Chapter Thirty-Eight
THIRTY-EIGHT
ASPETH
Barnabus’s stupid chalk has saved us.
We climb carefully from the rubble, retrieving our packs as we do. On the other side of the chalk line, the cavern is destroyed, the rocks blocking the tunnels so large it would take ten Taurians to budge them. On this side of the chalk line, there’s nothing but a cascade of slightly larger rocks, most of them moved with just a bit of shoving. Most of the cave-in seems to have occurred on the other side of the chalk line, with its invisible shield protecting us even as it prevents us from leaving.
Once we’re free of the rocks, I suck in a deep breath and try not to think about all the rock still pressing on us from overhead. Of how nothing but a narrow tunnel is between us and death. I’m going to have nightmares about rocks and cave-ins at some point, but for now, I’m forcing myself to think of other things. “All right, ladies and lizard. Let’s get our packs on and rope together again. Kipp, you take sword, Lark, you’re our shield, and Mer, you’re our healer. Gwenna, are you good with navigating?”
“What do you mean?” she asks, giving me a tired, blank look in the flickering candlelight. Our lantern was smashed in the collapse, and we’re still down to only a candle for light, but at least we’re not buried. “We should just sit and wait.”
“That was the plan before,” I announce. “Now the plan is that we’re going to find our own way out.”
“Why can’t we just wait for someone to come and get us?” Mereden looks up from wrapping her ankle with strips of gauzy bandages. “It’s almost Hawk’s Conquest Moon time, right? He’s going to come looking for you.”
I flinch at her words. It is the time of the Conquest Moon, true. And the one thing that has been impressed upon me is that once it arrives, Hawk won’t have control. Even now, he might not be sensible. He might be in bed with a stranger even as I rot in the Everbelow. My heart aches at the thought. “We can’t assume. We can’t assume anything. Not with Magpie and Barnabus working together. How do we know that she didn’t tell someone we left the city?”
“But the drop—”
“Is an unlucky one,” Lark points out. “No one’s going to sign up for Thirteen unless everything else is taken. It could be weeks before it gets out of the guild’s paperwork piles anyhow. It might take the investigation team a while to get to it, and we don’t know what my aunt is telling them.”
“Or Barnabus. He’s kind of shitty,” Gwenna adds. She looks over at me. “No offense.”
“None taken. He is kind of shitty.” I put my hands on my hips, and a shooting pain jolts up my arm. I must have tweaked it in the cave-in. Doesn’t matter. I move my hand from my hip and gesture at our surroundings. “For all we know, they’ve been planning things for a while. This is Drop Thirteen again, right? Even though they wanted the other half of the ring, they dropped us here. The way I see it, they either want to collect the paired rings from our dead bodies, or they dumped us here because it’s easiest for their lies. They can pretend ignorance, say that we acted without Magpie’s permission and crept down here.”
“Never mind that she was all in,” Lark mutters.
“Never mind that,” I agree. “We have to assume no one is coming for us. So what’s the best thing we can do?”
“Find another artifact,” Mereden replies, voice wavering. “Hopefully one that leads us out of here and somewhere safe.”
Exactly. “And the best time to get started is now.” I glance around the mess of the cavern. “So what do we have here that we can use as a dowsing rod?”
We dig around in our packs to cobble together a reasonable substitute. The one Gwenna had is busted in three places, and it doesn’t seem to react when she holds it. We end up finding a triangular-shaped piece of Kipp’s broken house and hack at it until it vaguely forms a Y-shape. Kipp winces when Gwenna picks it up, his expression one of longing. I want to comfort him, but I don’t even know where slitherskins get their houses from in order to replace his. We’ll figure it out after we’re free, I decide. For now, we’ve got to tackle our immediate problems.
“Here,” Gwenna tells me, taking me aside. She pulls a ribbon from over her head and holds the ring out to me. “You might as well take this. It’s yours anyhow.”
I manage a small smile, clasping my hand around it. The ring has been covered in a crude leather pouch with a stylized lizard drawn upon it. Gwenna said she disguised it so people would think it was a slitherskin good luck charm. I tuck the small leather bag under my breast and re-lace my corset.
To think, days ago the ring brought me so much relief. Today, it’s just another problem I have to solve on top of the mounting pile of problems. “So much trouble. I hope it’s worth it.”
“Don’t beat yourself up,” she tells me.
“How can I not? I’ve risked everyone’s lives.” I gesture at the wreckage around us. “If we make it back alive, the guild will have our heads.”
“We knew the risks, Aspeth,” Gwenna says, her expression serious. “We know you’re not doing this for your gambler father. You’re doing it for everyone who lives at Honori Hold and has no idea that he’s putting their lives in danger. You’re doing it for the cook, and the stable boy, and my mother, who still works at the hold. You’re doing it for them and you’re doing it to protect yourself. This isn’t a bad thing, Aspeth. I know it’s stealing, but you’re stealing for a good cause. It’s not a bad thing to try to help people other than yourself. Isn’t that why the guild started? They wanted to bring magical objects to people to help them with their day-to-day lives.”
She makes it sound so noble. I’m truly just trying to stay alive…and selfishly, to keep my father alive because I don’t want to be the one running the hold.
We rejoin the others, and Kipp gives us a pained look at the piece of his house in Gwenna’s hands. At Kipp’s expression, she gives him a solemn nod. “I’ll take good care of it, I promise, and then it’s yours again.”
Kipp nods, tapping his chest in what looks like an encouraging gesture.
Gwenna holds the rod out and waits.
We wait, too.
After a long moment, she lowers it. “I…I don’t feel anything.”
“Maybe close your eyes and concentrate?” Mereden asks.
“Right.” Gwenna closes her eyes, focusing, and the “dowsing rod” in her hand jumps to life. It points deeper into the tunnels in the opposite direction of the cave-in.
“It’s working,” I breathe. “Keep your eyes closed.”
“Oh, sure, easy for you to say,” Gwenna mutters, but she does as I suggest. “Someone lead me around, please.” I move to one side and Lark to the other.
“Of course it’s pointing deeper into the tunnel,” Lark says. “There’s nowhere else to go.”
“If you have a better idea, now is the time,” I say.
Kipp just gives us all an exasperated look.
“Fine. I’m shutting up.” Lark hands Mereden her staff. “Let’s go. You need help walking?”
“I’m all right.” Mereden leans heavily on the staff but manages to limp along, favoring her ankle. I stay at Gwenna’s side, the others clustering as close as the rope lead will allow. We move together down the rough-hewn cave, progressing in a slow but steady fashion.
Then, as luck would have it, the candle sputters out.
I curse. Mereden whimpers.
Gwenna pauses in place, her eyes still tightly closed. “What is it? What’s going on?”
“We’re in the dark,” I explain. “Candle went out.”
“Can I open my mucking eyes now?”
“Not yet! Don’t lose the trail,” I tell her. “Let me see if I can make another light somehow.”
Kipp touches my leg, and when I automatically glance down, I notice that the front of my corset is glowing with a soft red light. I fumble in the front of my chemise, digging out the ring. It’s fallen out of the leather pouch, and the moment it clears my clothing, reddish light spills all down the cavern, casting ominous shadows.
“I don’t know if that’s better or worse,” Mereden says.
“Worse,” Lark chimes in. “Definitely worse.”
I hold the ring aloft and eye the tunnels. They look like they’re washed in blood, but there’s light, at least. “Hush,” I tell them. “It beats stumbling around in the darkness.”
“Does it?” Lark asks. “Does it really?”
I ignore her and tie the ring and its ribbon to the top of my staff and hold it aloft, letting it light up the immediate area. “Let’s keep going. Gwenna is onto something.”
Gwenna continues to shuffle ahead with slow steps, the divining rod jumping in her hands. Her eyes are still tightly closed. “I don’t want to lose the trail.” She wanders ahead, moving at a snail’s pace. “You guys are with me, right?”
“We’re right here.”
The tunnel twists and turns, then finally splits. Gwenna jerks to the right, letting the divining rod lead her, and we continue at her side, while the ruins of Old Prell spread out around us.
The rod immediately jerks in her grasp and turns once more, and Gwenna leads us down another tunnel. It abruptly opens up into a large chamber where the ceiling soars higher overhead, propped up by more of the fluting columns that the Prellians were so fond of. Ruins are collapsed along the walls, tumbling amidst the rocks, and water drips down from above. “This looks like an old temple,” Lark points out, her voice echoing. “Were we here before?”
I shake my head, because I’d remember something like this. We must be deeper into the drop than before, or we’ve gone another way.
The divining rod continues to guide us past the front of the temple, and pauses near the stairs. I swing the strange red light toward the stairs, and see what looks like a lump of fabric of some kind.
Oh no.
“Please tell me we need to go up the stairs,” Lark whispers.
“Wait here,” I tell her, and step forward, because my stomach is in knots, and I’m pretty sure that’s not a lump of fabric. Not with my luck.
“We can’t wait here,” she points out, touching my arm. “We’re roped together, remember?”
I keep forgetting. Kipp steps forward, drawing his weapon, and he seems dainty and fragile without the rounded shell of his house on his back. We creep forward as a cluster, and all the while Gwenna’s pointer continues to direct us right toward the pile of rags, which is taking on a larger, more solid shape the closer we get.
Leaning the light in as we approach, I don’t know if I’m the first one to see the guild insignia on his shoulder, but I suck in a breath, and then a moment later, the others do, too.
“That’s not good,” Gwenna says in a trembling voice. “Can I look now?”
“You might as well,” I say. “I don’t know if you’re pointing out artifacts, but you found something, all right.”
Her eyes open and she blinks rapidly, adjusting to the strange red light. “What did I find?”
“A dead guy,” Lark says. “Your second one. You sure you’re dowsing for artifacts?”