Ferra went forward and grabbed onto the bridge. It swayed and creaked.
Naomi hated it. In no way did she want to grab on to a moving, creaking, swaying bridge that crossed a fathomless abyss, all in pitch darkness. If it broke, it would send her tumbling to the center of the earth. As Ferra crossed, Naomi lost her presence and felt completely alone. She had no choice. She had to go.
With a huge effort, she touched the rough rope and slid her feet to the rotting boards. The bridge vibrated under her weight.
The steady wind rocked it back and forth. She could only think of getting off, but she slid her foot forward and found another board. Her hands clung tight to the rope. Not wanting to let go at all, her hands groped their way forward in the same way as her feet. The prickly splinters from the aging fibers cut into her hands, but she pressed on.
The process seemed to take hours, but only minutes had passed. Her fear mounted as she edged slowly across. She tried to trick herself, imagining Reynolds alive and waiting for her on the other side. His gentle eyes and strong jaw, his scent sweet as sandalwood warming under the sun. Keep going. She imagined his voice.
“Naomi?” Ferra’s voice called in a whisper. “Where are you?”
“Here,” she returned. “I’m coming.”
“I think you’d better hurry. I’m close now and I can see one staring me in the face.”
Naomi sank. Her vision of Reynolds vanished and changed into a snarling, hissing creature. She didn’t want to move forward, just retreat. “You shouldn’t have told me if you want me on that side.”
“I’ll think before I speak next time.”
Naomi pressed on, ever closer to the creatures. “Why don’t they attack?”
“They fear the pit,” Ferra explained. “I don’t blame them. Strange things live down there.”
“Will you be quiet! Don’t talk about that, either, while I’m dangling for my life.”
Ferra snorted. “You know, you were a lot more fun last night.”
“You mean, when I was crying?”
Ferra laughed. “Yes, exactly.”
A gust came from nowhere and shook the bridge. Naomi went numb. Just a little more, a little more, she kept encouraging herself. Her arms began to shake from fatigue and fear. Out of everything she’d faced, that terrified her the most. And then she bumped into Ferra.
“Can you see them?” Ferra asked.
Naomi looked around and saw nothing but the outlines of strange-looking trees. “Not really. I don’t know what to look for.”
“Do you see the falls?”
Naomi heard the rushing water and knew what direction to turn. A sparkling shimmer glistened on one of the cave walls. “Yes.”
“Stay close to me. When I tell you, run toward them. There’s a pool at the base. When you hit it, keep going forward until you are behind the falls, understand?”
“Yes.” Naomi trusted Ferra, but not her own ability of running in the dark.
A weird snarling sound came from beneath Naomi’s feet.
“Run!”
The bridge swayed wildly with the weight of the girls on it. A trollmartin clung to the underside of the boards, keeping pace with them as they tried to escape. Naomi clung to the ropes and pulled herself forward. The trollmartin nipped at her feet and scratched at the boards, trying to get to her.
Others scrambled forward, attempting to nip and slash the two girls.
Naomi tried to stomp on the claws of the animal. The board broke and she fell through, dangling from the fraying rope in her hands.
The trollmartin lost its grip, but swung by its tail around the bridge and scurried to the top.
Naomi felt a hand around hers.
“Grab on!” Ferra yelled. “Hurry!”
Naomi grasped Ferra’s hand and felt herself being pulled up the rock face.
But the trollmartins still surrounded her. She kicked and pushed to get away, all the while being whipped by the animals’ massive tails. She finally reached the cliff top, but the beasts attacked mercilessly. Their deep bites sank into her flesh.
“Use your magic!” Naomi cried.
“Not yet! Run. I’m right behind you.”
Naomi broke away and ran. With darkness surrounding her and a monstrous pit beside her, she had to trust without fear and race toward the sparkling falls.
She plunged directly into the pool of ice-cold water. Her breath froze as she struggled to the top. She gasped before finding her footing.
She could hear the animals behind her. Not knowing if they were following, she swam toward the trickling waterfall. She could see it better than before, a hint of aquamarine reflecting off it. The long stream softly cascaded over the rocks and down into the pool. Naomi heard a splash behind her—and hoped Ferra had found the water.
The falls became ever clearer as she moved forward. A faint, colorful light glowed within the cracks. Her head hit the wall of water and passed through it.
A delicate illumination lit the other side. A ledge stuck out close to the edge. She climbed out, cold, anxious, and apprehensive as she waited for Ferra.
A moment later, a figure emerged from the falls and began to climb out of the pool. A tall shadow crept toward her out of the water. A shadow much taller than Ferra.
~*~
A man walked through the waterfall and shook out his hair with his hand. Light from the reflective pool bounced around the cave walls in eerie slices of color, shadowing the figure in silhouette.
“Where are you?” his voice called out in the darkness. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Naomi kept still, petrified without Ferra near. Her heart beat like a drum, pulse thumping in her ears. She strained her eyes in the darkness, trying to see the man’s face.
“Who are you?” she spoke in a whisper, her voice hushed under the rushing of the water. “Where’s Ferra?”
“Ferra, is it?” he asked.
“Where is she? What have you done with her?”
“Nothing,” he answered, still moving closer, “though I can’t speak for the trollmartins. They were sparring for a fight.”
“What do you want?” Panic filled her voice as he crept closer.
“What I have always wanted. To be—”
Thwack! He fell unconscious to the ground at Naomi’s feet.
Naomi looked over and saw the silhouette of a girl, holding a long board in her slender hand.
“Are you all right?” Ferra spoke in a hurried tone as she bent down toward Naomi’s face. She seemed frazzled from the duel with the trollmartins. “Someone else is coming. We’ve got to go.”
Naomi stared in shock at the crumpled man lying unconscious before her. She still could not see his face and bent down to get a better look.
“No, Naomi.” Ferra tugged her away. “There’s no time. Come on.”
At that moment, a second figure emerged from the falls.
Fear flooded Naomi as Ferra pulled her up the tunnel. She looked back at the approaching figure. It looked smaller compared to the first, but Ferra kept moving her forward.
“Naomi!” a cry echoed off the walls. “Naomi, stop! Wait—please!”
The voice sounded sweet and familiar. Naomi looked back.
“It’s a trick,” Ferra warned. “It’s the Louvings. We have to move.”
Naomi strained back to look. “But how would any of them know my name?”
Ferra stopped in place. “Good question.” She closed her eyes, breathing in deep. “It’s not an imposter—at least, I don’t think so.” She looked a little closer at the individual moving toward them. “This girl is not very careful about hiding her emotions.”
Then Naomi knew. Katia.
“Naomi! It’s you!” the voice cried again.
No trickery could fool her. Katia stood out, one of a kind. In spite of the wet clothes and dim light reflecting off her hair, Naomi would know her friend anywhere.
She ran forward and embraced her with relief. “What happened to you?”
Katia ruffled her wet hair. “Oh, so much, but I wouldn’t know where to start. Where’s Landon?”
“Landon?” She looked to the black mass of clothes heaped on the ground. “Oh, no!”
Naomi quickly ran back to the man that Ferra had knocked out with a plank of wood, turning him over to look into his face. Poor Landon, she thought. Out cold. A small amount of blood trickled from a cut on his brow. She ripped a piece of cloth from his tunic and spat on it.
“What are you doing?” Katia asked.
Naomi placed the cloth on his cut, wiping gently. “I would do this to heal Zander’s bruises. Lytte explained how I had the magic inside to do it. Look.”
The cut slowly closed and sealed itself with a tight scab.
She held Landon’s face in her hands as her fingers caressed his eyelids and ran down his cheeks. Over and over again, she let her healing touch run through him, soothing and reassuring, until his eyes flickered open.
Landon looked around, groggy from the blow. “Peaches . . .” slipped from his mouth.
Katia smiled to herself. Naomi couldn’t help herself; she laughed and hugged him, and he gladly accepted it.
“What? No kiss?” Landon swore, feeling his head. “Ouch! Was that necessary?”
“Absolutely,” Ferra defended herself. “How was I supposed to know you didn’t want to harm her?”
“You could’ve asked,” he replied, checking his lip for blood.
Naomi broke in. “I don’t understand how you found me.”
“Well.” Landon seemed to mull the events over before speaking. “I don’t have time to tell you everything right now. Just know the king sent us this way.”
“The king?” Ferra asked. “My king?”
“If you mean Prolius, then yes.”
Ferra searched his expression. “How did you get there? It is a great secret.”
“No time, remember? Some of the Stains were guiding us to where they may be keeping—”
“Micah?” Naomi interrupted.
“Yes, but I’ll get to that later. Taren ran off before—”
“Taren’s here?” Naomi felt the panic in her chest.
Landon glared. “Let me finish. The Stains sensed the magic and heard the screams. They changed course to find where it came from. I think they recognized your friend, but I recognized you and ran after you.”
Ferra seemed very interested. “Where are the Stains now?”
Landon looked at her and rubbed his temple again, mostly for effect, it seemed. “They won’t cross the falls. Their leader, a Stain called Cornwallis Fairborne—”
“Fairborne?” Naomi interrupted again. Reynolds’ father!
Landon continued, “. . . said they have to travel around the falls—that the falls would make them disappear, or something to that effect.”
“Tell me about Taren.”
“He ran off when he saw the Stains.” Katia spoke up. “I think Cornwallis knew him.”
Taren was roaming the tunnels. Naomi needed to be more watchful. “Hurry, let’s help you up. Can you stand?”
“I don’t know.” He looked again at Ferra.
“Oh, come now! You would have done the same for Naomi.”
Landon grinned. “You’re completely right.” He put out his arm, and Ferra pulled him up. “I’m Landon Rhees, by the way, valiant friend of our dear Naomi.”
Katia planted herself between the two, her narrowed eyes examining the other girl. “I’m Katia Ravenmoor.”
“Yes,” Ferra answered. “I heard you before . . . while you were arguing. My bear and I patrol the entrances to the mountain.”
Landon’s jaw dropped. “Amazing.”
Katia elbowed him in the stomach, bringing him back to his senses.
“Micah is being held near the Grand Hall, I think,” he said, rubbing his stomach. “That’s where we were headed.”
“That’s not far from here. But we need to be careful. Louvings live in the Hall, and your friend could be in any one of the surrounding rooms. And Harrow is a dangerous man. We need to have a plan before we attack. If we do things right, they might not even know what happened.”
Landon leaned in toward Naomi and winked. “Glad to see you know how to choose your friends.”
~*~
The tunnels wound in twisting patterns like ant burrows, man-made, chiseled, and hewn. Ferra, knowing the caves well, led the group down the paths designed to mislead. As the opening widened, a magnificent sight laid out before them.
They stood on a balcony looking over a huge chasm—the Grand Hall, named so for a reason, but the name seemed insignificant compared to the enormity of its grandeur.
The landing overlooked an enormous geode, more than mere crystal formations; light illuminated every crystal in varying hues, like the colors from the falls. Carvings were scattered in and around the crystals; statues stood inside hollows and out of stalactites and stalagmites. The visual trickery gave the impression of the hall being filled with people. Bridges and catwalks crossed like intricate spider webs, while each light reflected off its neighbor in a dazzling display of sparkling color.
Ferra had warned them not to speak when they reached the hall, but it turned out to be a moot point, since they all fell speechless at the sight. Landon’s facial expression said everything as he gawked open-mouthed at the splendor.
In the center of the hall sat a throne of deep blue crystal—a monstrosity out of place beside the intricate workings surrounding it. A man, withered with age—more ancient than the sea or the earth—sat in the chair and wore an encrusted gold crown.
Naomi had revisited the dream so many times in her head that she knew instantly who sat on the throne: Harrow, the ruler of the undermountain. Every hair on her body stood on end. She felt a sudden impulse to disappear, to sink back into the shadows.
Instinctively, she reached beneath the scarf and rubbed the mark on her neck for comfort. She felt exposed and wanted to hide. The treasure Reynolds had guarded so carefully lay around her neck. Harrow would find it and find her. He had set a trap—and Reynolds the bait.
When Ferra caught sight of Harrow, she pushed Naomi back into the shadows, but Naomi resisted.
From the landing, a bridge made of a dark blue crystal, lovely and luminescent, crisscrossed at various points to pathways on the other side, the only way forward. The easiest and best choice would be to travel down the middle and then branch off to the left, heading toward the southeast corner of the hall.
But before anyone could move, a tall man with darkened skin appeared near the doors. A deep growl of a laugh came from the old man. “Well, well, well,” he spoke. “One of my most trusted Louvings. You wouldn’t come in here, Urick, unless you had something to tell me.”
“Yes, Harrow, I do,” the man answered. “One of us has gone missing. It is Hughes.”
“Missing? One does not simply disappear here. Who was the last with him?”
“Madden. He was near the falls.”
Harrow seemed to be digesting the information. “If he fell, all the better for us. Hughes was useless.”
“But he had the vial of Reynolds’ blood.”
Harrow sneered. “All that effort, wasted.”
At the mention of Reynolds’ name, Naomi took a deep breath to keep herself from succumbing to her sorrow.
“We also found an Arenma climbing outside of the mountain.”
A sneer moved across Harrow’s lips. “A Shadower?”
“We believe so.”
“What an interesting turn of events. A Shadower come home. Does he have information?”
“Yes.”
Naomi froze. She glanced at Landon’s and Katia’s faces and saw the same look of horror in their expressions. They had Micah. She slid back toward the security of the wall, unable to take her eyes off the underlord.
“Bring him forward.”
The man snapped his fingers and two other Louvings appeared: one man with a fidgety expression and a girl with long braids of
sandy brown, dragging Micah’s small form, his white head smeared with blood.
A greedy look crossed Harrow’s sallow face. “What is your name, traitor?”
Micah seemed hardly able to speak. “Micah.”
“What brings you here, Micah Shadower?” Harrow spit his name out. “The Arenmas banished the Shadowers. You are not allowed to enter. But here you are, my sightless bird. My Louvings guard your precious race. They obey me, as you will, too. Fronzi?”
The girl holding Micah’s right arm took out a small, sharpened metal rod and scraped it down his spine.
Micah screamed.
Naomi held her breath.
“Why have you returned?” Harrow demanded.
Micah looked up with a slight smile. “My body longs to be in the earth.”
“You lie!” Harrow’s fist slammed down on the arm of the throne. “Are you here to steal from me!”
Micah cringed but remained silent.
Naomi couldn’t stand to see anyone hurt Micah. He was doing this to protect her. She couldn’t watch; she had to do something to stop it.
“Confess it now, or you will die.” Harrow stepped forward. “I will have Fronzi take out your heart and drink your blood. Her body will adapt to your delicate image. Spotswood wouldn’t even know he had an assassin living with him. Soon all the Shadowers and anyone who crosses her path will find out the painful truth, right before they die.”
Micah stayed still as he looked up to meet the underlord’s gaze.
“Take him away and be done.”
The hall echoed with footsteps as they left. The room returned to dead silence.
Harrow stretched out his arms, his head raised to the ceiling, a small hum on his lips. He snapped his fingers. The sound echoed through the hall and down the tunnels, changing in intensity as it traveled, making a rippling effect as it moved down and down toward the earth’s core.
. . . Search . . .
Naomi felt the vibrations surge through her body. The Vivatera became violently hot. She grabbed for it, but it burned her fingers. She wanted to scream, but it would give everything away. She leaned forward in an attempt to draw it away from her skin. Harrow wanted it. He would destroy her to get it.
Vivatera (Vivatera Series Book 1) Page 24