.” She held her hands aloft, waiting for his answer.
Soul stood and walked away, disappearing in to the forest. Saye dropped her hands, slapping them to her side. She smiled sweetly and followed him. “More than twice, I see.”
The sun was setting and the sky was painted oranges, yellows, reds, pinks, and purples. The colors dripped from the blackening sky like watercolors on a canvas. Saye had not stopped talking since they left the pond. Her voice echoed through the forest.
“You really don’t see it?” Saye asked.
“I’m not going to listen as you try and sell me salt for sugar,” Soul replied.
Saye shook her head and muttered, “Imbecile.”
“That’s your precious country you’re slinging mud on, you know,” Soul said. They reached a clearing. Trees nigh as tall as the indigo sky encircled them. Soul creased his brow and shook his head. He was lost. He walked to an edge of the clearing and peered his head out: darkness. This area was not familiar. The clearing was foreign to him, almost man made looking. It could be that he’d remembered the way to the Under World capitol incorrectly. Saye’s constant yammering did not help his thought process.
“I’m a princess, not a pawn. To be princess one needs accept truths in order to fix them.”
Soul laughed, head ensconced by trees. “Please, continue.”
“How often do pawns win? They lose because they only move two ways. You’re marching to your death on a stubborn ideal.”
“Tricky metaphors don’t change reality. Speaking of…” Soul trailed off. In all directions darkness filled gaps made by trees. Night was come, an unnatural still settled the forest air, and there was no time for second guessing direction.
“I’m just trying to sell you the salt of things,” Saye said, referring to what Soul had said earlier. Soul stopped looking for familiarity. He eased away the eeriness, and turned his direction to Saye, bridging the gap between them. “In your reality then, princess,” he pulled her to him gently, stroking the back of her neck, “What is your move?”
Saye’s face contorted with pain. Blood filled and seeped from her shoulder like a wine spill. She fell on Soul and his face was an opening curtain of emotion. First a picture of stunned and unmoving happiness it soon became shocked with understanding and twisted in confusion and worry. Upon seeing the blood and cause his face was rage. An arrow had pierced Saye’s shoulder.
Soul rested Saye on the ground, the arrow stuck in her shoulder. He spun his head furiously, looking for the culprit.
A young man scuttled over, his face pale upon seeing Saye. “Oh, dear. I’m so sorry. That wasn’t meant for you.” He cleared his throat and lifted his chin up. “By order of the Second District of the Under World, Soul is hereby called upon to punitive council by the Second District elect Joseph Kearny.” Soul’s face turned purple with blood fury. He rose to meet the scrawny young messenger.
“Who are you?” He growled to the boy. The boy cleared his voice and started to speak his recitations again. “No,” Soul barked, lifting the boy by his throat. “Who are you and who sent you?”
“Joseph Kearny,” The boy sputtered, clasping for his throat as Soul lifted him higher. “Joseph Kearny sent me. I don’t know who you are but you pissed off some high ranking people in the Under World.” Soul dropped him and the boy crawled backwards.
“Who is Joseph Kearny?”
“You don’t know?” Soul menaced and the boy crawled back further, stumbling out his words. “He’s, he’s the second district elect, he’s the number two guy to the UKA, and he oversees all of the silk production between the UW and the UKA coalition. He also likes soccer and…”
“That’s enough.” So
ul glowered. “What’s in your pack?” Soul eyed the boy’s small leather pack, attached firmly to his hip.
“Nothing. Nothing that can help her.” Saye was dying the forest floor red. “Leave it.” The boy ripped the pack from his shoulder and threw it to the ground without flourish. He sprinted from the clearing and in to the dark trees without further word.
Soul bandaged Saye the best he could with the supplies he had. “On the count of three,” he said, holding just below the arrow head. “Just do it.” She replied. He pulled the arrow out as quickly as he could, but it still felt like millennia by the one, pale scream that echoed off the trees. Soul stared at the de-feathered and bloodied arrow in his hand for only a second before he bandaged Saye with her own clothes.
He stripped her above the waste. “Any excuse to see me…” Saye drifted in and out. “Hey!” Soul snapped her to attention. “Fall asleep and I will take advantage of your royal body.” Inside the pack there really wasn’t much Soul could use in the way of helping Saye. The boy had plenty of food, water, and arrows, and that was about it. So Soul ripped Saye’s shirt further to help pack and tie the wound. He then tied his own pants around her body to keep the dressing tight.
It was well in to the austere and icy minutes of night by the time Soul bandaged Saye, and he’d used most of their clothing to do so. Their breaths made white ghosts in the black night. Soul held Saye as tightly as he could without breaking open the wound, yet she was still cold. He glanced around, there was plenty of wood yet no means of cutting it. Then he saw the bloodied arrow head.
“That’s a bad idea,” Saye murmured.
“They came without light, let them come again with it.” Soul slaved over the unused wooden arrows. The head’s provided sub par flint. There was minimal dead shrubbery in the outlying woods, but Soul managed to scrounge some and make a makeshift flint and tinder. By the time the sparks caught his palms were red raw.