A cry pierces the silence.
Our trance is broken. It’s followed by another wale, deeper and more desperate.
We jerk our heads in the direction it came from. Another sector; one of the other leagues. He glances at me, fear igniting his blue irises, just before another scream shatters our secluded cocoon.
I splash toward the edge of the pool and lift myself out of the water and onto the cold rock slab of the cave floor. The scream is muffled now, but just as disturbing. I attempt to ring out my tunic, the sound coming from the back of the cavern causing my hands to tremble, and instead reach for my pants.
Caben steps before me and places them in my hand. He doesn’t say anything as we yank on our clothes. My eyes can’t help but wander to the toned muscles of his arms and legs as he fights into his pants. I give my head a hard shake, tearing my gaze away, and another high-pitched wale sounds out, capturing my full attention.
He grabs my hand, and we hunch down and hustle through the opposite tunnel. We splash though the shallow stream as a grinding noise echoes off the rock walls. The high whirring sends a shiver splintering though my system, and my skin prickles.
Up ahead, a dim light peeks through a crack. I drop the light-stick down the front of my sopping tunic, dousing our light. As we reach the opening, the noise rings out in clear rhythmic buzzes. Some kind of tool—a drill.
Caben drops to his stomach and angles his head over the ledge. I tug his arm to pull him back, but he holds up his hand. “They can’t see us.”
I’m not so sure about that. If it’s Otherworlders down there, their eyes are made for this dark world. I bet they can see down here just as clear as we can see in our bright world.
But my curiosity wins out, and I lie down next to Caben, the water soaking my pants.
Below is an exact replica of our training room. For a moment, I wonder if we’ve simply went in a circle until I catch a glimpse of a contender that I don’t recognize. He’s strapped to a chair, his bright yellow hair fanned out over the back. Two Otherworlders stand on either side of him, one holding a tool with a sharp point to the contender’s open mouth. The other forcing the yellow-haired guy’s mouth open as the drill fastens metal wiring to his teeth.
I grind my own teeth to keep from shouting out.
The piercing shrill of the drill drowns out the contender’s screams as the Otherworlder adds more metal to his mouth.
It’s barbaric. Caben reaches over and grips my hand. Whether to offer comfort or to keep me from jumping down there and killing them, I’m not sure. Maybe both.
Finally, the man’s screams stop, but the drill doesn’t. He’s either gone into shock or he’s too drained to fight anymore. When the Otherworlder pulls back the drill, I get a full view of what’s been done to the contender.
His mouth has been transformed into a killing device. Silver razor-sharp teeth glint against the ultraviolet light. The Otherworlder holding the contender’s mouth closes his jaw, testing his bite. It snaps shut with a sickening snap.
I’ve seen many inhuman things from the Otherworlders since they invaded my city. But this mutilation makes the mercury fire through my veins like a heat-seeking projectile. It’s too much—too callous—even for them. Bax might be a part of their evilness, but I could never imagine him doing this to one of his contenders.
And with this thought—
Lilly.
Oh, Alyah. What have they done to her?
Every muscle in my body tenses. I release Caben’s hand and spring to my feet, pushing myself into a position ready to launch.
Caben draws up and wraps his arms around me from the side, pinning me to the wall of the tunnel. “Kal,” he breathes next to my ear. “Focus. There’s nothing we can do now.”
I wrestle one arm free and grasp his jaw, turning his face toward mine. “Lilly is down there—”
“She’s tough,” he snaps. “Think about it. Why would they tamper with a Nactue?” His eyes widen, begging for my reasoning. “They won’t chance weakening her before a match. That contender is a low rank—a Dark Horse. Remember? They have nothing to lose with him.”
Caben’s right. Bax told us that Tobias was to battle an equally ranked contender: Metal Mouth. I shut my eyes and release my death grip on Caben’s face. Then I slam my hand down, sending my anger into the rock floor.
Noise comes from below again, banging and jostling.
“Are you back?” Caben asks.
I nod, my movements forced. It must be enough because he slowly releases me, then turns to look over the edge. Saying a quick prayer for control and wisdom, I beg Farrah to bestow me with her will. There’s some reason I’ve been brought here; some purpose. I pray being made to watch my sisters die is not part of it.
Scooting closer to the opening, I hunch down and peer over the side. The Otherworlders have packed away their torture devices, and the contender has been removed. The training facility is empty, and a still quiet sets my nerves on edge.
“She’s in one of those chambers,” I say. “I have to go down and find her.”
Caben forces out a strained breath. “I’m coming with you.”
I shake my head. “No. You have to be able to get back if I’m caught. The Nactue need someone from all the leagues on their side if there’s a plan in motion.” I look at him. “Now isn’t the time for your manly pride, Caben. I can take care of myself.”
“You think that . . . ?” His lips press into a hard line. He jerks his head sideways. “Never mind. Go do what you need to do, Kal. I’ll wait here.”
As much as I want to reassure him and make him understand, I need to uncover the truth of the Otherworlders more. In my soul, I understand why I took that vow—why I chose my empress and duty over myself. There is no room for matters of the heart.
It becomes a weakness.
I can’t allow the prince’s pain, no matter how close to my own, to cloud my purpose. Getting him back to his kingdom, saving Empress Iana and my country is my purpose. I can’t even allow the worry for my mother to invade my thoughts.
In a way, I’ve forbidden myself, and it was a conscious choice.
Before I lower myself over the edge, I reach out to grasp the Caben’s hand but stop midair. Any hint about what could’ve happened between us back in the pool has to be shattered. My fingers curl into a fist, and I tamp my emotions down into the pit of my stomach.
“Go back,” I tell Caben. “You were supposed to stay there to keep a lookout. Go back to Bax’s section and make sure the other contenders don’t realize we’re missing.”
He looks at me then, his face hardened, his eyes heated. “As smart as you are, you really can be quite dense.” He turns and heads back down the tunnel.
My stomach flips, and I try to ignore the ache invading my chest. His anger is justified. But I can’t chance his life.
Taking a deep breath, I cleanse my mind, and descend into Krewl’s hell dimension.
The air is tinged with a tangy, metallic scent. As I slink against the walls of Krewl’s training facility, I notice dark stains on the ground, near them, fresh pools of blood. There is no mercy for Krewl’s contenders. He trains them to win, regardless if they die in the process.
I brace an arm around my roiling stomach, thinking that Lilly or Kai may have spilled some of it. Or the blood may even be theirs if they refused to play by his rules. Still, they’re alive, and hopefully Lilly has the answer that will free us before the Reckoning.
The silence bothers me more than if the contenders were up and moving around. I need to know their locations—pinpoint the areas to avoid. I pause next to the opening that leads into their master cell and close my eyes. Focusing my senses past the whirring of the fan blades, past the hum of the spires, and past the slow trickle of the waterfall, I zero in on the stirring bodies in the chambers.
It’s a slumber of disturbed minds, trying to sleep their last sleep before possible death.
Farther into the cell, a distinct noise catches my attent
ion, and I nearly laugh from the uplifting happiness tickling my insides. Someone is cracking their knuckles slowly, one by one.
Lilly.
Peeking around the corner, I make sure no other contenders are roaming, then I move along the stone wall toward the chambers. The popping sound is coming from the first room, and I wonder if Lilly knew I’d somehow make it to her, if she chose it for this very reason.
The sound stops, and the side of the dingy curtain parts. Lilly’s amber eyes meet mine. They widen, and she waves her hand, signaling me to go back into the training room. I want to latch on to her and take her with me, but I nod and check over my shoulder, then quietly make my way back.
Squatting in a corner, I wait for her. When I see her thin form emerge from the opening, I whisper her name and her shoulders release their tension, slumping.
“Kal, what in the goddess—” She shakes her head and hugs me. Her arms warp tightly around me, and I match their strength. “I knew you’d come tonight.” She backs away, and her lips pull downward. “Have you seen Willa?”
I shake my head. “No. I came here first. But I know she’s all right.” Lilly nods, her eyes glistening at the corners, and I say more assuredly, “She’s a fighter, Lills. She’s strong.”
“I know. I just wish . . .”
“I know.”
A silence stretches between us. I take her hand in mine.
“There’s no way out of this building,” she says. “I’ve checked, and Kai scouted the perimeter when we first arrived.” Her fingers grip my hand tighter, her eyes drop to the floor.
My thumb strokes the top of her hand, and I try to focus my thoughts. I want to ask her a million questions—but I’m just content Krewl hasn’t fastened some deplorable device on her. So I move past my worries. “You were trying to warn me about something. What?” My mind flashes to my last moments with Carina. And the knowledge of the full moon rising tomorrow brings the pressing anxiety full circle.
Lilly takes in a shaky breath and pulls her hand free. “We’ve been trying to find a way to escape before tomorrow,” she says. Her shoulders lift as she rings her hands, trying to keep from snapping her knuckles. “The Reckoning isn’t just a sport to the Otherworlders. Do you remember all those stories we heard growing up, of the moon goddess being punished and cast into the earth?”
“Sort of.” I scrunch my nose. “I remember the stories, but don’t recall her being the moon goddess, or what connection the moon has to the Otherworlders.”
Her brows hike past her copper bangs. “How could you not remember? The jokes . . . all the games we played during training making fun of moon mad—”
Her words cut off, but I finish her sentence. “Madness.”
She turns her head to the side. “Sorry, Kal. It’s been so awful here that it just slipped my mind.” She rubs her hands down her face and says a curse under her breath. “It was stupid that I didn’t remember.”
“I’m grown now,” I assure her, dipping my head in order to see her face. “I can handle it. More importantly, I need to know so we can fight whatever it is we need to fight.”
Her head tilts, and she stares into my eyes. “Yeah?”
I nod, urging her on.
“All right then.” Her eyes take on the glow of the ultraviolet light, and her cheeks bloom as she forces out a heavy breath. “How are we to fight a crazy goddess?”
As I work my way down the rock wall and into Bax’s training room, my thoughts plague me. Lilly is using the tunnel right now to go to Willa. I’m worried about them getting caught, but I wasn’t about to stand in her way. Nothing will stop her.
It was difficult to go in the opposite direction in the cave. I wanted to go with her. I miss Willa to death, too. But I’ve been gone longer than planned already. Caben is waiting for me.
I go over our strategy again, finding some comfort in the plan Lilly and I have formed—or rather, our last ditch effort if we fail to find another way out. But to make it happen, we’ll need to form an alliance among all three leagues. And that’s going to be damn impossible.
My head continues to churn theories, and I’m so lost in thought that I miss my footing. My fingers—slick from crawling through the stream—slip, losing their grip on the rock, and I drop.
Hard arms catch me mid-fall, and Caben and I collapse to the ground.
“At least you decided to tumble only a few feet up,” he says, sitting up and briskly setting me aside.
I open my mouth to thank him, but before words leave my mouth, he jumps to his feet and starts in the direction of the master cell.
“Caben,” I whisper roughly.
He stops walking and his back stiffens, but he doesn’t turn around. “I’m sure you’ve discovered many things of importance, but if I’m going to be of any use, I require sleep.”
His distant and harsh words needle my chest with sharp pricks of pain. Anger over his damned male pride flares, and I huff. I understand that he’s still upset with me, may even feel rejected, but there’s no time to coddle his ego.
Dusting the black earth from my pants and tunic, I move closer to his turned back. “I spoke with Lilly, and I know that you don’t believe in deities, but—”
“I never said that I didn’t believe in them,” he interrupts. “I just choose not to put my faith in them.” He rakes both hands through his dark hair and faces me. “I don’t trust them.”
The coolness of his blue eyes causes the words to falter on my tongue. I open my mouth a couple of times, trying to force them out. “You blame the goddesses for your mother’s condition,” I finally mange. “More so, you blame the Otherworld goddess.”
Crossing his arms, Caben rolls his shoulders back and stands tall, his face hardened into an unreadable mask. “The moon goddess—the goddess of madness and lunacy?” He chuckles harshly. “Bale’s a myth. She’s children’s stories. And no. I don’t blame the goddesses for my mother. But I do fault them for not protecting her from my father.”
“Why didn’t you say—” I bite off my rant. I want to give him my full attention and talk about his mother, but not now. Shaking my head, I suck in a steadying breath. “Caben, if you knew about their deity, why didn’t you mention it before? We could’ve made the connection sooner and not wasted time.”
A rigid smile crooks the side of his mouth. “Wasted time,” he repeats, low and callous. And I realize what I’ve said—that our time in the cave meant nothing to me. But it’s not what I meant. “Kal, it’s stories,” he continues. “Do you really think some god is—”
“Bale,” I correct him. “A goddess.”
“Of course.” He scowls. “Do you really think stories are going to help us?”
“I think that everything the Otherworlders are doing is a direct order from their goddess, yes. That if they truly believe in her, and she’s as mad as the stories state, then we’re up against something we’re not prepared for.” I take a cautious step toward him. “I think the Reckoning is more than a blood sport.” I rub the back of my neck, trying to work out the tension building in my shoulders. “Carina was trying to explain it to me before she died. The full moon . . . the Reckoning . . . the contenders”—I motion between us—“they’re all connected. Carina had discovered something. She was trying to warn me.”
I drop my head, close my eyes, and try to recall everything she said at the first Nactue meeting. Except I keep hearing her last, whispered word: Traitor. But who? Are the Otherworlders traitors for worshiping an exiled goddess? If she knew something that could’ve helped, why not tell the empress? Why not tell us all before we were invaded? Maybe she only speculated. Maybe she didn’t have all the answers, only pieces of the puzzle as I now have. Or maybe she was too angered by the Council’s decision to retire her to care.
Lost in my thoughts, I don’t hear Caben approach, but I’m suddenly aware of his close proximity. The charged air between us tugs at me like a live current.
He runs the pads of his fingers along my forehead, pushing
aside the hair from my eyes. I look up at him. “You truly believe the Otherworlders attacked our countries in order to serve their goddess?”
Releasing a repressed breath, I answer, “Yes.”
His deep blue eyes travel over my face, landing back on my own. “If so, how does this information help us? Will figuring out the riddle save us and the other contenders tomorrow?”
I hold his gaze. “It could. We don’t have anything else to go on.”
Biting down on his bottom lip, he nods. “I’ve discovered that finding a loophole in ones beliefs is the best way to fight—to combat someone on their own terms. I thank my father for that.” He kicks his booted foot against a rock. “If they undeniably believe in Bale, whether she actually exists or not, then they’ll take her guidance without question.”
“You mean we could find out how they’re communicating with their deity and . . .” And what? The dark priest would be the closest to a sacred channel. Is he the one giving orders? “. . . And plant new orders?” I say questioningly as the thought comes to me.
“Something like that.” His intense gaze roams over my form and my heart rate speeds. “Or they might listen to someone who they believe has a direct link to their goddess.”
Our dark corner of the training room suddenly feels as if it’s closing in. My stomach knots and tension threads my spine, clutching my body like a vise.
“And who would that be?” I ask, my voice unsteady.
He takes a step back and releases an audible breath. “I don’t know,” he says. “But if we’re to do anything at all before or during the Reckoning, we need sleep.” He jerks his head sideways. “Come on. We’ll wake early and figure it out then.”
Caben turns on his heel and heads toward the master cell, and I release the breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding. He can’t know of my cybernetic fix. He can’t possibly know of my connection to Alyah—that she saved my life, affecting the mercury that courses through my bloodstream. Yet, he’s aware of something.
Slowly, I take a step, and then another, trailing behind the prince as he walks the dimly lit tunnel. I find that I’m always underestimating him. He can’t know the details, but he’s caught on to the fact that I am hiding something, and he thinks we can use it.
Of Silver and Beasts (Goddess Wars) Page 16