“So you’re saying that old necklace from my parents is the key to ending all of this? Seems a bit far-fetched, don’t you think?”
Dain nodded. “If I hadn’t experienced what I did, I’d be saying the same thing.”
Tars simply nodded, lifting the lute into his lap and plucking at the strings. “I’ll have to trust you. So, who’s the rightful bearer? My sister?”
“Not according to the old mer-woman—apparently, I have to follow my dreams to find out.”
A corner of Tars’s mouth quirked up. “You should get some sleep then.”
Dain laughed. “I suppose I should, but maybe after you play me a tune?”
He didn’t have to ask twice; Dain knew the man preferred music to talking. Tars plunged into a lively folk tune, the kind sailors love to hear after a long, harrowing day at sea. Dain stared at his friend while he listened, toe tapping in response to the rhythm. It was uncanny how much the musician resembled his sister. He had the same chestnut curls and freckled skin, but it was the extra dash of green in his hazel eyes and his sharply defined jaw that set their faces apart.
Dain sighed. Much like his chest hurt for Hannon while he told Tars his tale, it ached equally as hard for Sable now. Despite the soul connection forged with the merrow, nothing had shifted in his devotion to Sable. She was, and always would be, his first love—his first choice. He didn’t think it would ever feel entirely easy; a part of him would always remain in the sea now, but if the Dernamn was the key to saving Sable, to saving them all, the sacrifice had been worth making.
Tars finished his tune, cradling the lute like a baby. “Another, Captain?”
“Yes, another.”
18
The rain pelted against Sable’s cheeks while sticks, rocks, and roots reached, with every pounding step, to trip her. The weather had quickly diluted whatever was left of the Harborage in her hair, and the stalkers had sensed her the minute it washed away. It’d been sooner than expected, and their pursuit was relentless. They’d been on the run for more than half a day, and Sable was constantly giving thanks that Elden had allowed her an entire week to recover. Still—how much longer could her legs last?
She felt Idris’s glare burrowing into the back of her neck as they continued to plunge through the thick forest bracken after Elden. She tugged hard on the rope that bound the stumbling boy to her waist, urging him to keep up the pace. His breathing sounded ragged through the gag tied around his mouth. It was a necessary evil. They couldn’t risk the child giving them away.
Steel-on-stone screams echoed through the trees behind them.
Sable shivered.
The hunters had to be less than a span away now, and they’d need to find a place to hide, quick. Before she could call out, Elden dodged left, veering fast around the base of a wide cedar. Sable struggled to make the slippery turn as she felt Idris struggling more. When they did round the trunk, she only caught a glimpse of Elden’s head as it disappeared into the forest floor. In confusion she stopped, heaving as she stared down at the seemingly solid ground.
A hand grasped her ankle, then one hard yank dragged her under.
Sable had no time to scream.
Idris’s muffled cries could be heard behind her as they slid through a slick, muddy canal, the pace increasing as the world grew black. When the slide ended, Sable found herself free-falling through darkness. She clenched her eyes tight, willing the drop to be short as she tucked her knees to her chest and prepared to roll. The ground came up fast, meeting her right shoulder in a cushioned blow before she rolled along a moist carpet of moss. She heard Idris grunt as he hit the moss shortly after, the rope tied between them tugging him fast in her direction. She stumbled to her feet as Elden’s strong hand clasped her own, dragging her, with Idris in tow, over the spongey moss.
A soft orange glow burgeoned low in the darkness ahead. Sable began to make out the short stone walls around them—they were in an underground cave.
The glow brightened further, and Elden plunged to his knees.
Sable followed form, crawling behind him. It wasn’t long before she realized where the light was coming from, and the revelation made her stomach convulse. Lining the close rock walls on either side, twisting over and around one another, were worms—countless glowing worms. And the farther they traveled, the larger, fatter, and brighter the creatures became. Sable tried to ignore the slimy, undulating bodies, fixing her eyes on Elden’s crawling form ahead, but her peripheral vision continually betrayed her. She had to stifle multiple gags.
Sable felt Idris hesitate behind her, a ceasing tug on the rope that slowed their progress. She yanked at the tether, but it took the boy a moment to resume the crawl. Perhaps he wasn’t pleased about the worms himself; either way, the tunnel was too narrow for her to turn back and check. Her hands and knees began to sting, but she ignored the pain, gritting her teeth against it as she listened intently. Besides Idris and Elden’s noises, there was—silence. She no longer heard the stalker’s eery, high-pitched screams. Elden had sworn he knew every inch of this forest; he’d promised to get them to safety. She’d doubted his claims. After all, the man had been a statue for over two hundred years, and a lot could’ve changed. Now, however, in this quiet, albeit dank, underground world, she was starting to think that maybe he’d delivered on his word.
The tunnel slope grew steep, and even in her chilly, rain-soaked clothes, Sable began to sweat. How deep in the ground were they going? She felt Idris struggling behind her again, but she still couldn’t turn to look. With hope that the stalkers had actually been evaded, Sable risked a whisper. “Is the tunnel much longer, Elden?”
The huntsman had resorted to a belly crawl now, but he didn’t slow his pace as he answered, “We’re almost there.”
It wasn’t long after that the walls around them widened, and Elden was able to return to his hands and knees. Sable was thankful that the worms seemed to be thinning out—or was it more like they were clumping? A further look ahead confirmed it. The creatures were congregating into globes of orange light as the walls widened. To give her hands and knees reprieve, Sable pushed herself into a crouching walk and finally turned back to check on Idris. The child could almost stand upright in the tunnel now, his dirty white hair glowing in the orange worm light. His arms were still tied firmly to his sides, but he’d somehow managed to work the gag out of his mouth. Her chest tightened as she realized that the boy had been belly crawling without the use of his arms—no wonder he’d sounded so terrible behind her. If only he could be trusted, then the bindings could come off… Sable bit her lip, turning away when Idris met her gaze.
The tunnel ended in a full opening now, and it was impossible not to let out a small sigh of relief. She heard Idris echo her sentiment seconds later. Elden stood silhouetted in the opening for a brief moment before he jumped, disappearing from sight. Sable was quickly upright, running on stiff legs as hot gusts of air billowed toward her. Despite the heat, the air smelled clean, almost fresh. When she reached the lip, she saw a short drop-off, only a bit taller than a man, to the cave floor below. Elden had landed safely, but the floor he now stood upon wasn’t like anything she’d seen before. The ground under the huntsman’s boots looked more like crystal than regular stone. It was beautiful. Just as Idris reached her side, she shifted her gaze upward, and both she and the boy sucked air through their teeth at the sight.
Gigantic crystals of varying pastel hues hung from the ceiling and jutted from the floor of the temple-like cavern beyond. The translucent stones glinted in the orange glow of copious worm domes, and the cavern went on for spans. Deeper down, through the center of what looked like crystal badlands, ran a river of winding turquoise. If someone had told her places like this existed, she never would’ve believed it.
Elden looked up at her, the warm brown of his eyes orange in the underground lighting. “Lower Idris down with the rope. Then jump to me—I’ll catch you.”
Sable did as she was told, and once out of Elde
n’s grasp, she ran her fingers over the nearest stone in awe. “What is this place?”
The huntsman led them through a small forest of conical crystals while he spoke. “When I was a boy, I called it Orthane’s Dome, but I don’t think this place has any religious significance.” He looked up at the dripping, gem-like stones above. “I think these kinds of wonders just grow and form under the earth all the time. This place has even changed since I saw it last—everything is bigger, more grand.”
Despite the wonder before her, Sable looked to their guide for reassurance. “Do you think we’re safe?”
Elden glanced over his shoulder. “You may not have realized it when we fell, but we are a long way underground. There are spans of rock and soil between us and the hunters now. I honestly don’t know how they could sense you this far away, although I’m the first to admit I know little about those demons. To be safe, we’ll apply what’s left of that potion once your hair is dry.”
A shiver of relief coursed through Sable. Elden was right—the layers of rock and earth should mask something, hopefully. She nodded while trying to imagine what kind of a state her hair must be in, then threw a side-eyed glimpse at the boy walking alongside her. If Idris’s appearance was any indication, then she was a complete mess. When she turned back to the huntsman, she couldn’t help rolling her eyes. He was just as filthy as they were, but he somehow managed to stay ruggedly handsome through it all. It reminded Sable of Casper and Ileana; there probably wasn’t a situation you could throw them into where they didn’t come out looking more attractive on the other side. The thought made her laugh out loud.
Elden’s eyes widened slightly, then he smiled. “There it is. I cannot tell you how happy I am to hear that sound again, my Lady. Though I fear you might be laughing at me.”
Sable tilted her head, giving him a reprimanding look. “We discussed this—my name is Sable, not my Lady.” Then she fumbled over her next words. “And no—well yes—well not really—it just struck me that we’re all quite filthy.”
Elden looked down at himself, then up again to give her a warm, swoon-worthy grin. “Indeed we are.” Sable rolled her eyes internally this time as he said, “Good thing there’s fresh water down here; I must be a terrible eyesore.”
Why is it that the most beautiful people in the world don’t often know they are? she thought, shaking her head.
The water felt nearly as warm as the air—it seemed everything down here must be heated by some kind of underground spring. Sable waded all the way in, relishing the sensation. Elden had taken Idris to a different pool, well out of sight, and it was the first time she’d been alone in weeks. The privacy was delicious, and the bath was luxurious. She’d never been given more than a small bowl of cold water in her cell at the fortress, and before that, living on board The Maiden, she’d only had sponge baths. Now, as the dirt sloughed off her skin, Sable tried to let go of everything she’d endured. She’d had plenty of years of practice dealing with trauma—an entire childhood, in fact—and she was practical enough to know that things were not likely to get easier, especially once they surfaced again. So, she forced herself to focus on the good, on the things that would give her strength right now. It was a miracle that she’d been rescued, a miracle that she’d been given a chance to return to the ones she loved. She tipped her chin toward the glittering, cathedral-like ceiling. I am safe in this moment. I am free—
Her meditation was interrupted by a sudden cry downriver. Sable couldn’t see them, but she could hear Idris screaming while Elden laughed. “You’re going in, there’s no two ways about it. I won’t let you drown; I’ve got a tight grip on the rope.” A loud splash reverberated through the cavern, followed by sputtering protests. Sable couldn’t resist a grin. The boy had been forced to come with them, and she knew he resented her for it, but she’d also seen some lines of relief etched into his expression during their more peaceful moments in the recovery cave. The child was probably torn between the joy of being free of the emperor, and the guilt of leaving his sister behind. Sable’s smile faded—poor Idris. When Elden and the witch had come for her, she just couldn’t leave him to be tormented. She’d reasoned through her choices, and she hoped the emperor had no purpose for torturing Idris’s sister now—what good would it do with no one there to be affected by it? Hopefully the girl was better off without her brother nearby. Hopefully.
Sable dunked her head under the water, vigorously scrubbing at her hair. In the past, for the sake of constant travel, she’d always kept her hair cropped short, but while living on The Maiden, she’d let it grow. Dain seemed to love curling his fingers through it, and because of that, she couldn’t bring herself to cut it again. The chestnut curls hung just at her shoulders now, a thick curtain of waves—full of mud. When she finally broke the surface again, the water surrounding her had turned a gruesome brown. She groaned in disgust. It took several more dives before the water ran clear.
In the warmth of the cavern, there was no need for a fire, but there was no wood to gather for one anyway. And as far as Sable knew, there were no animals to hunt besides worms, so while their wet clothes clung to their bodies, they sat nibbling the provisions stowed in their only sack. The aged cheese must have been stolen from the fortress larders by the witch—it tasted faintly of mold, but Sable ate it anyway. Ever since she’d woken in the cave a week past, her mind had turned the witch’s motives over and over again. It didn’t make any sense.
Sable fixed her eyes on the orange light flickering across the river’s surface as she thought out loud. “I still don’t understand. I saw the witch turn those adept into stalkers—she didn’t even hesitate. So why save us? Why hamper the emperor’s plans when she seems so eager to serve him?”
She heard Elden swipe the crumbs off his fingers before unsheathing one of his many knives, sharpening it in a quick rhythm. “She told me once that she was a prisoner. She seemed sincere.”
Sable glanced over at the huntsman. “But she moves freely around the fortress. You told me yourself that we practically walked right out of there because no guard opposed her.”
He shrugged. “I wish I could tell you more, my—er—Sable, but that’s all I know. She never even gave me her name.” Elden stared out at the water while his blade ran back and forth along the sharpening stone. “Either way, I owe her a great debt for my freedom.”
Sable supposed she did as well, but it was still hard to trust the motives behind it all. Her attention turned to Idris. The silent boy was shoving his rations into this mouth like there’d be no tomorrow. Her lips quirked up at his earnestness. The witch had told Elden the boy was made, and that, just like the stalkers, Sable wouldn’t be able to shift him. She hadn’t tested the theory, it was too risky, but she did wonder whether or not it was true. Besides the ancient gleam to his eyes at times, the boy behaved like any other child. However, she’d seen the same unnerving gaze in Leara An’s eyes as well—perhaps they were both made? The witch had said other things were being made as well. She’d told Elden to look to the skies, and Sable was pretty sure she was talking about the creature that had abducted her from Aalta. It made her shiver to think of how many there might be. With an army of flying monsters, the sea would never be safe again.
She wanted to ask Elden more, but she figured he knew as much about the new creatures as he did about the witch. She continued to stare at Idris instead. The boy had barely spoken a dozen phrases to her since they’d escaped, most of the time just grunting or ignoring her entirely. Her eyes wandered to his bound wrists. Elden would be tying them by his sides again when he finished eating. His arms must be getting sore. Maybe…
Sable stood, her damp skirts clinging to her thighs as she walked toward the child. She kept a safe distance, smart enough to be wary of his reach as she said, “Do you want me to untie you, Idris?”
The boy’s eyes flicked toward her.
Elden stopped sharpening his knife. “It’s not safe—she warned us…”
Sable made a stop
ping motion toward the huntsman. Apparently the man trusted her enough, because he didn’t protest again as she continued, “The way I see it, Idris, you have two choices. You can either come with us or return to the emperor. I’m sure Valir would be happy to take you back, and put you into another cell—that is, after he’d tortured you alongside your sister.” Her words had the desired effect. Idris leaped to his feet, the rope tethering him to a crystal keeping him just out of reach.
He spit out the food in his mouth. “Don’t you dare talk about my sister!”
“Why not?”
“She’s—she’s—” The boy’s entire frame was shaking against his restraints, but he couldn’t seem to form another word.
Sable saw the guilt in the tears now lining his eyes, and her throat squeezed as she spoke again. “She’s not here, Idris, and there’s nothing you can do about it, but there might be a way that you can save her—one day.”
The boy glared at her through his tears. “I don’t trust you. You tricked me, you—betrayed me.”
Sable’s fists went to her hips. “And the emperor treated you so much better?”
He said nothing.
“You don’t have to trust me, Idris, but you do have to make the best decision for your sister right now. Be practical—how is returning to the emperor going to help her? Is it going to change anything?” He dropped her gaze, looking sullenly toward the river as Sable continued. “You’re smart enough to know that it isn’t. In fact, your sister’s probably better off without you there. So again, you have two choices. Which one will it be?”
19
There was a time when Dain cared nothing for The Maiden, when all he wanted to do was get away from the sea and start a new life on land. Today, however, he ignored the pretty port rippling with life behind him, focusing instead on the green, gold-trimmed galleon just ahead of the rowboat. His chest ached at the sight—Sable was still missing—but it would be good to be home.
The Lion of the Sea (The Maiden Ship Book 2) Page 11