A World Below

by Wesley King

  A rivulet of blood running down the man’s foot.

  Jana seemed to realize it at the same time. “No,” she murmured. “You fool.”

  A deep, resonating hum began to emanate from beneath them, growing louder and louder.

  Jana let go of Eric and backed away, paling. “It’s over,” she said. “Nennez, kill him!”

  “No!” Eric shouted.

  Carlos started as Nennez turned to him, slowly lifting his knife for the kill. He met Carlos’s eyes, but his bottom lip was quivering. Nennez just stood there, the knife hovering.

  And so it all comes around, Carlos thought numbly. I am sorry, Father.

  But Nennez didn’t drive the knife into Carlos’s chest. Instead, he nodded.

  “A life for a life,” he said quietly.

  And then he cut Carlos’s bonds. Carlos watched as the vines fell to the ground, and he turned his hands over, astounded. When he looked up at Nennez again, he didn’t see hatred in the young boy’s eyes as before, but he did see fear.

  “Coward!” Jana shouted. “He’s a murderer!” She started toward him. “Do I have to—”

  The humming grew louder still, and the first beetles began to emerge from the deep.

  Twenty-Three and a Half Hours After

  * * *

  SILVIA STEPPED BACK AS THE ground came alive. It began to roil and move and quiver with activity as thousands of monstrous clacking beetles emerged like crude oil, spilling out across the chamber. She could feel the noise vibrating her bones.

  For a long moment, it seemed that she and Eric could only watch with morbid fascination. And then the King shouted, “Run!”

  His voice cut through the chamber, echoing over the terrible humming, and Silvia snapped into action. She tugged on Eric’s arm and turned to the tunnel, where the others were shouting for them to hurry. The Worms broke for the tunnel as well, streaming past her wildly and kicking beetles off their exposed bare feet.

  Silvia glanced back and saw Carlos scoop up the boy who had spared him, who had spilled onto the ground and was screaming. Carlos brushed off the beetles, slung him over his shoulder, and started running. All lines of battle were forgotten now—the group ran as one.

  Silvia felt the beetles crunching beneath her feet and then cried out as one bit into her leg. She batted it off and kept running, trying desperately to keep her balance on the pockmarked floor. Jana ran beside her, terror written on her face. But she was only there for a second. Her foot slipped into a crevice and she spilled forward.

  Silvia didn’t even think. She turned back and knocked the swarming beetles off a shrieking Jana’s face, grabbing her arms and heaving her up with every bit of strength she had.

  The two of them ran together, bursting into the tunnel where the others were waiting.

  “Go!” Silvia screamed.

  They turned to run, Tom and Derek hoisting Leonard between them, and the whole mass of surface- and cave-dwellers ran down the tunnel, flinging off the last beetles. The humming was fading behind them now, but nobody seemed willing to stop. Silvia soon found herself at the front of the group, and as she rounded a corner she slid to a halt.

  Eva stood there with her bow raised, flanked by at least twenty soldiers with bows, spears, and swords. A man stood at the front, his face scarred and weathered. He raised his right hand and pointed, his mouth opening with what was surely an order to kill them all, even as Eva raced forward to wave the soldiers off.

  “Now—” the scarred man said.

  “Stop!” a loud voice cut through, and the King pushed past Silvia, waving frantically. “Stand down. Jana, tell your people to drop their weapons.”

  The King’s soldiers lowered their bows, but only partly.

  Silvia saw Jana look around, surveying her options, and then nod. “Do it,” she said.

  Their weapons clattered to the stone, and Carlos led Silvia and the rest of the class forward, leaving the Worms to gather together in a protective circle. Silvia noticed the soldiers back away from the class fearfully before reforming to face the Worms.

  “Your Majesty,” the scarred man said, “the surface demons—”

  “Are not demons, as I told you, Captain Stupid,” Eva cut in, fuming. “You almost killed them!”

  Carlos laid a hand on her shoulder. “They helped me, Captain. They are friends.” He turned to the Worms. “We were nearly all killed by the Worms, however.”

  The soldiers raised their bows and spears again, and the Worms quailed together, looking ragged and pitiable. Except for Jana, who stood at the front, meeting the soldiers’ eyes coldly. Despite her bites, she looked proud.

  “The sentence is death,” Captain Salez said, his eyes hard. “On your order.”

  Silvia watched in horror as their bow strings tightened. It would be a massacre.

  Eric suddenly grabbed Carlos’s arm. “Hey,” he said. “You are not your father.”

  Carlos hesitated for a moment, and then he nodded. “No. I am not. Stand down,” he said, gesturing for the soldiers to lower their weapons.

  The scarred man turned to him. “But . . . the Law says—”

  “I am the King,” Carlos said somberly. “Stand down.”

  The men lowered their weapons, and Carlos walked toward Jana.

  “What is this?” Jana snarled. “You want to torture us first? I will not bow to you—”

  “There will be no torture,” Carlos said. “Just an apology.”

  Jana looked completely taken aback. “A . . . a what? I won’t apologize for—”

  Carlos stopped before her. “Not from you. From me. I spent my whole life trying to be like my father. It was all I ever wanted. I pictured him in everything that I did. But Nennez just gave me a precious gift. I am not my father. I am Carlos Santi, the fourth Midnight King. And I am sorry.”

  The Worms looked at each other, muttering. Jana just stared at him. “What?”

  “I am sorry. I am sorry that your families were sent away. I am sorry that so many of your people were executed. I am sorry that we have exiled you to starve. I am even sorry that we call you Worms. You are our brothers and sisters.”

  Silvia saw his soldiers looking bewildered. But Jana was even more confused.

  “But we have fought. I just tried— ”

  “To kill me. I remember,” he said wryly. “But when my forefathers exiled your people, we made our own enemies. By the same token, I wish to make my own friends.” He smiled. “I grant you access to the Black Lake and Ghost Woods. To anywhere you want to hunt. I invite you back into the Realm if you choose it, but I understand if you want to continue to live among yourselves. We will help you if we can.”

  Carlos raised his voice.

  “I forbid calling them Worms from this day forth. Let them go. All of them.”

  Jana stood there for a moment, as if expecting a trick. When none came, she started pushing her people away from the soldiers. As they slowly moved back up the corridor, Jana turned to Carlos. Some of the anger had slipped from her face.

  It made her look like a normal teenager again.

  “You’re right,” she murmured. “You are not your father, Carlos Santi. You are a better King.” She turned to Silvia. “And you, Silvia. Thank you. No demon would have saved my life. We were wrong, and maybe . . . maybe we have been wrong about many other things as well.”

  With that, she led the group away, and Eva rushed to her brother, embracing him.

  “I’m proud of you, big brother,” she said. “You became a real King today.”

  Silvia slumped in relief, and Eric leaned against the wall, wiping his face.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, glancing at her.

  “Yeah,” Silvia said. “I think I am.”

  Carlos put his sister down and turned to the class. He was no longer smiling.

  “You will all accompany me back to Medianoche. We have to talk.”

  Twenty-Five Hours After

  * * *

  THE CLASS SAT CLOSE TOGETHER
in what Carlos had called the Great Hall, lit by the flickering light of a great fire in the middle of the room. The missing students—Jordan, Greg, Naj, Brian, Shannon, and Joanne—had been found by the King’s soldiers and led back to the Great Hall, and though Eric noticed a little tension between Silvia’s group and Jordan’s, it faded almost instantly with the relief that everyone was alive. The soldiers had also searched for Mr. Baker, but had found no trace of him.

  Almost everyone was sitting or lying around the fire now, full and content for the first time in almost two days. But Eric was still nervous. Despite his order to come talk, Carlos had left soldiers at the doorway and disappeared without a word. Eric wondered what was wrong.

  He was deeply exhausted. Bowls of root vegetables and charred, stringy meat had been brought to them by Eva and her grandmother, and they had devoured the food hungrily. Eric tried not to think about the fact that he was probably eating Night Rat, though it was so delicious that he wasn’t really sure he cared.

  Silvia was leaning against the wall, the firelight playing on her face. Like the rest of them, she was covered in dirt and sweat. Her hair was as knotted and tangled as the vines in the woods. She had barely spoken since they were led here an hour ago.

  “Well, I think we have probably descended another five hundred yards,” Derek said.

  “Are you basing that on slope versus time or just a random guess?” Tom asked dryly.

  Leonard, whose ankle had been freshly wrapped with some sort of yellow leaves, yawned and stretched. “A complete and total guess. I am thinking more like a thousand yards . . . at least.”

  “You’re a meathead,” Derek said.

  “You’re a goalie; what do you know?” Leonard replied.

  “Hey, what did I say about that?”

  Eric chuckled and climbed to his feet, plopping down beside Silvia. Somehow their banter was comforting. It had been a while since he’d heard anything so . . . normal.

  But they made an important point: Carlos had never been to the explored sections, and the only way back was up the river. Could they even get back there? And more importantly, was Carlos going to allow them to leave? He had looked strangely somber on the way to Medianoche.

  “Enjoy your rat?” he asked, glancing over at her.

  “I prefer to think they have a herd of cows that I didn’t see on the way in.”

  Eric laughed. “Yeah, good call. It does feel good to sit down for a while.”

  “It feels amazing,” she agreed. “But I want to go home. What are we doing here? Do you think he’s going to let us go? How do we even get out?”

  “That’s a lot of questions,” Eric said.

  She smiled. “Sorry.”

  “He’s a good guy,” Eric said. “I think he will. But . . . he might be worried.”

  “About what?”

  “About his secret, about the people down here. I don’t think that he wants to be found.”

  Silvia glanced at him. “That sounds ominous.”

  “I know. But we have the whole class together. That’s a start.”

  “It is,” she said, laughing. “And look at you over here, Mr. Talkative.”

  “Yeah,” Eric said. “Somebody told me I should probably stop shutting everyone out.”

  “That sounds like a good idea,” she agreed.

  “What are you going to do when you get out?” Eric asked. “You know . . . first thing.”

  Silvia paused. “I think I am going to talk to my dad. I don’t want to keep secrets anymore, you know?”

  “What do you mean?” Eric asked.

  She fidgeted with her hands. “Oh. Nothing. Just in general.” She sighed. “No, I said I wasn’t going to do that anymore. I have some . . . mental things. Anxiety and panic. It’s . . . bad.”

  Silvia turned away, as if expecting him to laugh or move away. Eric frowned.

  “That’s okay. I had some problems when my dad left. So did my mom.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. She went to therapy and took some medications. It’s pretty common.”

  Silvia laughed. “You know, I haven’t even told Ashley that. I was too embarrassed.”

  “I guess you just needed to get lost in a cave for a few days.”

  “I guess so,” she said. “So how about you—”

  She stopped as Carlos strode into the room, joined on either side by Eva and his grandmother. Carlos stopped at the doorway, surveying the students with a somber expression. Eric felt a little flutter in his stomach. Carlos’s grandmother surveyed the food and smiled broadly.

  “I told you they would like my cooking,” she said.

  Eva sighed. “I just said they wouldn’t be used to it—”

  “I have been cooking for sixty years. I know what children like to eat.”

  “I thought you always said they were demons,” Eva said.

  “Shush now!” her grandmother snapped.

  Carlos exchanged a bemused look with Eric. To his surprise, Eric realized he thought of Carlos as a genuine friend—the first one he’d had since his dad left. And it was kind of nice.

  “I am sorry for the delay,” Carlos said. “But we have a problem that I had to consider.”

  The class straightened.

  “I have been taught for a long time not to trust others or to show mercy. But of late, I am starting to see things a little differently.” He smiled at Eric. “And so I will trust you, if you will agree to keep my people a secret.”

  There was a murmur around the room. Carlos held up his hands.

  “I know you will want to tell people. I know it would be a great discovery. Eric has told me this. But this has been a lot for my people. We are happy here, especially now that the war has ended. This is our home, and we do not want to share it. If you tell others, they will come. Our world will change. We do not wish this.” His dark eyes hardened. “I need you all to promise that you will keep our secret. It is ours alone to share.”

  “We will,” Eric said. “I promise.”

  Carlos smiled. “I need to hear it from everyone.”

  One by one, they went around the room, and everyone promised to keep it a secret.

  When they were finished, Eric stood up. “One thing,” he said. “If he’s okay, can we tell Mr. Baker? He will keep the secret, I promise you that. But trust me, he would love to know.”

  Carlos paused. “Okay. As long as you agree to make sure everyone keeps their word.”

  “Done.”

  “Is that the one you said was cute?” Carlos’s grandma asked, nudging Eva.

  “Grandma!” Eva hissed, flushing red.

  Carlos sighed. “Now, I suspect you would like to go home.”

  There was a chorus of agreement, and the entire class jumped to their feet.

  “How do we get out?” Eric asked. “Can we get back up at that river?”

  Carlos shook his head. “No, I am afraid not. The way you came is impassable.”

  The class slumped. Ashley looked like she was about to cry.

  But Carlos just smiled. “I borrowed something from you, Eric.”

  “What?” Eric replied, frowning.

  Carlos brought his hand from behind his back. He was holding Eric’s notebook.

  “How did you get that?” Eric said, looking at his bag.

  “We are very stealthy in the Midnight Realm,” he replied. “Here.”

  Eric stepped forward, and when he saw the gleam in Carlos’s eyes, he opened it up and laughed. “You even signed it.”

  “Of course,” Carlos said, giving him back his pen.

  Eric read it and frowned. “Carlos, what is the Sun Door?”

  Carlos and Eva exchanged a smile. “The way we came in. And now, one hundred and eighteen years later, we will open it to let you all out.”

  * * *

  With a great heave, the soldiers rolled the boulder a mere two feet to the right, letting brilliant sunlight spill into the caves. They shouted and backed away from the line of sunlight tha
t split the chamber in two. The class immediately stepped into it, bathing in the warmth. Carlos and Eva watched with wide, disbelieving eyes, and Eric laughed as Eva tentatively stepped forward to touch the light.

  “It doesn’t burn,” she said in wonder. “It actually feels kind of nice.”

  “Carlos?” Eric said, gesturing for him to try.

  Carlos shook his head. “Just the sight is enough for me. Maybe one day.”

  Silvia hugged Carlos and Eva, and then smiled at Eric and left him to say his goodbyes as the class began climbing through the narrow doorway into the waiting desert.

  “You know which way to walk?” Carlos asked.

  Eric nodded. “I think so. The visitor center should be east of here. The sun will show us.”

  “Good,” Carlos said. He hesitated, and then stepped forward and hugged him. “I will always remember the day I saw a white light approach me from across the water. I have changed much since then. The entire Realm has. If you ever decide to come visit, you are welcome any time. But I cannot promise we will leave you alone. We could always use a bright mind in Medianoche.”

  Eric smiled. “I wouldn’t have it. You are a good King, Carlos Santi. Your own King.”

  Carlos smiled, and Eric turned to Eva. To his surprise, her eyes looked a little glassy.

  “Are you crying?” he asked incredulously.

  “No!” she said, punching him in the arm. “I was just starting to like you, Surface Boy.”

  He gave her a hug, and then she roughly wiped her eyes.

  “Enjoy your demon world,” she said sullenly.

  “You two are welcome any time,” Eric replied. “And until then, we will keep your secret.”

  “Thank you,” Carlos said.

  Eric squeezed through the opening, and Eva poked her head out behind him. She squinted, looking up at the sky in wonder. “Okay . . . that’s just terrifying,” she said. “Take care of yourself. Make some friends. Maybe even that pretty girl with the black hair. See you . . . Eric.”

  Eric laughed. “Finally.”

  She stepped back, and the boulder was rolled into place. From this side, it was simply an innocuous rock face tucked into the landscape, lined with brush and cacti and sandstone walls.