by Wesley King
Carlos drew his sword from the sheath across his back, moving with practiced silence. He considered telling Eric to put out the light, but it didn’t matter now. They had already been spotted. He rose to his haunches, gripping the bone sword with two hands, his eyes darting about.
Carlos heard it again: a brush against the stone from careful footsteps.
His eyes landed on a nearby opening. The Worm was approaching from there. He moved quickly toward it, cocking the sword, and stepped to the side, waiting to bring down his weapon for a killing blow. His stomach was heavy—he did not like to kill. But the Worms would not bear any such reservations. If they found the Midnight King, they would kill him instantly.
Another footstep. Carlos tensed, his fingers trembling on the hilt.
Then a tiny shadow stepped through the opening, and Carlos lowered his sword.
“Eva?”
Seventeen Hours After
* * *
FOR A SECOND, SILVIA THOUGHT she was still dreaming. But when Naj screamed again, she snapped out of the daze and leapt to her feet, feeling her heart pounding wildly through her chest. She had a distant thought that Jana hadn’t been lying: They should have left the lake. Silvia ran through the stunned class and grabbed Naj’s outstretched hand, trying to plant her feet and pull.
“Don’t let go,” Naj screamed.
Silvia got a better look at the attacker now. It looked like a nightmarish distortion of a catfish: long, curling whiskers prodding the ground, no visible eyes, and fins that were walking steadily toward the water like tank treads. It must have been ten feet long.
Silvia felt herself being pulled along with Naj.
In an instant Tom was there beside her, grabbing Naj’s other hand and heaving backward. Naj screamed as the catfish tightened its grasp. Even with both of them, they were outmatched.
“It hurts!” Naj sobbed. The catfish’s gaping mouth was wrapped around his kneecap.
“Help us!” Silvia shouted, looking back at the class.
Joanne and Greg ran over, grabbing onto Naj’s elbows and trying to find steady footing. All of them were sliding along the stone, their shoes finding no traction. The catfish kept pulling.
“Hold this arm!” Silvia said to Joanne.
Joanne tightened her grip, and Silvia stepped forward and brought her shoe down on the catfish’s fleshy gray head. The massive fish didn’t even seem to notice. Its two pairs of squat dorsal fins just kept walking backward, pulling them all toward the water, where its huge forked tail splashed with anticipation, soaking them with more freezing water.
“Again!” Tom shouted.
They were almost at the water now. Silvia knew that if it pulled Naj into the water, he was as good as gone. They had to hurry. This time Silvia reached down, grabbed hold of the catfish’s long whiskers, and pulled.
The catfish yanked its head away, releasing Naj’s leg. It wrenched its whole body like it was caught on a line, and its huge head slammed into Silvia’s waist. She went flying backward, slamming hard into the ground and feeling half her body splash into the icy water.
Silvia looked up, dazed, and saw the catfish coming toward her.
She rolled away from the water and tried to climb to her feet, but the catfish rammed into her torso. Silvia hit the ground hard again and attempted to crawl away. She heard grunts as Tom and the others ran to help, kicking at the enormous fish. Tom grabbed its slimy tail, but it flicked him off like he was nothing.
Silvia scrambled to her feet and climbed up onto an exposed rock, pulling herself up with every last bit of energy she had. The catfish took a last desperate bite at her legs, and then felt the sharp ledge with its long, prodding whiskers, realizing she had gotten away.
Slowly, almost reluctantly, the catfish slunk back into the black water and disappeared.
Silvia ran a soaking hand through her hair, shaking.
“Pack your stuff,” she said. “We’re getting out of here.”
The group started off within minutes, leaving the underground lake behind. A few people had given Ashley dark looks or whispered comments for falling asleep on her watch, but Silvia had come to her rescue. Naj had a pronounced limp but was otherwise okay; catfish didn’t have overly large teeth. A few small cuts and dark bruises on his leg were the only visible reminder of the attack, apart from his trembling hands and pale face.
As they walked out of the chamber, Naj turned to Silvia.
“Thanks, Sil,” he murmured.
“Don’t mention it,” she said.
“You saved my life.”
Silvia shrugged, embarrassed. “Anyone would have done it.”
“But they didn’t. You did.”
Naj kept moving, helped a little by Jordan and Greg. Ashley shot her a supportive smile, and Silvia flushed. Everything had happened so quickly that she didn’t even really have to think about it. How could someone so weak suddenly become brave? Or had she somehow changed?
Silvia dismissed the thought. The familiar bubble of fear was still sitting in her stomach, waiting to swallow her. She wasn’t a hero. Her mind was fickle, and maybe that helped a little down here. But it didn’t make her brave. And it was only a matter of time before her walls broke.
The group slowly climbed the tunnel, many of them locked in nervous conversation about the near miss by the lake. She saw that Tom, Derek, and Leonard were leaning down and staring at something on the wall. Silvia frowned and headed over, tailed by Ashley.
“What is it?” she asked.
Tom shrugged and pointed to the wall. There was another M drawn onto the rock there.
“What do you think they mean?” Derek asked, his eyes on the letter.
“I don’t know,” Silvia said. “But I bet Jana will know if we run into her again.”
“You trust that scary girl?” Leonard mumbled. “She was about to kill Brian.”
“She was right about the lake,” Silvia pointed out.
Tom snorted. “She could have been a bit more specific. I don’t trust her.”
Silvia sighed. “No . . . neither do I.” She noticed that the group was milling around ahead of them, waiting. “Let’s get going. We’ve got to stay together. If Jana was telling the truth and there are other people down here—”
She was cut off by a deep, booming rumble. Silvia recognized the sound immediately. It was the exact same noise they’d heard earlier in the Mystery Room—right before Mr. Baker had fallen. Silvia realized they had all forgotten something very important about earthquakes.
Aftershocks.
Seventeen and a Half Hours After
* * *
ERIC RELAXED AS A SMALL, wiry girl stepped into the meager light of his tuna-torch, her face spotted with dirt and rivulets of sweat. Her long dark hair was knotted and thick and tied back into a loose ponytail. She wore hide pants like Carlos’s, along with something like a black leather jerkin exposing scrawny arms. She also had a bow and arrow strapped around her shoulders.
Carlos looked stunned. “What are you doing here?”
“You didn’t think I was going to let you run off alone, did you?” she asked scornfully. “I just didn’t realize you were going to head in completely the wrong direction to start with. I’ve been looking for you where the demons were sighted, but you run off to the Ghost Woods—oh!”
Her dark eyes flicked to Eric, and she grinned, walking toward him.
“A surface human,” she whispered. “You don’t look like a demon.”
“I don’t feel like one either,” Eric replied, climbing to his feet.
“This is Eric Johnson,” Carlos said. “His class fell in the—”
“What is your shirt made of?” Eva said.
Eric looked at Carlos for support. “Umm . . . cotton, I guess.”
“We don’t have that,” she mused. Her eyes fell on his running shoes. “What are those?”
“You need to go back to Medianoche,” Carlos said. “The Worms could be . . .”
“They are al
ready here,” Eva said, turning back to him. “I saw them.”
Carlos stiffened. “Where?”
“They were crossing through the Warrens. Ten of them, including Jana.”
“Haga,” Carlos muttered, staring out over the yawning chasm. “Where were they headed?”
“Toward the lake,” Eva said. “Obviously, one of them spotted the demons.” She stopped herself and turned to Eric thoughtfully. “Sorry, old habit. I thought surface humans were old white men with beards.”
Eric laughed. “Another myth, I’m afraid. Though we have those too. The ones down here are all students. We fell into your caves after the quake.”
“Interesting,” she said, feeling his sweatshirt between her fingers. “Oh . . . I like this.”
Carlos scowled and pulled her back, turning her to face him. Eric saw fear in his eyes for the first time. “Eva . . . you need to get back to Medianoche. Tell the soldiers to be on guard—”
“Are you going to send me back through the Warrens alone?” she asked. “With the Worms walking around? If they find me, even I may not be able to hold them all off, Brother.”
Carlos hesitated, and then swore again and started to pace. Eva flashed Eric a wink.
“No . . . it is too dangerous,” Carlos said at last. “You will have to stay with us.”
“I agree,” Eva said. “For you two as well. You could use a real warrior for this mission.”
“How old are you?” Eric asked incredulously.
She puffed up, meeting his eyes. “Nine years old, and I could beat you in a fight any day.”
Eric laughed. “I don’t doubt it for a second.”
“This just keeps getting better,” Carlos said. “We must get to the other surface humans quickly. Eva, stay close. Eric, you can keep the light, but prepare to put it out at my warning.”
“Fair enough,” Eric said.
Carlos turned to one of the jagged openings. “And keep an eye out for the Worms,” he said solemnly, sheathing his sword and drawing a knife instead before stalking toward the tunnel.
“He’s become very dramatic since he became King,” Eva whispered to Eric.
“King?” Eric asked, watching as he slipped into the shadows.
“He didn’t tell you?” Eva said. “Not surprising. Come on, Surface Boy!”
She scampered after Carlos, and Eric frowned. “Eric . . . my name is Eric.”
* * *
“Beautiful,” Eric whispered, looking around the chamber in awe.
It was covered in intricate white stone structures, some forming chandelier-like stalactites, others stalagmites like translucent coral, and where they met, pillars that gleamed like diamonds. The formations created reflections on the rocks as well—distorted and disorienting as a fun house. The small flame of his tuna-torch reflected around him, creating eerie floating lights.
“We call it the Room of Light,” Eva said, following close behind him and watching his reaction. “Sometimes we come here with torches, and people just sit here and stare at the light.”
She had stayed close to him the entire walk, quizzing him on the surface and his clothes and what weather was like and how did they stand so much light. She could talk endlessly.
Eric looked up at the shadowy formations on the ceiling. It had been an hour or so since he had lit the tuna can, and it was still burning. It even had a slightly fishy aroma, which had Eva desperate to try some. She stared at the can again now, eyeing the flame.
“Is it going out yet?” she asked.
“I don’t want it to go out, remember?”
She shrugged. “I want to try it.”
“Once it is out,” Eric said firmly. “Carlos?”
“Over here!” he called, his soft voice echoing through the room. “Your friends were here.”
Eva and Eric exchanged a look and hurried over to find him crouched on the ground, holding up a granola bar wrapper. He showed it to them, frowning, and looked down a tunnel.
“Oh, great . . . they’re littering,” Eric said.
Eva took the wrapper and licked it. “Hmm,” she said. “Not as exciting as I thought.”
Carlos stood up again, deep in thought. “If they went that way, they would come to the lake, as I suspected . . . but they would have to cross through an area full of Black Deaths. That would be bad for them. We’ll follow them. If they’re not there, we’ll have to track back.”
“And if we come across the Worms along the way?” Eric asked. “Your Majesty?”
Carlos stiffened, and then turned to Eva. “You told him.”
“I thought it might be important for him to know,” she said, crossing her arms.
“Why didn’t you mention that before?” Eric asked.
“I don’t know,” Carlos said dismissively. “It didn’t seem important.”
“Important?” Eva said. “If the Worms see you they won’t stop until they kill you.”
“Perfect,” Eric muttered.
Carlos hesitated, and then turned away, shaking his head. “It didn’t matter. Doesn’t matter.”
“Why?” Eric said.
“Because he doesn’t think he’s a good King,” Eva answered.
Carlos glared at her. “It’s not that simple, Eva. . . .”
“Actually, it is,” she replied.
“This was my fault,” he said sharply. “I showed mercy.”
“Mercy?” Eric said, frowning.
“Never mind,” Carlos said. “Now let’s get moving again—”
He was cut off by a deep rumble beneath their feet. The noise soon spread, until it was emanating from the walls and ceiling as if they had been swallowed whole.
Eric immediately understood. “Aftershocks,” he shouted. “Get out of the chamber!”
But the shaking intensified before they could move. Eric heard something shatter and caught a glimpse of one of the great pillars tumbling to the ground. Cracking and splintering noises filled the cave. Despite his own warning, Eric felt like his feet were planted in the stone, and he could only watch as the formations fell around him. He heard another awful crack.
Looking up, he saw that one of the massive formations had broken off directly above his head. It wrenched free and dropped, and Eric knew that he was about to die.
But Eva was fast.
She slammed into him like a linebacker, knocking them both out of the way as the formation hit the ground and shattered. Eva half-led, half-dragged him into one of the tunnels, where Carlos was already waiting. Soon, the shaking faded again, and Eva stood up, dusted off her pants, and shot Eric a lopsided grin.
“Looks like you owe me one, Surface Boy.”
Eric wiped his face, hardly believing how close he had just come to death. His body shook.
“Eric,” he managed. “And thank you.”
Beside him, Carlos was staring at the broken chamber, his face ashen.
“What have I done?” he murmured. “I have undone all my forebearers’ work.”
“You?” Eric said, looking at him incredulously. “What are you talking about?”
Carlos was silent for a minute, unwilling to even meet Eric’s eyes. Finally, he spoke in a halting whisper. “I spared a Worm,” he said. “I am sorry. The Mother has punished us since.”
Eric frowned. “With earthquakes?”
“Yes,” Carlos said. “I have brought this on us all.”
Eric climbed back to his feet, shaking his head. “You didn’t cause these, Carlos. King or not. These are called earthquakes. It’s just the tectonic plates shifting. They happen all over the world. We don’t get many in New Mexico, but in California they get a ton. That was just an aftershock. I should have expected them. It probably won’t be the last one either, now that I think about it. They’re obviously pretty severe this far down into the Earth, which makes a lot of sense, really.” He smiled and patted Carlos’s shoulder. “Trust me: This wasn’t about you, man.”
Carlos stared at him, his mouth moving silently. “But my
father always said—”
“Listen,” Eric said, “your father might have been a great guy and a good King . . . I’m sure he was. But you’re not him. Me, I don’t want to be anything like mine. We shouldn’t be spending our whole lives trying to be exactly like our parents. That won’t work.”
“Surface Boy is right,” Eva said. “You need to stop quoting Father ten times a day.”
Carlos looked between them, obviously reluctant, and then turned back to the shattered Room of Light. Broken gemstones littered the floor like a sparkling carpet. “I am the King.”
“Yeah,” Eva said. “King Carlos Santi. And we need him right now.”
“King Carlos Santi . . . ,” Carlos repeated numbly. He nodded. “Yes.”
“Exactly. Now stop moping, and let’s go save Surface Boy’s friends,” Eva said.
Eric sighed. “Eric.”
Carlos laughed and grabbed Eric’s shoulder. “I’m glad you came, Eric Johnson.”
He straightened and turned to go. Then a shadow fell across his face again, and he knelt down and picked something up. Eric leaned in for a closer look. It looked like a large half-eaten beetle.
“What is that?” Eric asked warily as Carlos rolled the beetle between his fingers.
“Haga beetle,” Carlos said. “A very . . . unpleasant creature. Perhaps the worst of all. If one beetle gets a taste of blood it begins to hum, attracting the rest of the horde. They swarm over everything in a ravenous bloodlust. The biggest horde of all lives in a chamber in my Realm, but most of the other hordes live in the Worm lands. They are very common there.”
Eva abruptly pulled out her bow, fitting an arrow and aiming it down the shadowy tunnel.
“What does that mean?” Eric asked, confused.
“The Worms eat them, especially when they are on the move. The Worms were here, heading down this very tunnel. And there is only one reason they would head this far into the Realm.” Carlos stood up. “They have found your friends.”
Eighteen Hours After
* * *
THE WALL OF RUBBLE SETTLED, creating a misshapen barricade. It had split the class in two.