9. The Escape
As soon as I said that, I knew it was a mistake. It sounded so much harsher than I intended, and—even though I was angry at having to leave Mama behind and this whole bargain—I immediately regretted it.
Easy as the words were to speak, they were impossible to take back and almost as impossible to counter.
Corvin closed his mouth, his expression hard as the stone the cave was carved from. Then he turned, walked into his room, and slammed the door. The door creaked and snapped into place, grating against the stone.
Guilt flared through me. I ducked my chin, more tears welling up. That had come out wrong.
Still trembling from the cold, I hugged the musty garments to my chest. I drew in a deep breath. The lavender reminded me of Mama back before we spent everything searching for Erryn.
It was too much.
I burst into tears.
For all the good it did, I just sobbed.
On top of all that, it was so hard to get warm. My fingers and toes ached and burned. Stripping off my still-wet socks and shoes made them sting even more. And the cold damp in the air made it worse. Even wrapping up in the old robe did little to curb the cold.
I piled the extra garments up as well as the blanket and curled up on the mat. It was so thin I could feel every pit and dent in the stone floor beneath it.
Everyone was alive though. This hadn't been a mistake. It was the only choice.
I told myself that over and over until I cried myself to sleep.
I woke, shivering. How much longer before I got deathly ill?
Probably not much.
It was no wonder parents warned their children against bargains with fae if they wound up in places like this.
Shuddering, I sat up and limped out to the main room, rubbing my arms as I went.
Corvin was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Tagger.
"Hello?" I called out softly. "Hello?" I spoke louder this time. "I'm sorry about what I said. I didn't mean for it to sound so bad." My cheeks and chest stung with shame. It was clear that my words had struck a deep chord in him. Almost as if he were embarrassed.
As I rubbed my arms and stomped my feet to get the blood flowing, I continued to search.
No sign of him anywhere.
If I was going to find a way out, now was the time to do it.
Not by water.That wasn't the way out. But there might be another way.
I searched around the common room. There was a plate sitting out on the table with strips of salted, dried fish on it. A piece of wrinkled paper sat next to it with a picture of a stick person with a skirt putting something in her mouth and an arrow pointing at the fish. I frowned a little. A large blue pitcher with a superficial crack down its side sat beyond that with a similar picture of a stick woman drinking from it.
That was thoughtful. But I was his prisoner. If he wanted me to survive, he had to feed me.This didn't mean anything.
I had to figure out something fast.
My stomach cramped as I imagined Mama wandering the beach.
How long before Mama accepted I was dead and gone, and went back to searching for Erryn? And how was Mama going to get off the beach? They'd probably send up a smoke signal or something. But that could take a few days.
Creator, let Hosvir care for Mama.
I pressed my lips in a tight line, my appetite fading.
Despite the nausea and discomfort, I forced myself to eat the dried, salted fish and drink the water. I hadn't eaten since yesterday, and commonsense encouraged eating when I could. Even if it did taste foul and fishy.
It left an oily residue on the inside of my mouth. I'd experimented with a number of salting and drying techniques in my journeys over the past years. Some methods worked better than others, but this one created a foul aftertaste that coated my tongue.
Still, it filled my belly, and it gave me strength.
The clothes I had hung up to dry overnight were still damp. The oversized robe, trousers, and tunic would have to do. I couldn't go without socks and shoes though. I found a spare pair of oversized socks to wear, but my shoes were still damp and I had no alternative.
I cringed, knowing if I wasn't careful I'd have blisters and sores on my feet before the day was over. But if I was going to escape, I couldn't do it barefoot.
Ugh.
It was horrid.
I'd had to deal with wet feet so much over the years, and it never got any easier. I retrieved my clip from my dress. It still held my wooden spoon. I then grabbed a spare sock with a hole in it and found a knife in the main room. Better than nothing, at least.
I then checked out the remaining doors. One was firmly locked, but it didn't seem to have runes on it. The other was set the most firmly into the wall and locked securely. It was also directly across from the water entrance, and if my knowledge of runes was correct, it said something like "cave exists here."
I pried and picked at it for a while before concluding that the entire locking and security mechanism was based on the runes in addition to a heavy deadbolt.
Being on a ship run by dwarves meant I'd seen a number of runes used for various tasks, but that didn't mean I knew how to work them. However, Mik and Hosvir both had shown me an effective way to handle runic locks: break the area around it and apply leverage from the weakest point of the lock, which, thankfully, was on the inside.
I picked up a heavy stone from the floor and started hammering at the door. The solid thwacks resounded through the chamber. Bits of stone chipped away, falling to the floor. After a few minutes of pounding, small fissures had developed, spreading out from around the lock like spiderwebs. I then rummaged around in the cupboards until I found what I needed: a crowbar.
For what felt like hours, I chipped and pried away at the door until the lock snapped and the door cracked open.
A waft of sharp air greeted me.
Swallowing hard, I peered out into the dark passage beyond. There was a fresh, bracing draft coming from somewhere, even if it did smell heavily of salt and algae. That was a good sign. Right? Who knew how far away it was? But something was better than nothing.
A small tremor passed through me. Almost a sensation of guilt. What was that about?
I put my hand to my chest, wincing.
If I didn't know better, it felt like…deep down, something told me not to leave Corvin. Not just something. Like deep down, I didn't want to leave him.
But why?
He was the reason our ship had been destroyed. Even if it was on the king's orders, he had followed those orders. There had been no harm done by our visiting the island. Especially not when the boundary's movement was so arbitrary.
This was strange.
It was almost as if a thread bound me to him. A thread that thrummed with disapproval for the briefest of moments, sending a pang of regret through my core. Warning me that leaving him would take away something precious.
And unlike other encounters I'd had with fae magic, it felt…clear. Pure, even.
Shaking my head, I tried to take in what this meant. That thrumming vibration passed as I focused on it. Almost as if it was too tenuous to exist.
And all I was left with was an awareness of the darkness.
It was so horribly dark and cold down here.
Why did he live down here like this? How could he live like this?
I picked up two orbs. One I deposited in the oversized pocket of the long charcoal robe. The second I gripped in one hand while holding the crowbar in the other.
Time to do this.
With a deep breath, I stepped out into the dark passage. The pale-blue orb cast a small circle of light around me, and my steps echoed in the cavernous expanse. It was even colder out here, but all my hammering and pounding at the door had at least gotten blood flowing again. Even if my feet were disgustingly damp.
I studied this area. My sense of direction was usually fairly decent. But there were five passages that I could see. It was unlikely any were a straight shot up.
Another twinge passed through me. No. I refused to listen to that. I'd kept my word. I'd fulfilled the bargain and come down here to his home.It was perfectly fine for me to escape now. Why would I owe him anything?
His face flashed back into my mind. His expression the last time we'd spoken.
I cringed inwardly as I recalled how he had flinched at my words. Shaking my head, I tried to brush it off. Why did I feel so bad about that? I owed him nothing. He'd been willing to let everyone on the ship die. And he'd killed others before.
I shook my head. It wasn't as if he was a friend or a family member. He was practically a stranger.
He was worse.
Basically, an enemy.
So why did some part of me want to stay close to him? There was actually an ache inside me that intensified like a tender bruise when I focused on it.
No!
I shook my head, trying to push the thoughts away.
I needed to focus. There were other far more important questions. Like which way to go?
The only sound was the echo of dripping water somewhere ahead. It was so dark, my eyes couldn't adjust to it.
I stepped forward, examining each of the different passages. The faint glow of the orb lit my way. Two of the paths angled upward. One smelled fresher than the other.
I unfastened a bit of thread from the ripped sock, fastened it securely around a stalagmite and started forward.
The cold air bit at my cheeks as I walked, and I tucked my free hand into a pocket for warmth. The orb cast dancing shadows against the rough stone walls as I went. The green thread that ran along behind me now was the one tether I had in case I got lost or needed to backtrack. Or, even worse, abandon my attempt to escape and return and hope Corvin didn't notice what I'd attempted…although explaining the broken stone and the twisted lock might be hard to pass off as anything other than an escape attempt.
The tunnel twisted and turned, sometimes sloping up or down but mostly moving up. Often it branched, and I had to choose.
Each time, I relied on my nose.
More than once, I had to squeeze through narrow gaps between boulders or step carefully over treacherous piles of loose stone. My shoes squelched unpleasantly with every step.The steady dripping of water remained constant.
So strange to be down here.
My heart still hammered, the shadows twitching and snagging my attention.
It wasn't my first time navigating an unknown cave, but it was the first time I'd had to start within its depths. Hosvir had told me a few things about navigating the caves in these parts, as had Mik and a few of the others. Mostly summaries of their own exploits and explorations when their vessel docked and they continued their research. But some of their tidbits helped.
I was violating a crucial one in that I didn't have two separate types of light sources and no real knowledge of how to operate these orbs. But it was better than nothing.
On I went.
I half expected Corvin to come racing after me. Every shadow reminded me of him. And then—well, who knew what he would do? Probably nothing good. He wasn't going to be happy about me running off like this.
Based on the intensity of the water pressure, I didn't think I was more than a couple hundred feet underground. If I could find a way, I'd be out of here fast. And he'd be angry.
But…I wasn't afraid of him hurting me.
I couldn't even imagine him hurting me. Not even after all I'd seen him do.
He'd probably just look at me with those bright-green eyes and…be all hurt. But that was his problem. Not mine. I had to get back and rescue Mama. And then?—
Soft footsteps pattered up behind me.
I spun around in time to see a pair of glittering eyes.
I lifted the crowbar. "Stay away," I said grimly.
The fearless creature bounded into the light, rearing up on its hind legs.
"Tagger?" I lowered the orb, blinking. Where had he come from? I peered into the darkness behind him, the thread twitching with my movement.
Tagger squeaked and then let out a series of trills. He tilted his head in a manner similar to Corvin.
"Did you come here to betray me?" I asked dryly, resting the hand with the crowbar against my hip.
He chirped and dropped on all fours. His long whiskers brushed the floor as he padded closer. His purple-black eyes sparkled.
Damn it.
He was cute. I wanted to hold him.
"Forgive me if I don't let you near my weapons." I glanced back down the passage. Had he come alone?
He bounded up beside me and started rubbing against my ankles like a cat. His soft fur tickled my calves.
What was I supposed to do with him?
I sighed, then shook my head. "Fine. You can come with me if you want. I don't suppose you know the way out?"
Tagger hopped around me, nuzzled my ankle, and spun in a circle. Then he paused, stared up at me, and made no move in any direction.
"You're very helpful," I muttered. But in truth, some part of me was relieved to have company down here. Even though most people didn't notice me, I was rarely truly alone. And it wasn't until now that I realized how comforting it was to have a little friend present.
If he was a friend. I actually wasn't certain. "You better not betray me."
I turned back in my original direction, then gave the thread a little tug.
Good.
It was still attached.
I glanced at Tagger once more, then started down the path. He padded along beside me, squeaking and trilling happily.
Pale trails of silver formed downward arrows in the dark walls, indicators of trace ore and a likely sign I was roughly headed toward the surface. Just so long as I didn't wind up lost or trapped. The drip-dripping sound soon faded, replaced only by my breaths. Sometimes the freshness of the air faltered as well.
My shoes crunched on the stone. Occasionally my hand brushed the cracked, curved wall, the cold biting into my flesh. Tagger never led the way. He just circled and chittered at everything.
Always forward.
There had to be a way out.
If I could will it into being?—
Pebbles tumbled down the passage, rolling past my feet along with silt.
Tagger sat up on his hindquarters, peering out from behind me, paws at his chest.
I froze.
My heartbeat thundered louder. It echoed in my mind as I strained to hear anything else.
There was something up ahead.
I steadied my hand around the pale-blue orb and lifted it slowly to broaden the path of light before me. My palm sweat around the crowbar and the sock with its dangling thread.
The pale-blue light illuminated only a small portion of the passage. The silver veins in the wall had thickened, a hopeful indicator of being even closer to the surface. No visible signs of a predator disturbed the area.
My gut clenched harder.
Didn't matter what I saw.
Something was watching me.