by Nely Cab
“Found it,” Galilea said proudly. She lit the candle and stuck it in the opening of an empty bottle. “Hold this.” She handed me the improvised candleholder. She stepped to the middle of the room, took the shovel, and began to dig.
“Galilea?”
“Yeah?” She threw a shovel-full of dirt over her shoulder.
“What…um…are you doing?”
“It’s called digging.”
“Yes, I’m aware.” I sucked air in through my teeth as a drop of wax landed on my hand. “But why are you doing it—here?
“Reasons.”
“I get the feeling you want me to stop talking.”
“You catch on quick.” She shot me a pointed stare.
Fine. I huffed.
I felt useless and restless just standing there, watching Galilea drop shovel after shovel of dirt onto the growing mound beside her. I skimmed the shed and saw a garden hoe hanging on the wall. I lifted it off the hook and placed the candle on a wooden box near me. I raised the hoe and dug it into the hole Galilea had formed.
“Thanks,” she said. I nodded in return.
We dug quietly, taking short breaks in between. When the hole was almost three feet deep and wide enough to hold Galilea and me, our digging instruments hit something hard, a metallic clang breaking the silence.
CHAPTER 27
Galilea threw the shovel over the edge of the hole. I did the same with the garden hoe. She dropped to her knees and began to paw dirt away with her hands, and then stood up and grabbed the candle from the box at the edge of the pit. The color of bronze gleamed from under the remaining dirt. She shoved the candle in my hands and continued to wipe away soil. Slowly, the bronze surface took the shape of a square. A circle with oddly placed hollow half circles and raised solid circles appeared in the middle of the metallic area. Galilea studied the shapes, and then reached for one of the circles. Using two fingers, she slid the cylinder out until it came to a stop. She turned it, and it clicked.
I tapped her arm, pointed at the square, and narrowed my eyes.
“You’ll see,” she replied.
Galilea stood up, and then bent over, taking the cylinder with both hands. She pulled on it, grinding her teeth as she fought with the bar. Metal against metal screeched. A puff of dusty air hissed from the cracks, making Galilea and me cough. Galilea tugged on the bar again, this time groaning as she pulled. A side of the square metal slab gave way. She opened it like a door. I doubted this was any plain door, however. Where did it lead?
Galilea took the candle from me and held it down the shaft. She peeked her head into the opening. She whistled once, producing an echo into the unknown hollow beneath us. The echo died, and a few seconds of silence passed. I waited to see what would happen. Suddenly, two whistles rose from the opening.
“Who’s that?” I asked louder than I intended to.
“Shh!” Galilea frowned. “C’mon. You go first.”
“Why me?” I whispered in protest.
“Just trust me. Do you want to see if David and your mom are all right or not?”
She knew the answer. I sat at the edge of the opening, my feet dangling in the nothingness.
“Do I just jump in?” I asked.
“Of course not. It’s a twelve-foot drop, silly. I’ll lower you down as far as I can.”
“A twelve-foot drop—into what?”
“You ask too many questions. But if it makes you feel better, it’s perfectly safe in there.” She gave me a reassuring nod. “Promise.”
Galilea clasped my wrists with a firm grip, and I did the same to hers. I eased over the edge of the entrance, and she helped me slide down the square hole. I gave her a wary look as she lowered me.
“Don’t drop me,” I said.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”
I tightened my grip on her wrists as I reached eyelevel with what must’ve been the frame to the square door. My stomach tensed. I glanced up at Galilea as I sank deeper into the dark hole. I felt a pair of hands wrap around my ankles and pull. I gasped.
“Got ‘er,” a male voice said.
Galilea released her grip. I plummeted down, letting out a screamed as I fell through the air. I thought I’d hit the floor, but a pair of arms caught me before I did.
“It’s okay. It’s okay,” the faceless voice said, setting me down. “I’m here to help.”
Was this who the whistles had come from earlier? It had to be. No one else was here—at least no one else I could see, because all I could see was pitch-blackness.
“I’ll be right down,” Galilea’s voice came from above. “Step aside.”
An invisible hand grabbed my arm and guided me several steps back. Seconds later, I heard the bang of metal colliding with metal, and then I perceived an unseen thump landing near me.
“You guys okay?” Galilea asked.
“We’re good,” the male voice answered before I could. A bright light came to life in the middle of the gloom. Holding the handheld lamp was a young man with slanted eyes. Or maybe the lamp’s bright glare was making him squint, like I was. An enviable set of cheekbones rose high on his face as he said, “Welcome to Sub Terra, ladies.”
Galilea stepped forward and hugged him. He kissed her cheek and lingered there for a bit until Galilea broke their embrace. There was a bashful look on Galilea’s face as she gave me a side-glance, but she immediately turned her eyes back to the long-haired man. After a moment of watching them stare at each other, I cleared my throat.
“Oh. Right.” Galilea turned to me. “Isis, this is Frederick. He’s our guide.”
Frederick. Why did the name sound familiar?
“You’re an underground guide?” I asked him.
“Of sorts,” Frederick said. “A pleasure, Madam Isis, beloved of David of Chios.” He extended his hand, and I shook it. “Let’s not waste time. Galilea’s told me how impatient you can be. Follow me, please.”
What else had she told this guy about me? I glared at Galilea, though I doubted she could see my face.
Frederick walked into the gloom. Galilea and I followed close behind. I couldn’t see much beyond the two feet the light in his hand illuminated. It looked like the walls in the tunnel were nothing but dirt. What were the chances of it caving in on us?
“I assume it’s okay for me to talk now?” I asked Galilea.
“If you must,” Galilea said.
“Why are we underground?”
“It’s safer than walking aboveground. Down here,” Galilea explained, “it’s like you’ve been wiped off the face of the Earth. Best part is I can rest my block and build up my strength for unexpected surprises.”
“And why are you just now telling me this?” I tripped over a rock, and Galilea caught my arm. “We could’ve been hiding down here this whole time.”
“Surrounded by dirt and earthworms?” She laughed. “No thanks.”
“Drastic times call for drastic measures,” I said. “I’m sure you’ve heard it before.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not as simple as you think. Frederick is risking his life by doing this for us. Plus, I had a complication arise.”
Frederick stopped and turned to face us. He lifted the lamp to Galilea’s face. “By complication, you’re referring to the gargantuan, idiot ex-boyfriend and not me, right?”
“I wasn’t talking about either of you. Frederick. You’re much too insecure,” Galilea told him.
“I wouldn’t call myself insecure. Jealous, maybe.” Frederick turned around and walked ahead. We quickened our pace to catch up to him and walked in silence.
Suddenly, it hit me, and I remembered where I’d heard his name before. The night I overheard Galen and Galilea arguing in her room, she’d told Galen about Frederick. He didn’t believe her. To be honest, neither did I. That was the night the Turpis attack left David in a coma. David…
“Are we going to the estate?” I asked.
“Under it,” Frederick answered. “But first, we fetch Milly.”
> “And she would be who?” I wondered.
“It’s what he calls his car,” Galilea said. “It’s a sweet ride, too.”
“Must be a tiny car.”
“What?” Frederick glanced back at me. “Why would you think that, madam?”
“There’s no way a car would fit in this tunnel. It’s so narrow I’m starting to feel claustrophobic.”
“Oh.” Fredrick stopped his stride. “Sorry. I’ll fix that for you.” He lifted the lamp to the soil wall, and it pulled away. I could see it happening, but my brain couldn’t understand how it was possible. The soil wall wasn’t disappearing, but somehow receding. But to where? In seconds, there was an arm’s length more space in the tunnel. “Better, madam?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “Much better. Thank you.”
Frederick turned toward the darkness ahead.
“He’s lovely, isn’t he?” Galilea gushed as we walked. “So thoughtful.”
“Yeah, sure,” I said. “How did he make the walls widen?”
“I don’t know how I do it, madam,” Frederick said without turning to look back. “I just can.”
“Hey, um… Frederick, could you do one more thing for me?” I asked.
“If it’s within my power, yes.”
“Could you not call me, ‘madam’? My name is Isis.”
Frederick stopped and looked over his shoulder. He said, “I suppose I can,” and resumed walking. “But it makes me uncomfortable.”
“You feel uncomfortable calling me by my name?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Soldiers don’t address their leader by their first name,” Galilea explained. “It’s customary to use a suitable title.”
“What does it have to do with—” And it dawned on me. “Oh. No. You’ve got this all wrong. I’m no one’s leader. Galilea, tell him.”
“You don’t have to be modest.” Frederick cast the lamp’s glow on me. “Madam, my—”
“Isis,” I interrupted. “It’s just Isis.”
“No. It’s Madam Isis from now on,” he countered. “I vowed to fight for you and for your cause.” He waved at my pregnant stomach. “It’s not fitting I call my leader by her first name. Don’t expect me to do it—especially not in the presence of the rest. If the commanding officer doesn’t show respect toward you, neither will your army.”
The gears and cogs in my head turned, but the more I thought, the more Frederick’s words confused me. What in the Sam Hill was he talking about?
“I’m sorry, but—what?” I asked.
“She doesn’t know?” Frederick raised his brow at Galilea.
“The only thing I know is the more you talk about whatever you’re talking about, the less I understand,” I said. “And Galilea, why do I get the feeling you’ve been scheming behind my back?”
She shrugged. “Your excellent inference skills?”
“What’s going on, Galilea?” My angry pregnancy hormones kicked in. “Why didn’t you tell me about Frederick and about this plan?”
“You’re too emotional with the pregnancy, with David’s health. I didn’t want you to worry more. It’s not good for—”
“For the baby. Thanks. I’ve got that one down to a T. But still…”
“It was an escape plan in case the Turpis found you. I couldn’t say anything up there—on the surface—without the risk of sabotaging it. What if they were listening?”
“Okay. You’ve got a point there. But what’s this talk about an army?” I asked.
“Wait, wait.” Frederick raised his index finger. “You’re joking—right?” He glanced between Galilea and me. “You do know who I am?”
“I don’t even know what I’m doing here. How am I supposed to know who you are?”
He frowned at Galilea. She gave him an apologetic look in return.
“Tell me something,” Frederick said. “Do you know how to fight? Have you ever been in a battle?”
Galilea snorted. “I wouldn’t call it fighting. Kitty clawing would be a good description.”
“Hey!” I said. “I’m still alive. I’ve done okay so far.”
“Galilea…” Frederick pinched the bridge of his nose. “Darling, you said she was the Marker of Hope. You said she knew about the war.”
“The war, I know about,” I said. “It’s the Marker of Hope thing I’m debating.”
“Debating?” Frederick snorted. “Great. Wonderful,” he said. “We have an unconvinced leader who can neither lead nor fight. Anything else I need to know?”
“There is one tiny, teeny thing I didn’t mention before,” Galilea said. “It’s nothing, really.” She glanced at me. “Just a minor detail.”
Crap. Frederick didn’t know I was Creatura.
“I don’t know,” I said. “It’s been a pretty major pain in the ass for me.”
“What has?” Frederick asked.
“Uh… We can talk it over later. Let’s get going. We have to get to the others.” Galilea took the lamp from Frederick’s hand and walked ahead of us. “We’ve wasted enough time down here.”
“Oh no you don’t.” He caught up to Galilea and stopped her in her tracks. “You wouldn’t have brought it up if it wasn’t important. I need to know what I’m up against. Tell me.”
“I will,” she said. “As soon as we get out of here. Cross my heart.”
I honestly didn’t care if Galilea told Frederick I was Creatura right then or later. The urgency to get out of that cave and to my family was wearing me thin.
We followed Galilea deeper into the tunnel until we reached a fork. Frederick signaled her to take the passage on the right. Just a short distance ahead, I saw light. We walked into a room—or cave—with no less than twenty monitors hanging on one of the walls. Off to the side stood a bright green, roofless vehicle. Having walked through darkness for so long, the color was all the more blinding. And I’d never seen a car with six tires before.
“I like what you’ve done with the place,” Galilea said, looking around.
“Thanks.” Frederick glanced at me. “I hope it’s to your liking, as well, madam?”
“It’s Isis,” I corrected him once again. “And it looks good—I think. I’m not sure what it’s supposed to be.”
“Our surveillance area. I’ll be monitoring you from down here. Strictly for security measures.” He clicked on a button, and the monitors went from white fuzz to black-and-white pictures of the dark forest. “I’m sorry about the cameras. The equipment isn’t the most sophisticated. But it’ll do—for now. We’re in the process of installing new ones. Also, there aren’t any cameras on the premises of the estate yet. But as soon as you give the order, I’ll set them up.”
“I don’t like the idea of being watched around the clock,” I said. “That’s beyond creepy.”
“It’s for your safety,” Frederick contested. “And for your child’s. If there’s an attack, we’ll have a plan in place, be ready, like today.”
“You know he’s right,” Galilea said. “We need all the help we can get. I’m not doing too hot these days.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “This is a little too much for me. I mean, I don’t even know this guy, and he wants to watch me on his cameras like some kind of lab monkey.”
“I’m a warrior. And I can assure you I’m a fit commander, direct descendent of Athena. Strategic war tactics are in my blood.” He walked to the car and ran his finger across the hood. “I also have knowledge of valuable information. Information you’d find very interesting and perhaps life-saving.”
“You’ve been keeping secrets from me,” Galilea said to him. “What sort of information?”
“Just a minor detail. I’ll tell you later,” he said in a mocking tone. “Cross my heart.”
Galilea crossed her arms. “Oh, so we’re playing that game, yeah? What will it take to make you talk, Freddy?”
“How about a kiss?” Frederick grinned. “Then, maybe, I’ll think about it.”
&nb
sp; Galilea touched her fingers to her lips and blew out a puff of air in Frederick’s direction.
“Nope,” he said. “Not good enough.”
“Uh, Frederick.” I interrupted their flirting. “You’re going to have to tell me whatever it is you’re holding back.”
“Tell me what you’re withholding from me, and I will.”
“Nope,” Galilea said. “Isis knows better than to bargain with someone she’s barely met.”
“If it gets us out of here any faster, I’ll tell you,” I said. “I’m not as human as I look. I’m Creatura.”
“Or not.” Galilea sighed.
Frederick gawked at me with what I imagined to be disbelief.
“Your turn. Tell me what you know,” I said.
He took a moment to compose himself, and then he said, “It’s the Council who want you dead. They’ve formed an allegiance with the Turpis.”
CHAPTER 28
“The Council knows about me?” I asked.
“Not all the members,” Frederick said.
Galilea placed a hand on Frederick’s tone, olive arm. “How many know?”
“Seven, maybe eight. But let me clarify,” he said to me. “They know you’re the Marker of Hope. They don’t know you’re…”
“Creatura,” I finished his sentence. “But if they don’t know I’m Creatura, then why do they want me dead?”
“Because the changes the child you’re carrying will bring aren’t in their best interest.”
I knit my brow. “Meaning?”
“You know the story, don’t you—about the Marker of Hope?” he asked. I nodded. “Well, what happens when humans become so like us, like the gods they once praised? Mankind gets a step up in evolution, while deities remain the same.”
“Wait.” Galilea gasped. “Are you saying there’s a rebellion underway?”
“I’m saying,” Frederick breathed, “the uprising has, in fact, begun.”
“But why? This change, it’s a good thing,” I told him. “Your kind will remain the same, but humans will become more aware of their flaws and fix their mistakes. I’ve been told future generations will end wars. There’ll be no famine.” I touched my stomach. “Isn’t this what we all want, a world where our children—where we—can all live in peace?”