Chapter Three – Sorina
Chapter Three
Sorina
I haven’t seen the sky since we stepped through the portal.
The corridor ahead is wide and carved from pale gray stone that runs with thin veins of quartz.
The ceiling is so far above me that I have to tilt my head back to see where the walls end and the roof begins. None of this was built for humans.
Korr walks ahead of me, slow and heavy. His steps land with a dull sound that carries down the corridor.
I walk behind him and stare at the cracks that run across his back and shoulders, deep fissures splitting the stone of his skin.
Something green grows in some of them – moss or lichen, I’m not sure – clinging to the crevices the way it does on old rocks by a riverbank.
I don’t know what any of it means. I’ve never met a golem before today, or any kind of monster, for that matter.
I once checked out a book from the library in Tessana about the different species that live beyond human territory, but golems weren’t covered, and most of what was in there read more like rumor than fact.
“This is Steinheim,” Korr says.
His jaw moves with visible effort, and his words come out drawled.
“It was carved directly from the rock, not built on top of it. We cut halls, corridors, and chambers inward, so the city and the mountain are one and the same. There are five levels. At the bottom are the Narrowhalls. That’s the human quarter.
It has lower ceilings and narrower corridors, taverns, market stalls, and workshops built for humans.
There’s a tavern called the Pickaxe that’s very popular.
It gets loud after the mining shifts end.
” He glances back at me. “You will probably want to be among your kind until you get used to us golems.”
I can’t tell if it’s an invitation or a warning.
“Above the Narrowhalls are the Forgehalls,” he continues.
“That’s where the diamonds are cut and polished.
Golems and humans work there together. Above that are the Corehalls.
This is where we are now, and it’s the civic center.
The governing council meets here, and the common halls are also here for meals and gatherings.
The council has four golem seats and one human seat. ”
“A human sits on your council?” I ask.
“The humans who live here deserve a voice in how things are run,” he says.
Korr leads me to what looks like a lift shaft and steps onto the platform, which is a single slab of cut rock hanging from thick iron chains.
I step on after him, and the platform barely shifts under my weight, though it groaned when he got on.
He pulls a lever, the chains go taut, and a motor somewhere above us hums to life.
The platform rises, and I look at the level below.
I notice that copper wiring runs through grooves in the walls, feeding into lights set in carved alcoves. The mountain has electricity! I expected a cave, but this is an honest city.
“Is there a way out of the mountain besides the portal?” I ask.
He doesn’t hesitate. “There’s a main entrance on the lower slope. To get there, there are stairs between every level, carved in spirals, and the lifts as well.”
I notice how easily he answers, because my husband never answered a question directly. Bran would change the subject, or tell me I didn’t need to worry about things, or say something that sounded right but wasn’t. Korr doesn’t go in circles, but that doesn’t mean I trust him.
Korr’s quarters are in the Highhalls, where the golems live.
The door is wide enough that he walks through without issue, and the living room beyond it matches him in scale.
The ceiling is high, the furniture is heavy stone and dark wood, and a fireplace set into the far wall is already burning.
Thick woven rugs cover most of the floor, in deep reds and browns that look expensive.
The warmth hits me the moment I step inside, and I curl my fingers against my palms as I realize how cold my hands have been.
I look around while Korr waits near the door.
There are shelves carved into the stone walls, and on them I see polished stones of different colors and cuts, and pieces of jewelry on careful display.
Rings, bracelets, earrings, and necklaces that catch the light from the fire.
The work is fine and precise, nothing I would expect from hands the size of his.
There’s also a window covered by a sheer curtain.
“Did you make these?” I ask.
“Yes. It’s what I do when I’m not working.” He nods toward the corridor we came through. “My workshop is just down the hall. I spend a lot of my time there, so if you ever need me and I’m not here, that’s where I’ll be.”
I glance at his hands while he talks. His fingers are thick and blunt, and they don’t close all the way, curling inward and stopping short of making a fist. I don’t understand how those hands shaped the thin silver chain on the top shelf, but I don’t know anything about golems, so maybe this is normal for them.
He motions for me to continue into a short hall that leads to another room.
“This one is yours,” he says.
The bedroom has its own fireplace, already lit, and its own bathing room through a doorway to my right. I can see the edge of a stone tub carved directly into the floor, like a pool.
The bed is massive, wider than anything I’ve ever slept in, and it’s covered in thick furs and heavy blankets that look impossibly soft. A narrow window in the outer wall lets in natural light.
He prepared all this before he left for the bride market.
The fire was set, the bed was made, and the furs were stacked and smoothed for someone he hadn’t met yet.
And he never planned to put me in his own room.
This bedroom is all mine, and I can close the door and not have to be with him if I don’t want to.
This is too good to be true. I wonder if there’s a catch.
Korr sets my bag just inside the doorway. He carried it the entire way from the market without my asking and without mentioning it.
“You can move whatever you want,” he says. “Change anything. If you need something, ask me.” He pauses. “Meals are taken down in the Corehalls with the other golems, but I can bring food up here if you’d rather not go there yet.”
He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and I get the impression that he wants to say more, but he doesn’t know how. His mouth opens and closes. He looks at me, and I watch him and wait, because I know this part. This is when the door shuts and everything changes.
But he doesn’t step closer. He doesn’t even lean into the room. His eyes move over my face, and I’m aware that he’s studying the bruises there. They probably look worse than last night. Eventually, he averts his gaze without asking the questions he obviously has.
“You’re safe here,” he whispers.
He makes it sound like it’s obvious. Well… to me, it’s not. I appreciate him saying it, but again… Can I trust him?
I’m standing in front of him, covered in marks that tell a story I don’t want him to know, and I’m grateful that he doesn’t ask me about it.
I’m ashamed of how I look, ashamed of the proof pressed into my skin that someone put their hands on me and I didn’t stop it, and I’m grateful that he gives me the dignity of silence.
Korr nods once, turns, and walks away. I listen to his heavy footsteps, then the creak of a door, probably to his own bedroom.
When silence envelops this new, strange space that is mine now, I cross to the door and close it.
That’s when I see there’s a bolt on the inside.
I slide it shut and stand there, my hands trembling.
I can’t believe the door has a bolt and I can lock myself in. Even if he has a key, it doesn’t matter, because the bolt is heavy iron and it has to be removed from my side.
I’m tired beyond belief. I back away from the door, not daring to look away from it yet. I sit on the edge of the bed and try to figure out what kind of trap I’ve walked into.
The furs are thick under my hands, the fire is steady, and the door has a bolt on the inside. Beyond it, there’s a golem who asked nothing of me and touched nothing he wasn’t invited to touch. I’m inside a mountain, surrounded by stone, and I belong to a creature I met less than an hour ago.
I take a few deep breaths and press my palms to my eyes.
This isn’t a trap, I tell myself. I’m far from Tessana, and that’s what matters.
Nobody will find me here. If anyone back home hears that I went through a bride market, they’ll assume I’m gone, and after a while, they’ll stop looking, because there’s no point.
I think about my parents. My grandmother.
I haven’t spoken to them in too long, and every month that passes makes it harder to imagine what I’d say.
I should write them a letter. I should tell them I’m alive, that I’m somewhere far away, that I’m all right.
But not yet. First, I need to find out if I actually am all right, or if the comfort I’m surrounded by is just a different kind of prison.
I chose Korr because he was the only one who bid on me. I stood on that stage, bruised and shaking, and the market stayed quiet until his paddle went up. I didn’t have the luxury of waiting. I needed someone to buy me, and he was the only one who was interested.
I hope he’s the right choice.
I lie down and look up at the ceiling, where a thin vein of quartz catches the firelight and holds it in a faint glow. After a while, I curl onto my side and tuck a hand under my tender cheek. My eyes close as I fall asleep. I keep my boots on.