Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
FOX
H e moved the opposite direction this time, away from the entry and the light, one hand dragging silently along the rough wall, keeping his direction in the dark. With every step, he was amazed at how far the tunnel went on. He was excited when the feel of the darkness changed and the wall on his left gave way to air. There was another tunnel here.
He stepped forward only to immediately regret the decision. The floor slanted downward and icy water closed over his boot. His toes went numb almost instantly even protected as they were, and he let out a curse that echoed in the darkness.
He didn’t bother with a second step, stumbling back quickly to resume his journey down a different path. He turned down three more tunnels, all with the same problem before he finally found a dry one. It didn’t solve the problem of his numb and aching toes, but he was all too glad for a change in his luck. He was still slow as he moved, all too aware the ground could slope at any moment, but he gained confidence with each dry step.
If anything, this path was slanting ever so slightly upward. After what felt like hours stumbling around in the blackness, he’d finally found what had to be a tunnel out. There were no doors along the wall that he could feel and the silence here was even more oppressive than the other halls, as if nothing but the worms had breathed this air in cycles. It had to lead somewhere and it was far from the rebels who wanted him dead.
He just needed to find the end before they noticed he was gone and came after him. His feet sped up automatically at the thought, the adrenaline of the last day pushing him through his exhaustion and hunger. His shoes had dried, but his toes still ached from the cold and his throat burned from lack of water. The thirst had only worsened when he’d tried some of the water back at the sunken tunnels. He’d spit it out, but not before the salty taste had dried his mouth out further. They had to have fresh water somewhere in the base, but he hadn’t had time to search it out. It would be his first task once he came out of the tunnels.
He knew there had to be fresh water in the rainforest, even if it was rare. The land here didn’t allow for rivers above ground, the greedy soil soaking up every rare drop of rain that fell from the sky. But the fresh water gathered into underground rivers and lakes. It was how the Dragonborn had survived before the king had created the filtration systems a couple centuries back. One of the bits of technology they’d brought to the Dragonborn who spit on them and called them evil in response for not cowing down to monsters.
* * *
Fox lost all track of time as he walked through the darkness, only aware of the ground beneath his feet and the cold air in his lungs. His eyes never adjusted to the pitch black, and even with the cloak, he started to shiver as the temperature dropped with each hour. He wondered if it was possible the tunnel led all the way to the northern mountains.
The icy peaks were near mythical despite being just over a week’s journey from the city. When the Dereyans had supposedly defeated the dragons and won the tribal war, the king had wanted to expand Suvi’s control farther into the Wueco forest and the mountains. Most of the Dragonborn tribes, too superstitious for their own good, had never ventured past the foothills. King Regold sent a handful of units to the mountains over the cycles, but no one ever came back. After a while, he gave up and focused back on protecting his city against the closer threat: rebel factions and tribes vying for power. As far as Fox knew, no one had been to the mountains in at least four generations. He didn’t believe the Dragonborn stories that the mountains were haunted and humans couldn’t cross into the snowy domain, but he still didn’t want to be the first Dereyan to stumble into them unprepared.
Then again, if he was still stuck in this tunnel in a few days, he’d have bigger problems to worry about than mythical mountains—like water. His thirst gnawed at him. He could almost hear the sound of water rushing, like the ocean on a windy day. The fresh smell of icy air made his breath deepen and he almost smiled.
It took Fox several seconds to realize he wasn’t going crazy or daydreaming. The air in the cramped tunnel had changed and he could almost smell the foliage of the rainforest. His footsteps picked up pace. He kept walking just long enough that he began to question his own instinct.
Then his hand hit something solid and cold in front of him. The tunnel had come to an end.
The stone felt as solid as the walls, but he refused to give up. He could smell fresh air, and no one digs a tunnel to nowhere, no matter how ignorant and blasphemous they were. Using all the strength he had left in him he pressed his weight against the stone and pushed.
Something shifted and scraped in the darkness. Giving himself only a short moment to breathe, he pushed again and the massive boulder that was set across the tunnel opening moved. A sliver of light scattered the darkness around him. He never thought he’d be so happy to see the wild rainforest. It took another dozen shoves before the opening was wide enough to allow him to squeeze through, stone cold against his shoulders as he finally fell from the underground tunnel.
The dirt was hard where he landed, without underbrush to break his fall. He couldn’t stop himself from groaning as every bone in his body shuddered with the impact. He didn’t move for a moment. He lay on his back, looking up at the swaying canopy of trees above him. They were taller than he’d ever seen before, and he had the same feeling of vertigo looking up as he’d had staring down from the eastern city wall for the first time as a boy. Looking back, he could barely see the tunnel he’d just come from, only a sliver of shadow in an outcrop of rocks from this side. If he hadn’t just slipped through the crack, he’d assume it was simply a shadow, not an entrance.
After a few more breaths, he shifted carefully, taking in the aches across his body as he pushed himself up. He was bruised and weak and exhausted, but nothing was broken, and the cuts he’d received sometime last night were already clotted over and beginning to tighten into scabs. It was this thought that had his eyes searching the canopy, trying to read the sky beyond. It was daylight out, but as he took in the shadows around him, he realized it was likely almost sunset. He’d walked through the night and most of the next day. His absence would have been noticed by now.
And he had no idea where he was.
He definitely hadn’t walked into the mountains, although the trees around him were unfamiliar and the ground here wilder than that around the city.
The shadows were lengthening with every second he spent standing still and he didn’t know how far of a head start he had on any pursuers. But before he left, he had one more thing to do.
It took him a few minutes of searching before he found what he needed. One of the nearby trees had a single vine of black flowers twisting around it. The petals of each were furled tightly closed, only those closest to the forest floor beginning to loosen and open as night approached. He plucked one of these and peeled back the petals as he returned to the cave entrance. He smeared the flower’s pistil across the gray stone in the symbol any king’s man would recognize, happy to see the faintest glow as a shadow passed over it. The flower’s job done, he discarded it before doing his best to push the boulder back over the entrance. He wasn’t going to make it easy for anyone coming after him.
He also took a mental picture of the forest around him, trying to memorize the shape of the trees and the position of the stones. The flower’s pollen would do the job of marking the opening, but he’d still need to find his way back to the spot if he intended to show his superiors. Something good would come of all of this. Perhaps his father would overlook his being captured if he brought them to the resistance’s base.
Then again, his mind was getting away from him and his thoughts weren’t focusing on the important pieces right now. Like the fact that he had no idea where he was, the sun had just about set, and he was still likely being chased. He needed to leave and find somewhere safe to get through the night. At least it would be harder for the others to find him in the dark.
He was grateful for the dry and hard-packed dirt on the forest floor, leaving behind little evidence of his footsteps as he moved. He didn’t pay attention to what direction he was walking, not that he could have told without a view of the sun to lead him. Instead, he moved away from the tunnel, looking for a tree to climb. He doubted he’d be able to sleep perched on a branch, but he’d feel safer away from the ground and with the advantage over anything coming toward him.
But so far, the tall, towering trees with their wide trunks looked nearly impossible to climb. He kept an eye out for other rocky outcrops or low-lying plants that could hide him, desperate for anywhere he could find to stop moving. The forest was coming alive rapidly with the dusk, the black flowers glowing a dark purple as they bloomed and luminous green and red mushrooms peeking out from under dead underbrush.
It gave him light to walk by, but it also did nothing to help him feel hidden or safe. If anything, the subtle glow of the rainforest around him only made it possible to see all the slinking animals skittering around the ground. So far they’d kept their distance, but he didn’t know how long that would last.
He was trying to push this thought from his mind when he heard a branch snap from the shadows to his left. His muscles froze, as if he might melt into the shadows himself if he were still enough. But then there was another snap, closer this time. He knew there was no hope in being invisible.
Someone—or something—had found him.