Chapter 42
Chapter
Forty-Two
Volten
I paused at the bottom of the stairs. This was it. We were close enough to the dungeon entrance that the scent of mold and too many unwashed bodies was so strong I could almost taste it.
I had been to the dungeons before, but that was in the old academy. The real academy, I reminded myself. This one was only holographic.
Yet this was where Kann had been seriously injured, so the debate about what was real or not was beside the point. This version of the academy was the one that mattered, and this was the one we had to escape.
I clenched my teeth so hard that my jaw ached, reminding myself that I was doing this for Kann.
Get in, get Kann, get out.
I flicked a glance behind me at Britta, wishing that I did not have to worry about keeping her safe on top of rescuing Kann. But I knew that she would never stay behind. Despite my friend’s denials, I could sense a bond between him and the human.
He had looked at her like he had never looked at a female before. He looked at Britta the way Vyk looked at Fiona, or Torq looked at Jess, or I guessed the way I stared at Ariana. And it was not the way one looked at a friend.
Not that any of that mattered. Not now. And it wouldn’t matter at all, if I could not get him out of the dungeon and then the simulation. My heart tripped in my chest as I remembered that the window of opportunity to leave the program was closing. If I did not hurry, we would all be stuck in the simulation.
“Not on my grekking watch,” I said under my breath, as I flattened myself against the wall and took a step. Before I could take another, a sharp hiss cut through the quiet.
I froze, my muscles tensing for a fight. Beside me, Britta went rigid, drawing in a quick breath.
“Over here," the whisper came again, and a figure emerged from one of the shadows.
Britta relaxed. “It’s you.”
I did not take my eyes off the Drexian in a torn uniform with dirt smudged on his face. “Who is this?”
“Zokren.” He said his name quickly and squinted at me. “Wait. You aren’t the Drexian who was with her in the woods.”
Now I slid my gaze to Britta for answers.
“We encountered him in the forest,” she said. “He helped us.”
"Where's Kann?" The Drexian asked, his voice barely audible as he eyed me.
"Captured.” The word was bitter in my mouth. “They took him to the dungeons.”
Britta inclined her head to me. “This is Volten, his best friend. We're going to get him out."
The Drexian's gaze moved between us. I held my breath, knowing how easily he could raise the alarm if he did not believe us. Finally, he gave a slight nod.
"You are either brave or incredibly foolish to enter the dungeons of your own volition,” he muttered. "Though I suppose those often go hand-in-hand."
Rapid footsteps approached from the stairwell we had just descended.
Zokren muttered a curse, then made a quick decision. "Go. Get Kann. I’ll distract them.”
I clapped the Drexian on the shoulder as I passed him and motioned for Britta to follow me. This stranger had no reason to help us, yet he was risking himself. I knew that the Drexians—aside from us—were holographic, but they were frighteningly realistic. Since when did holograms display bravery?
As Britta and I hurried away, Zokren took loud steps in the other direction and called out to the approaching Drexians. "I was just heading up to report..."
I moved as quickly as possible while being virtually silent, the smell of decay growing stronger with each step. Then I spotted the dungeon entrance ahead—a massive iron gate that should have been locked and guarded. Instead, it hung open, creaking slightly in a draft of fetid air.
I paused. This was too easy, too convenient. But we had no choice—Kann was down there, bleeding, possibly dying.
Taking a deep breath, and trying not to gag on the putrid stench, I walked forward into the darkness beyond the gate. Water dripped somewhere in the darkness, a steady rhythm like a countdown. The walls pressed in closer here, the ceiling lower, as if the very architecture was designed to make it feel like being crushed.
Even though the dungeon at the real academy—my academy—was no longer used to house cadets who violated rules, I wondered how many had been brought down here over the centuries. How many had been imprisoned in the dark?
Not Kann, I promised myself. We were going to get him out.
If only we weren't too late.