Facing the Fire

by Carol Beth Anderson

“More like decades.”

  “This is really disgusting, Papa.”

  He smiled at her. “But beautiful too, don’t you think?”

  She considered that. “Fascinating, maybe. Not beautiful.”

  He chuckled and led her along. Most of the bones weren’t stacked so artistically. The majority were piled in small ossuaries that had been dug out on both sides of the tunnels. Stone signs hung above some of the spaces.

  “These are all names,” Tavi said.

  “Families donated toward the construction of the catacombs, and in exchange, they were told they’d have a specific place to visit their own ancestors. We now know the bones weren’t sorted well when they were dug up and transported here. That ossuary is labeled ‘Kivvier,’ but it’s unlikely to contain any of the Kivvier family’s bones.”

  It didn’t take long to reach the end of the public section of the catacombs. An open, metal gate marked the entrance to the private portion. “Here we are,” Jevva said, leading her through. “Your home for now.”

  They walked through the tunnel, which was similar to the area they’d just been in, with small, labeled ossuaries on either side. After a few curves in their path, Tavi heard voices. Two more turns led them to a room that appeared to have been dug out by human hands. Like the tunnels, its walls were constructed of rough stones. It was small compared to the huge caverns she’d seen under the Meadow, and the ceiling was low, only about a foot above her father’s head. But the room was large enough to hold perhaps three or four dozen sleeping people. When Tavi and her father entered, she saw the eight other Golds, plus Officer Andisis.

  The cave was well-lit by several lanterns, and when Tavi saw the wall on her right, her breath caught in her throat. It made The Hand of Savala look like a peaceful, pastoral landscape.

  Just like the other wall, this one was made of stacked bones. But it utilized far more skulls. They were stacked in a formation that created one large skull, the full height of the wall. The eyes, nose, and mouth were filled with black bones.

  Tavi looked at her father, her mouth gaping. “We’re supposed to sleep next to this thing?”

  He shrugged. “It’s the Skull Wall. It’s just bones.”

  “But some of them are black!”

  “They’re burned.”

  “Oh, that’s not going to give me nightmares at all!” She folded her arms, glad she was still wearing her coat. It wasn’t as cold down here as outside, but it was chilly, and when she glanced at the Skull Wall, she felt several degrees cooler. “Why is this room so big?” she asked.

  “A certain religious sect wanted to hold services next to their ancestors,” her father said. “They spent many years excavating the room and making the stone walls and the Skull Wall. According to tradition, once the room was complete, they met here for less than a year. Then their sect began fighting about theology, and they stopped meeting entirely.”

  “Why isn’t this part open to the public now?” Tavi asked.

  Her father cleared his throat. “They simply felt it was best—”

  “It’s because people think it’s haunted!” Narre interrupted.

  Jevva gave Officer Andisis a reproachful look. “You told them?”

  “I didn’t know it was a secret!” the officer protested.

  “It’s not haunted,” Jevva said. “But you know how people love to spread rumors. It got so bad that visitors began trying to dismantle the Skull Wall. They said they wanted to free the ghosts. Eventually, the shepherds chose to close this portion. They closed the tunnels leading up to it too, because it was becoming too expensive to guard the entire space.”

  Tavi looked at the wall once more, then shivered and held up her hands. “You said we have water and washrags?”

  “Over here.” Her father led her to a corner of the room, where crates of supplies were stacked. He opened one and pulled out a basin, a pitcher, and two rags. He unfolded a small, wooden table and set the basin and rags on top. Next to the crates were two large barrels, one stacked atop the other. He twisted a spigot in the top barrel, and clear water flowed into the pitcher.

  Tavi poured some of the water into the basin. “Where did all these supplies come from?” she asked as she scrubbed the blood off her hands, turning the water pink.

  Jevva looked out at the room. “Good question. I think you’ll all want to hear this.”

  The other Golds gathered, sitting on blankets around Tavi and her father.

  Jevva smiled at them. “Benisa copied your Resister List and gave it to me. Officer Andisis and I have spent the last two days visiting people on the list. They all know we’ve found a safe space, and some of them may join us here. But in the meantime,” he said, gesturing at the supplies, “one of your resisters used to own a general store, and she had a shed full of old merchandise. She supplied this table, the basin and pitcher, dishes, and more. Another person from the list has a well that occasionally runs dry, so he always keeps barrels of water. He gave us these and said there’s more if we need it. The mother of the boy who came to us at dinner the other day has offered to wash your laundry when it’s dirty. Her son will join us here tomorrow. The bakery owners provided plenty of bread and said they’ll give us some fruit and canned food too. And see that stack of boxes? They’re full of dried meat, thanks to your butcher friend.”

  “Kogar came through for us!” Tullen said. “Did he sing a song about the dried meat?”

  Officer Andisis laughed. “He did indeed. He offered to cook fresh food for you too, though we’ll have to deliver it in the middle of the night.”

  “Down here we won’t be able to tell what time of day it is, anyway,” Ash pointed out.

  “That’s a good point,” Jevva said. “In fact, we want you all to sleep during the day when visitors are in the catacombs. That way you’re less likely to alert them of your presence. Particularly if we end up with children in here. They may get a little loud.”

  “One question,” Tullen said, raising his hand. “I assume indoor plumbing hasn’t made it to the catacombs yet?”

  Tavi groaned. She hadn’t even thought of that.

  “Unfortunately, you’re correct,” Jevva said. He pointed at a shadowy corner and said, “There’s a tunnel leading to a small room that way. It’s an ossuary, but we moved the bones out. We’ve set it up as an outhouse—or perhaps we should call it an inhouse. Your, ah, your waste will accumulate in a large bucket under the seat, and we’ll dump it every night.”

  “If you can get me a shovel, I’ll use my gift to dig a nice, deep hole under the seat,” Ash said. “We can cover it with dirt a few times a day. It might keep the air in here a little more pleasant. If it fills up, I’ll dig another.”

  Jevva nodded. “Good idea. I’ll get you a shovel tomorrow.”

  They spent the rest of the evening chatting and getting settled, each of them choosing a place to sleep. Tavi found a blanket and pillow and set them up next to Narre’s makeshift bed. They were as far from the Skull Wall as they could get.

  When the clock in the room indicated morning had arrived, they all settled onto their pallets. Tavi realized she’d have been better off right underneath the Skull Wall. From this far away, she could see the entire, gruesome image, cast in horrendous light and shadow thanks to the one lantern that remained lit.

  Tavi had already had difficulty sleeping since Ellea was arrested. Despite the words of Officer Andisis’ friend, she’d tried to keep hope, insisting perhaps Ellea had been transferred to a different office of safety. Maybe she’d even been sent home. But as she looked at the Skull Wall, she couldn’t stop herself from pondering the likelihood of her dear friend’s death.

  She shut her eyes tight, expecting to be kept awake by thoughts of the midwife who’d brought her into the world. But within minutes of closing her eyes, Tavi’s mind released its worries and gave her the gift of sleep.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  If that girl is in Savala, you must find her. All your officers should work aro
und the clock if necessary. Find her.

  - Chief Minister Burrell to Officer Osher Vogan, from Year One: Correspondence in the Corminian Kingdom

  Within five days, forty people lived in the catacombs.

  Tavi couldn’t believe how quickly the population of their secret community had grown. The Blessed of Savala were scared, and for good reason. According to Officer Andisis, there had been seven murders in the past week. The officers were still convinced there was no organized movement of people desiring gray magic, just random individuals all over the city, desperate to free their magic from resistance.

  The arbitrary nature of it was what made it so terrifying. One of the new refugees told Tavi, “I would lie down every night and tell myself there was only a tiny chance of me being next. There are thousands of Blessed in Savala. But every time I wondered Why would it be me? my next thought was Why wouldn’t it?”

  That was the story they heard over and over. Blessed couldn’t rest at night, frightened that they’d be the next one not to wake up. They’d do anything, even sleep underneath a Skull Wall, to avoid such terror.

  The first refugee to arrive had been the student who’d told them about being chased. The other Gold apprentices had followed close behind, on their parents’ insistence. One of them had brought along a young, sun-blessed sibling.

  Benisa had then approached her patient who was scared to venture out, and the young woman had gladly come to the catacombs. Her pregnancy was only halfway through, but even if they stayed for months, Jenevy could deliver the baby.

  Jevva and his shepherd friend had started inviting frightened, gifted parishioners to move, and a surprising number of them jumped at the chance, despite not being allowed to bring their ungifted family members with them.

  Moving registered Blessed into the catacombs was fairly simple. Unlike the Golds, gifted Savalans could travel during the day. If a safety officer stopped them, they showed their bracelets and went on their way. Rather than walking to the catacombs, they visited the parish hall next door. They stayed in there until the middle of the night, when the parish hall’s shepherd brought them to their new home.

  In fact, the shepherd was so enthusiastic about the efforts that she’d brought several of her own parishioners over. Even her sister, who had a speech gift, had moved in. Her singing instilled magical calm on listeners, and the previous two mornings, she’d offered to sing to lull the few children in the room to sleep. Her gift had worked even better on the adults than the children.

  Tavi was glad so many people had found a safe haven, but she was also teetering on the edge of misery. She had to endure Narre’s kicking, due to their pallets being pushed so close together. There was always a line at the “inhouse,” and despite Ash’s efforts, it stank. She shuddered every time she came across a random assortment of human bones. And worst of all was the noise. All through their waking hours, the voices of forty people filled the space.

  The Golds huddled together in a corner after breakfast, a meal held at their normal dinnertime, on their sixth day in the catacombs.

  “We must find a more permanent home for all these people,” Sall said. “Last night, I was sure the screaming would attract visitors from the public tunnels.”

  Their youngest resident, a seven-year-old who’d moved in with her mother two days earlier, had woken, screaming about skulls. But no one had come to investigate. Perhaps the twists and turns in the private tunnels had swallowed up the sound of her voice. Or maybe the catacomb visitors had taken the sound as proof that the blocked-off areas were indeed haunted.

  “They could go back home if the gifted of Savala stopped killing each other,” Tavi said. “That’s what we need to address.”

  “No, we don’t,” Ash replied.

  Tavi scowled at him.

  “I know it’s not what any of us want to hear,” he said, “but I’ve come to the conclusion we can’t do anything in Savala. Not with our faces plastered all over the walls. Konner, Relin, and Camalyn are the problems, and we’ll have to take them down somewhere else.”

  “How are we supposed to do that?” Tavi asked.

  “I don’t know.” Ash’s serious eyes met hers. “I’m thinking about it. But in the meantime, we’re giving people a safe place to stay during an unsafe time. That may not be what we pictured ourselves doing as resisters, but it’s still worthwhile. And I agree with Sall; we’re already outgrowing this cavern. We need a better place to shelter people.”

  Tavi didn’t know what had happened to Ash recently. He was participating in their strategy sessions more than ever before, and he actually had good things to say. She knew she should be glad, but she was mostly annoyed. In her mind, Ash fit squarely in the evil category, and she wasn’t sure how to respond to his helpfulness.

  He was still talking, and Tavi shifted her attention back to his words. “. . . but it will only work,” he was saying, “if the monastery is willing to help us again.”

  “Wait—what?” Tavi turned to face him. “What about the monastery?”

  “I think forty people would be a lot more comfortable there than here.”

  There were plenty of things wrong with the idea. The monks had been hesitant to welcome the Golds; what would they think if asked to host five times as many people? Where would they all fit? Aloud, Tavi asked the biggest question of all: “How in the world are we supposed to lead forty people out of Savala?” She gestured to the rest of the room. “Most of them could probably get out of the city, but we certainly can’t.”

  Ash smiled, the second genuine smile Tavi had seen on him in the last week. “I have an idea.”

  Ash’s touch gift allowed him to do manual labor quickly. One of the refugees shared the same gift.

  Another refugee was a mind-blessed engineer.

  Narre had the ability to break apart stubborn rock.

  One of the Gold apprentices could use her touch gift to compact dirt and even stone into small, incredibly dense balls of matter.

  The stride gift of one refugee allowed her to travel any distance and know exactly how far she’d gone, and her hearing gift gave her the ability to know precisely which direction she was facing, without the need for any visual cues such as the sun. No one quite knew how that worked, but it did.

  A young, speech-blessed refugee could inhale stale, dirty air and exhale clean air.

  And Ven . . . Ven made them all immeasurably better with his touch gift. A gift that never seemed to wear out, as long as the young man was awake.

  Within hours of Ash sharing his idea with the Golds, he’d built a team of determined refugees. And within a week of that team’s formation, they’d built a tunnel that was a mile and a half long. The catacombs were in the outskirts of Savala. When finished, the tunnel would be two miles long, terminating in the forest west of the city.

  Tullen would then use his gift to take Tavi through the tunnel and all the way to the monastery, where she would ask for sanctuary for their people. Tavi was losing sleep over this step; if the monks refused, all the work on the tunnel would be for naught, and the refugees and Golds would still need a place to stay.

  If the monks accepted them, the refugees would move as soon as they could. Not all the refugees would come, however. Some preferred to stay close to home in the catacombs. Others were children whose parents might not allow them to travel with strangers. But the Golds believed the monastery was the safest option, and a majority of the refugees seemed to agree.

  One afternoon (actually the middle of the night), the tunnel crew lounged on their pallets, taking a well-deserved break. Sall and Tavi approached, carrying trays of drinks.

  “Cider for all to celebrate the new year!” Tavi said.

  Narre sat up and took a cup. “I forgot that was today!” She looked up at the low ceiling. “Spring is here. I wonder if it feels like it yet.”

  “Yesterday Tavi’s father said most of the snow has melted from the city,” Sall replied. “There’s still quite a bit on the mountain.”

/>   When all the cider had been passed out, Tavi took a long drink from her own cup. It was lukewarm, but it tasted fantastic. She turned to Narre to say as much when a shout broke into their celebration.

  “Everyone on the ground! On your bellies, hands on your heads! Now!”

  Children screamed, and a few adults did too. Tavi’s eyes widened at the sight of six safety officers at the room’s entrance, all of them pointing hand cannons into the room.

  The officer repeated his instructions, but at the same time, Jenevy’s voice rang through the room: “Extinguish!”

  Thank Sava for Jenevy. She’d been leading the refugees and Golds in emergency drills to prepare them for situations such as these, and the word “Extinguish” focused them all. Adults quickly put out the flames of the room’s oil lamps. The only light remaining in the room came from the officers’ lamps.

  “We only want Tavi, Ash, and the others in their group!” one of the officers shouted. “The rest of you aren’t in danger as long as you give them up!”

  “Go!” Jenevy shouted.

  Most of the room’s residents began crawling toward the safety of the tunnel. Two people close to the room’s entrance improvised by grabbing the officers’ lanterns and shutting them off. Only one lantern, sitting on the ground behind the officers, remained.

  Meanwhile, Tavi, Tullen, Sall, Narre, and Ash, the Golds who’d undergone the most combat training, rushed at the officers. Screams and grunts sounded as the running Golds inadvertently stepped on crawling refugees’ fingers and legs. Tavi shut out the protests. Speed was all that mattered right now. They had to disarm the intruders.

  After arriving in Savala, Officer Andisis had pulled the Golds aside for several training sessions, focusing on defending against the hand cannons so many officers now carried. Officer Andisis had told them over and over, “Hand cannons are terrible weapons. They take too long to shoot. They’re inaccurate. If you act quickly, you can use an attacker’s hand cannon for your advantage.”