I freeze, listen hard. Screeches and squeals fill my ears. From inside the—what? I look around. A cave. One of the Zharat caves? More screeches, and then a fluttering sound.
“Just the bats,” Jed says. “They seek safety here too. Come on. Be careful in case a porcupine is sheltering at the side.” He pauses, and I hear other voices, but farther away—the others? “The gorillas most likely will not be here. They stay away from the tubes in the Turnings.”
Jed drags me forward, and I barely save myself from stumbling. I don’t know how he can walk with his injured thigh, or see where we’re going. I can’t see a thing. It’s just darkness—inkiness that fogs everything.
I turn my head, look back up, outside. The sky’s purple. I can see it, and then Jed pulls me around a corner, cutting me off from that glimpse of sky. My right shoulder catches against something hard, and I grunt—it’s my bad shoulder—but there are voices now. Lots of voices. Men’s. And—and there’s light again. I squint at the moving, luminous beam.
“Is there anyone else?” someone shouts.
“No,” Jed yells. “We are the last.”
No? No one else? The last… My chest stutters. What about…what about Corin?
I start to turn, but Jed’s too strong. Far too strong—how can he even be walking, let alone this strong? And then—then we’re with the other people.
A man shines an electric torch around, lighting up faces in jagged angles. I see Manning first. See him transfer Esther to another man and tell him to take her to the healers, that they need to be careful with her because she’s weak and infected, and that she shouldn’t be disturbed until she is better. Then everyone’s around us, around me and Jed, and they’re talking.
My heart pounds frantically. I feel sick.
“This way!”
Someone prods me in the back, rather hard, and I try to speed up as I look around, ahead, blinking against the harsh light, and—
Corin.
He’s there, rushing toward Manning, and his shouts fill the tube, echoing strangely as he yells after his sister.
“You’ll see her after the healers have finished, not before,” Manning says. “I’ll tell you when—”
Jed screams.
I whirl around. Spirits! Oh Gods, they’ve followed us in—we’re trapped. Trapped. Trapped.
My vision blurs with the movement, and I can’t process it, can’t work it out, can’t keep up.
Jed sinks to the floor, yelling. His face contorts under the dazzle of a torch. I look around, getting ready for the spirits, for the energy, the skulls. My heart pounds even harder, and I feel sweat drip down my back, sticking my shirt to my skin. I clench my fists.
“Murderer!” a female voice shrieks.
And then there’s more screaming and movement, grunts and yells.
Extra torches light up and whirl around through the air, throwing streams of brightness everywhere, but I can’t take anything in. I blink hard, nearly trip, but someone grabs my arm.
“Murderer!”
“Stop her!” one of the men shouts. I recognize his voice, but—
Someone crashes into me, and I start to stumble, but right myself. Then I see Jed, he’s sprawled on the floor, groaning. Above him, is a knife. A big knife. And a tall woman dressed in green holds it, purposefully pointing it at Jed.
I try to shrink back, away from the woman whose face looks like an angry spirit, but there’s nowhere to go, so I press my back against the stone wall and try not to breathe.
A second later, the woman turns on another man, but he backhands her, and she cries out in a tinny voice. Then there’s more movement—movement I can’t process.
“Clare!”
Manning’s voice. He’s suddenly beside Jed, on the floor.
The woman—Clare—throws herself down on Jed, screaming. Hair flies out. Blood sprays, splatters.
“You murderer! She didn’t do nothin’! How could you? You’re all murderers—”
I see the hand shoot out before I register what’s about to happen. A loud slap. And then Clare’s on the ground, on her stomach. More movement. I can’t process it. It’s the spirits—must be—they’re still messing with me. I blink hard, try to clear my head. But everything’s pounding inside it, and, in front of me, the torch beams are going everywhere—too disorientating—and I can’t focus properly.
“Where’s Miles?” Manning asks. “Jed. Get up, man. You’re all right. Not gonna let a woman win, are you?”
Jed stands, shakily. I think there’s blood coming from his arm, but it doesn’t seem to be bad—not as bad as his injured leg. And now he’s hobbling, groaning.
Clare jumps up with no fuss, glares at the men. Then she disappears into the shadows of the tube, and I’m sure I hear the words: Just you wait.
I go cold.
“Did you kill someone?” Corin pulls me away from Jed as he barks the question at the older man.
One of the other Zharat men pivots toward him. I recognize him vaguely as one who was in the lorry with us. “The girl we told you about. The fraud who thought she was a Seer. That was Clare’s sister.”
I swallow hard, try to turn away. My throat burns. They can’t look at me, they can’t see me, see what I really am. As if on cue, my Seer pendant burns my skin, burns as if it can rip through my shirt and reveal itself. I angle my body toward Corin.
“Come on, people,” Manning says. “Keep going.”
And then everyone’s walking again.
The man who took Esther has disappeared… Or maybe he’s still ahead, it’s just too dark for me to pick him out. I think Clare must be in front of us now too, think I pick out light footsteps. The Zharat seem to be able to see better than me.
I reach a hand out, brush my fingers against the cave walls. Predominantly smooth, but sections resemble knotted rope in places. A snake of deep amber light flickers off it, catching the bumps at angles, making the texture seem deeper. The air smells strange.
Corin takes my hand. He squeezes my fingers, but doesn’t look at me, stares straight ahead. As the torch beams move around, I see we’re coming up to a fork in the passageway.
The Zharat men lead us down the left tube, where the air tastes fresher. I look up; there’s a patch of sky up there, pale purple in color, and it makes the cave’s ceiling look darker. Makes everything look darker.
“Is this volcanic rock?” Corin suddenly says.
We all stop.
“Aye,” Manning says. “Our cave’s a network of underground lava tubes at the foot of our Fire Mountain.”
I look at the Zharat Chief. “This is a volcano?”
The air feels damp, and I can’t see much. The torches aren’t directed at the walls, and they make the darkness around the edges of the light seem greater. But I listen hard for a second, half expect to hear magma boiling and bubbling underfoot. But there’s nothing. It’s completely silent.
“Yes, we are inside a volcano,” Jed says from behind. “Our Fire Mountain is a stratovolcano, so we are lucky to have a tube network here at all, let alone such an expansive one along the slopes—”
“You said it was a mountain.” Corin steps closer to me.
Manning sighs. “The Fire Mountain ain’t erupted in living memory. No signs of magma moving, the Gods keep it that way. They protect us. There ain’t nothing to worry about, man. These be just like any other caves.”
“Nothing to worry about?” Corin says, and the inclination of his voice makes me sure he is raising his eyebrows.
I touch the rock. I think it might be some sort of basalt, but I’m not sure. Most of it is smooth, though I can feel where other parts have been chiseled away to widen the space; those edges are sharper. I wish it was lighter, so I could see it properly.
“We are very lucky to have these tubes to live in.” Jed’s voice is closer to me now, much closer, and his tone is more insistent than before. “This volcano structure—the mountain—rarely has tubes because this type of lava is slow and sticky. W
e are blessed to have them. They are a gift from Elmiro and the other Gods.” He pauses. “I come from a land of smaller, flatter volcanoes; their lava is runnier, faster. They have a lot of tubes just under their surface. Of all the volcanoes in the Noir Lands, our Fire Mountain is the only one with tubes.”
“So lava flowed through these tubes before,” Corin says. “It could happen again.” He looks up. “Or if the summit erupts, lava could come down through the skylights, even if it doesn’t come directly through these tubes. This isn’t safe.”
“You wanna go back outside?” Manning snorts, and his light shines on Corin’s face, makes his skin look orange—as orange as some of the spirits in the raging mass we ran through. “You run-arounders always be so worried. You think we ain’t thought of this? If we ain’t told you we was in a volcano, you wouldn’t even know.” He laughs, then fixes Corin with a hard look. “The Gods keep the magma far down, far below. Perfectly safe. Come on.”
Corin doesn’t move. “What about volcanic gases? We could get poisoned.”
“We’ve lived here for years, and we’re fine.” The annoyance in Manning’s voice is obvious. “Most volcanic gas is steam. There be occasional bad air in low points. But our tubes be well ventilated, and volcanic rock is porous. Gas ain’t something to worry about.”
“And the hot vapor is useful,” Jed says. “It bursts out another tube, higher up. We do not live in that one. We have a grill over the entrance, and we cook from it. We are lucky that the Gods blessed our Fire Mountain and give us the resources we need to survive.”
We keep going, deeper and deeper into the network of tubes, deeper into the mountain. The volcano. I sniff the air several times, expect to smell something bad. But I can’t. It just smells…normal. And it’s cold. Colder than I’d have thought, for a volcano. But it is essentially just a cave, I remind myself. It hasn’t erupted in living memory—that’s what Manning said. I shiver.
Up ahead, torches light up several objects arranged in a semi-circle at the side of the tube. I narrow my eyes as they come into focus: lumps of crudely cut minerals and a small child’s doll with straw-hair. A wide grin has been painted onto the doll’s red-dyed face; my mouth dries as I stare at it.
“You menstruating?” A man shines his light on me.
I blink, eyes stinging. “What?”
“You are female. If you’re bleedin’ then the Gods do not like females lookin’ at their shrines. You need to pay respect, else they will punish us all. Same with the paintings down that corridor.”
He points, and I just about make out another tube stretching to the right. It’s dark down there, but not too dark for me to see that jagged lines have been painted on the walls. And then everyone else is moving again, and the torch beams are redirected.
“We’ll call a meeting of our council,” Manning announces a few minutes later.
We’re in a wider tube now, at least thirty feet separate the walls, and the ceiling’s a bit lower. Corin and several of the other men are stooping. Manning isn’t though. For the first time, I realize just how short he is. Short and fat.
Then I notice the other people here, standing in the shadows. Women, mainly dressed in bright colors, watch us with wide eyes, and children point. There are babies, but the babies are silent. Not crying. It’s eerie, and I swallow hard, only to find I’ve not got enough saliva in my mouth, and the action scratches my throat, makes me cough. Through my watering eyes, I see Corin giving me a concerned look.
Manning waits until I’ve stopped before speaking again—but he glares at me first. “We’ll discuss your welcomings. Call you up to us when we’ve got the details sorted. In the meantime, Nyesha will show you ’round the most-used tubes, get you fresh clothes, food.”
He gestures into the shadows, and a woman dressed in yellow steps forward. She turns on a torch and holds it high above her head so the cave’s roof is illuminated more than anything. I can’t see her features that well, but her smile is wide. Immediately, I feel better.
“Do you want to wash first?” Nyesha asks as Manning and his men head off.
I nod, stepping closer to Corin. My arms feel strangely sticky with the dust that coats them. “You have showers?”
Nyesha nods. She looks about thirty, but her eyes have the youthful spark of a teenager’s. “The Gods asked the Great River to flow through the end of the tube complex. We wouldn’t survive without water. It is all on the lower level.”
She heads off, and Corin and I follow her. He walks close to me, puts his arm around my shoulders, draws me nearer as we follow Nyesha.
“We need to talk,” he says in a low voice.
I nod, swallow hard, then listen as Nyesha points out the different tubes we pass and tells us where they lead. She looks tired, and the torchlight accentuates the dark circles under her eyes.
I focus ahead. There are a few small crater marks on the walls. Little air bubbles, with their shells broken. And it all just seems so…so weird. Strange. Like none of this can really be happening.
Corin doesn’t say anything as we walk, just nods as Nyesha explains. I can see him better now, even though the light’s still not great. My eyes must have adjusted. Corin’s expression is tight, muscles pulsating around his jaw. His gaze flickers down for a second, toward me. He nods, but I don’t understand what he’s trying to convey.
“Be careful on these steps.” Nyesha points with the beam of her torch, illuminating uneven stone.
Crudely cut steps lead us down a level, and the air gets cleaner, but darker. That’s when we hear the water. We speed up, automatically, though the floor gets steeper. We’re climbing down, going far, far to the right. Corin’s arm slides down from my shoulders, until his fingers wrap around mine. His touch makes me tingle.
“I can smell water.” I can’t help but smile. Fresh. Sparkling. Water.
I look up at Corin, then ahead. My eyes search the chasm. The light’s strange in here. The lava wall in front of us has small gemstones in it. Pale blue, and orange. Some green ones that also look slightly mauve as we pass them. They’re shining, catching light, and the sight of them makes my eyes fill. I don’t know why, and I hide the tears before Corin can see.
“This way,” Nyesha says, then disappears to the left.
We follow her around the corner, eyes searching. An electric lamp has been attached high up on the wall, and several torches are also propped up; there’s more light than I’d expected, and the brightness seems almost intrusive.
We’re deeper down now; above us must be the other tubes, the ones we were in before.
The roar of the water’s loud. So loud my ears feel under pressure. Nyesha turns back, speaks to us, but I just watch her lips move, can’t hear her. Nyesha points ahead, at the next corner, her smile growing.
Corin’s fingers start to burn in my hand. We round the corner together.
We see the waterfall.
I look up, trying to see the source of the water, but it’s just gushing through the lava-rock ceiling—the ceiling that’s suddenly really high—splashing down, turning a waterwheel, and crashing onto the smooth, black floor, where it trails off to the right and forms a healthy stream in a well-worn groove. There, the water flows along, fills the rest of the tube that veers away, getting smaller. There are two more waterwheels there, and wires snake off from them. A sliver of light shows at the end of the tube. With a jolt, I realize that’s the outside world out there.
“The wheel shafts are connected to coil generators,” Nyesha says, adjusting her bright yellow wrap-dress. Its color makes her dark skin glow. “They convert mechanical movement to electricity. The main parts of the caves are lit in the evenings, for a few hours. The rest of the power is used to recharge torch batteries.” She pauses, and her voice is weary, as if this isn’t the first time she’s said these words. “We cannot have burning torches in here because of the air. They would steal our oxygen too quickly.”
“What about smoking?” Corin asks. “Cigarettes?”
<
br /> “We smoke outside.” Nyesha turns and points to the waterfall. “We shower under there, under the wheel.”
I bring a shaky hand up to my forehead, feel something in my chest wobble. I shake my head. Corin’s hand slackens in mine, but I don’t have the energy to grasp his fingers back. This place is just….
“Is the water safe?” Corin asks. “It’s not acidic or anything, with the lava?”
“Not acidic.” Nyesha shakes her head. “We have a lot of rain at this time of year. The rivers that form down the Fire Mountains provide the rest of the Noir Lands with water.” She points at a waterfall, then directly above us. “The Great River flows down our Fire Mountain in the rainy season, but this lava tube has a separate opening. Directly up there. Part of the river falls down here, flows along there, and back out of the mountain in a small stream. It is fresh rainwater, and the Gods say it is safe.”
“Unlike the ponds,” another voice says.
Corin and I turn to find a young woman stepping through the waterfall. She’s naked, heavily pregnant, and stares at us for a few seconds, before retrieving a towel from a basket not far away. There are several woven containers there I hadn’t noticed.
“The ponds?” Corin asks. His eyes are on the floor, and his voice sounds a little strained.
The pregnant woman nods, wraps the towel around herself. “Some of the other tubes have dips in their floors. Little ponds form from water seeping in through the volcanic rock. Water in them ponds ain’t that safe. It’ll do in emergencies. But this water, from the Great River, won’t burn.” She stops and surveys us for a few minutes, then grabs a pale blue dress from the floor, pulls it on. “You the new arrivals?”
We nod, and then she’s leaving. Nyesha watches after her for a few moments, then looks across at me. She points at two baskets by the wall.
“Help yourself. Clothes and shampoo.” She looks at me for a second. “Wear only black or dark garments. You’re not supposed to wear anything with a proper color until the day of your welcoming, when it’s been decided what your color will be.” She smiles.
Fragmented Page 10