Chapter 3
Chapter three
The Council
Winding red sandstone steps stretch into eternity before me.
I’ve never been to the central buildings, and while I might enjoy climbing canyons, I do not enjoy endlessly climbing stairs.
Caius leads the way, and with each floor we climb, I have to work harder to keep my breathing light.
Pain throbs through my ribs with each step.
Once the strain builds to an unbearable searing pain, Caius glances over his shoulder at me. A grin twists his lips as he delights in my suffering. He doesn’t miss a beat, continuing to keep his steady pace.
“Do you need a break?” The words sound kind, but I know Caius. There is no kindness in him.
“I’m just fine, thank you.” I grin at him with more teeth than mirth, the expression akin to a snarl.
Caius chuckles and looks forward again. “Suit yourself. We’re nearly there.”
If three more floors count as nearly there?
Caius pauses before a set of double doors. The thick stone is carved into a swirling design that resembles clouds whipping away from the opening.
Caius lets out a breath as he straightens to his full height, towering over me like the statue of Ilunahēi'àn, the same feeling tingling down my spine that I feel every morning when I glance up at the god. He runs his palms down his black tunic, pressing away wrinkles that aren’t there, then turns to me.
He looks me over, and I almost think I see worry reflected in his eyes.
Just a flash, then it’s gone, and only the cold, hard glare of Captain Amarala remains.
“Ready?” It’s more of a command than a question.
I suck in another deep breath through my nose, then force it out again, willing my heart rate to slow.
My braid is half undone, loose tendrils plastered around my face where I can feel perspiration mixing with the dirt.
My clothes aren’t much better, with red dirt smeared over the dark fabric.
There’s nothing to be done of it now. But before I answer, I notice Caius’ rigid posture and overly neat uniform from the corner of my eye.
I quickly pat my hands over my clothing, doing little more than sending up a cloud of fine red dust that settles over the contours of Caius’ pockets and dulls the shine of his boots.
“Now I’m ready.” I mash my lips together to hide my smirk. The way Caius’ nostrils flare sends a thrill of satisfaction through me.
Caius yanks the oversized doors apart with one fluid motion. The slabs of stone ease open on silent hinges. I inspect the construction as best I can as I pass through. It’s truly a marvelous achievement. Stone doors are cumbersome to craft, which is why most homes don’t have them.
Caius clears his throat, and my attention snaps forward just in time to keep me from walking straight into his back. I stumble to a halt, then ease around the large man blocking my view.
We stand before a massive carved sandstone table that runs the entire length of the room.
The legs are crafted into intricate, tangling stone roots, burrowing into the stone floor.
Behind the table sit seven figures, each dressed in court finery, embroidered silk colored with exotic dyes, each in a different shade of the prism, reflecting their house colors. The council.
I recognize Aurelia immediately in her indigo robes; Dom’s aunt and guardian.
She had taken him in when he was three, after his parents died in a cave-in.
Having never wanted children of her own, she did her best to care for him, but there was a reason my family had adopted him in every way but name.
Aurelia was shrewd and cunning, the most powerful member of the council, second to one.
The way she looks at me now makes my skin crawl; more pity in her dark gaze than kindness.
Her tight dark curls streaked through with gray are platted into tiny braids woven into a knot atop her head.
“I present Oliviana Lux, Master Tinkerer,” Caius says, giving my full title.
I recognize Nero Amarala next. While the Amarala house color is green, Nero’s robes are so dark they’re nearly black.
Only the faintest sheen of color ripples through the fabric as he shifts forward in his seat.
He is Caius’ father, and head of the council.
They share the same strong jaw, olive complexion and broad build, but where Caius’ eyes are the light green of fresh sage, his father’s gaze is dark and all-consuming.
Those malachite eyes drill into Caius, who stands unflinching.
Nero clears his throat and flicks his gaze to the doors, yet Caius remains planted in place, his hands folded in front of him, shoulders pulled back, as if he is the one who had received the summons.
After the silence has grown uncomfortable, Nero finally breaks his gaze away from his son, nostrils flaring with annoyance. He turns those dark eyes on me.
I straighten up and look forward. Heat races across my cheeks as if I’ve been caught watching a private moment.
“Oliviana Lux, as in daughter of Damascus Lux?” Nero asks with a sneer.
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Nero knows who I am. They all do. Why do they insist on putting on this show?
“That’s right,” I lift my chin defiantly. “I am Oliviana Lux, Master Tinkerer, daughter of Damascus Lux Master Tinkerer.”
One of the council members snorts. The man looks as if he’s had one too many meals, his persimmon robes nearly bursting at the seams. He narrows his beady eyes at me, and I return my gaze to Nero, who now wears a loathsome smile.
“That’s good, very good. It just so happens that we are in need of a Master Tinkerer.”
I don’t like the emphasis he puts on the word.
“Are you familiar with the aqueducts?” Nero continues.
I nod slowly, not sure where this conversation is going.
“Your father built them, you know.” Nero stares at me intensely, as if to gauge my reaction.
“He designed the entire current aqua infrastructure, actually.” I correct with a grin of my own.
My victory is short-lived, the smile stretching ever wider on Nero’s face tearing the bottom out from my stomach.
I’m not certain it could truly be called a smile, more akin to a predator baring its fangs.
It hits me now that he is the spider, and I have stumbled into his web.
Best tread lightly if I am to come out of this alive.
“Yes, that’s right. He designed the whole thing. He also nearly destroyed it,” Nero says.
Lies. I bite my tongue to hold back the retort.
“And tell me, do you share your father’s talents?”
I catch Caius glancing at me from the corner of his eye. He stands so close I can feel the heat radiating off his muscular frame. Annoyance flares through me, and I answer more boldly than I should have.
“I share his talents, and more.” The words are out before I can think better of them. It’s true; I’m good, even better than my father ever was. But the council doesn’t need to know that.
Nero chuckles, and I feel the pressure of his trap pressing in around me. “Perfect. We have a job for you.”
I look nervously across the expressions of each of the council members. There is more to this proposition than Nero will say. Can I find a way out?
“The aqua structure is in need of repair.”
Now he has my attention. “Was there a rockslide? I didn’t feel the tremors.”
“No, no, nothing like that.” Nero waves a hand dismissively. “The entire infrastructure needs to be checked for maintenance—”
“Impossible!” I say.
Nero glares at me, and I know I’ve made a mistake by interrupting him. “And yet, this is the job. You will check every meter of pipe and channel and stream until you can confirm that the entire aqua structure is in pristine working condition.”
I thumb nervously at my belt. “All due respect, Councilman Amarala but that structure was built to last generations. If my father’s calculations hold, then it may even outlast us all.”
I see it before the words are out of Nero’s mouth. Snap, the trap closes around me. “Then your father’s calculations were wrong, and you will fix it.” Nero punctuates his point by throwing a bulging bag on the table. The drawstrings are pulled tight, hiding the currency.
“Silver?” I cock a brow.
Nero loosens the strings, releasing a landslide of gold onto the red stone table, the rectangular coins tinkling softly where they land, the etchings of the gods pressed into the malleable metal glint in the light of the moss-packed glow globes. But there are no gods here.
I gasp at the sight of it. It’s too much.
“I couldn’t possibly—”
“And yet you will.” Nero scoops the coins back into the purse and sets it at the edge of the table. “You start tomorrow.”
I glance at the faces around the room, and I see it now; most look at me with a degree of pity, a few with disdain, but they all eye me like helpless prey about to be devoured.
I push out a breath. I couldn’t possibly deny that amount of money.
It’s not that we need it. I make more than enough selling wood trinkets to take care of my mother.
But with the scant number of tinkering jobs I take on, I couldn’t possibly explain turning down that amount of coin.
Damn. I scoop up the purse and toss it idly in my hand as I give Nero a cocky grin so fake my teeth ache, and I hope he can’t see through the false gravitas.
“Whatever you say, boss.” I give him a mock salute and turn to leave.
“One more thing,” Nero calls out after me. “Captain Amarala will oversee your work.”
I’m not sure whose protests are louder, Caius’ or mine, as I turn back to the council.
“What good could he possibly do? He is only going to slow me down,” I say while Caius speaks over me.
“I am needed in the southern tunnels. The glow moss has dimmed to dusk, and the southern horde grows bolder—”
Nero holds up a hand to silence us both.
“Caius,” Nero levels a stare that says there will be no arguments at his son. “You will do as you’re told.”
Caius straightens and nods. “Of course.”
With his son cowed, Nero turns his attention to me.
“Caius will oversee your work.” The tone he uses now makes me certain this is not a battle I will win.
I hold his stare a moment longer before I shrug. “Whatever you say.”
I don’t wait for any further discourse. This has all gone terribly wrong, and I crave nothing more than escape from this tomb carved up into the sky.
As soon as I’ve slipped back through those heavy doors, I dash for the stairway, taking the steps two at a time.
I fly down the spiral steps at a dizzying rate, risking a fall.
But I don’t care. I have to get away from this place as quickly as possible.
Nero has sprung his trap. I am already ensnared, but in what I’m not sure. I need distance to sort this out.
I burst out onto the busy central street in front of city hall, finding small comfort in anonymity as I disappear into the crowd—Fingertips dig into my biceps. I struggle against my captor, the motion sending pain radiating across my bruised ribs, and I still.
“Let go,” I growl, turning to stare Caius down.
Now that he has my attention, his grip slackens, and I tug my arm away. I give him one last look of disgust before I turn and stomp off, or at least I try to. I only get two steps away before he has me by the arm again. This time when I tug away, he lifts his hands placatingly.
“Don’t make this difficult. I just need to escort you home.” His words sound kinder than I would have expected.
I snort. “And why should I make anything easy on you?”
The way he looks at me, I almost believe he’s hurt by my words.
“Listen, Oliviana, we are stuck with one another for the duration of this project. Why don’t we just go easy on each other until we can go our separate ways again?”
I cant my head to the side, tapping a fingertip against my lips in mock thought. “Tempting…but no.” I turn and continue my walk out of the central cavern.
Caius falls in step beside me. “Come on, we are both adults now. We can keep things civil.”
“Can and will are not the same thing,” I retort.
“I don’t want to be in this situation any more than you do. The least you can do—”
“The least I can do?” I whirl to face him, planting my feet in the middle of the busy street. “The least I can do.” I jab a finger in his chest to accent my point.
Caius shakes his head. “Can we not do this here?”
“What? Don’t want the whole city to know your dirty laundry?”
“That was ten rotations ago—”
“You led me into that trap!” I change the subject, not wanting to talk about what happened all those rotations ago. I narrow my eyes and hope he can feel the burn of my rage.
Again, his eyes betray him.
“You didn’t know.”
Caius clamps his jaw shut, but I can tell from the way the muscle twitches that I’m right.
“Why didn’t they tell you? You’re the captain of the guard. Aren’t you supposed to be important?”
“I am important,” he says the words, yet I hear doubt in his tenor.
“If you’re so important, why are you stuck babysitting me while I fix pipes that don’t need fixing?”
In lieu of an answer, Caius sets his jaw and marches off. The crowd jostles me, no longer holding enough space, and I jog to catch up with him.
We walk in silence the rest of the way. My mind is churning with the possibilities while Caius appears to be content with the fact that I’m allowing him to fulfill his responsibility as my chaperone with little interference.
My home is in the Eztia sub-cavern, the furthest you can get from the city proper.
It’s quiet, with stacked, hexagonal dwellings carved into the perimeter and a wide-open space in the center where children play and families enjoy their evening meal under the soft light of the glow moss, Guārgia and Ilunahēi'àn watching over them.
Caius stops at the mouth of the cavern.
“I’ll meet you here tomorrow at the start of first shift—”
I groan, “Come on, Caius, first shift?”
“First shift.” His tone brokers no argument, and I feel that the fight has gone out of me.
My ribs ache, and my head hurts, and I want nothing more than to drink a strong tonic and pass out. Maybe tomorrow I’ll wake up and find this whole ordeal was just a nightmare brought on by my excitement on the surface.
I roll my eyes and give Caius a sardonic salute.
“Whatever you say, Fox.” I can’t help the grin that stretches across my face as I watch his jaw tick again.
If I’m going to be stuck with Caius for the foreseeable future, I’m going to get him with every dig I can.
What’s the saying? If I'm not having fun, then no one shall? Something like that.