Fourteen
“So, you mentioned there was a nest,” Halek said after we had walked for several minutes down the tunnel.
The glass tube wasn’t a straight line; it curved and twisted at odd intervals, sometimes getting wider, sometimes narrower.
It also branched out at several intersections, different tunnels winding off into the darkness. It reminded me of what the
inside of a termite nest might look like, if it were made of melted glass. I was worried that the rock beetles would get stuck,
but our guide seemed to know which passageways were large enough for us all to fit through.
The rodent creature twitched an ear, glancing back at us. “Yes,” he said, and continued hopping forward. He did not elaborate.
Either he was in too much of a hurry to catch the social cue, or he didn’t care.
Halek grimaced and jogged forward a few paces. “So, how many of you are there down here?” he asked, his voice relentlessly
cheerful. “Are we talking a dozen, a few dozen, a few hundred? Did you build these tunnels, or were they always here? Also,
how have I not heard anything about this? I mean, an entire race of magical, teleporting rats is something I would expect
the Fatechasers to have wild legends about, but I haven’t heard even one story.”
“Meeka is not rat.” The creature continued to hop down the tunnel, not pausing or looking back this time, though his voice was indignant. “Name given to us by creator king was jair’oa.”
“Creator king?” Beside me, Raithe frowned. “Are you talking about a Deathless?”
“Yes.”
Again, Meeka didn’t elaborate. I was starting to suspect that the jair’oa was going to answer questions only if asked directly,
and not because he was being evasive—that was just how his mind worked.
“Why did you help us?” I asked, causing him to tilt his head back at me. “We are grateful,” I added, not wanting to offend
the creature, the jair’oa. “But now you’ve put yourself and your nest in danger. You could have ignored us out there, and we would’ve been none the
wiser.”
Meeka turned to face us in the tunnel. “Meeka was sent for you,” he said, dark eyes solemn as he gazed up at me. “Rememberers
send Meeka to fetch human creatures, save human creatures from Dead Thing. They wish to speak to human creature who left offering
of life fluid.”
I frowned, remembering the small bowl of water I’d put down for the tiny creatures I’d seen on the surface of the dunes. It
seemed that small act of kindness had bigger consequences than I’d anticipated. “Rememberers?” I repeated, making the jair’oa
blink. “What are they?”
“Rememberers are Rememberers,” Meeka answered, as if that were obvious. “Rememberers remember things. Things jair’oa forget.
Send Meeka with many star grubs to fetch human creatures. Save human from dead thing. Meeka not afraid.”
“Star grubs?” Halek asked, and when Meeka did not answer, he quickly elaborated. “What are star grubs? They sound like something a Damassi drug den would be peddling.”
“This star grub.” Meeka reached a paw into his leather satchel and pulled out the caterpillar thing that pulsated softly in
the dim light of the tunnel. It squirmed in the jair’oa’s claws, looking very soft and squishy.
“So do you eat them?” I asked, remembering how the jair’oa had bitten down on it right before we vanished and appeared in
the tunnel. And quickly, to avoid a one-word reply, I added, “What are the star grubs used for?”
“Magic.” Meeka slipped the glowing insect back in its satchel, plunging the tunnel into shadows again. “Magic uses life—that
is what creator king told past jair’oa. Creator king took life from human creatures, jair’oa take life from star grub. Use
star grub to blink ourselves to surface and back. Creator king disappeared, many cycles ago, but jair’oa stayed. We remember.”
A tremor went through the tunnel, causing the sands over our heads to shift and flow down the sides of the glass. Meeka looked
up, huge ears flattening to its skull. “Dead thing still looking for you,” he said, hopping backward over the glass. “Come,
come. Questions later. We must reach nest. This way.”
He turned and hopped quickly down a clear side tunnel, leaving the rest of us to hurry after the tiny body.
“I have so many questions,” Halek muttered, dropping his voice for only us to hear.
“Does anyone else feel like their brain just went through an obstacle course? And I thought talking to a Fatechaser about Fate made you want to pull your hair out.” He raked a hand through his hair, his brow furrowed in concentration.
“So, these jair’oa can use magic by eating these special glowing maggots?
That’s different, and terrifying. If that doesn’t sound like a story from a Tahveena drug brothel, I don’t know what does. ”
“It’s not different,” Kysa said calmly, shaking her head. “Magic must come from somewhere,” she continued, as Halek looked
at her in disbelief. “The Deathless Kings took it from the world around them. The ma’jhet sacrifice living creatures using
rituals to gain power. There is always a price, something that must be traded. These jair’oa are simply using the lives of
these star grubs to fuel their magic. I doubt the grubs themselves are anything special.”
Raithe was nodding in agreement. “Still, the fact that they can use magic is interesting,” he murmured. “In the past, the ancient kings bestowed their power upon only a special few, their
most loyal servants. The ma’jhet were given such power to help keep the kingdom in check, to sway and intimidate when the
kings couldn’t be bothered. Or sometimes to act against the other kingdoms in a way that would not lead to open war.”
“Yes, but unless these jair’oa are more powerful than we realize, I cannot see how a king would use them against his rivals,”
Kysa said. “They are too small to be effective warriors.
“Maybe they weren’t his servants at all,” Halek suggested. “Maybe they were his beloved pets.”
Kysa gave him a strange look, as if the thought of a Deathless loving a pet was odd, and Halek shrugged.
“People can get crazy about their pets,” he said.
“I heard of a sultan in Tahveena who spent a fortune on keeping his pack of dune runners happy. The stories said his dogs slept on silk cushions, ate better than the nobles in the court, and if they didn’t wag their tails when the sultan greeted them each morning, someone would literally lose their head.
” He shivered and rubbed his arms. “Also, is it getting colder down here?”
“Yes.” Raithe nodded. “We’ve been walking at a slight downward angle for a while now.” He held a hand up to his face, rubbing
two fingers together. “The air is changing, too. It’s similar to how Irrikah feels, full of moisture, but not as warm. We
must be going deep underground.”
“Well, considering that this desert has supposedly swallowed a city, I’m guessing this nest has to be below the sand.” Halek
gazed up at the glass ceiling, at the unending amount of sand pressing down above us, and an uneasy expression crossed his
face. “So, how strong do you think this glass is?” he mused. “Not that I’m thinking of what would happen if it cracked and
a thousand tons of sand came rushing in. Being buried alive in the middle of a forgotten desert isn’t the glorious fate I
would hope for . . .” He trailed off at the glares being shot his way by everyone around him, and gave a weak smile. “But
I’m sure these jair’oa know what they’re doing.”
Abruptly, the scenery beyond the passage changed.
We had been traveling through sand that, even deep underground, pressed down on us from every side.
But as we turned a bend, I saw something huge and flat up against the tunnel wall on the outside.
After a moment of staring through the blurry glass, I realized it was the side of a building.
The walls were made of cracked brick, and I could see what might’ve been an arched window near the top.
Halek blew out a breath, gazing up at the crumbling wall. “Yep, that is definitely a building,” he stated. “Or the ruins of
one. I guess the rumors about the sunken city are real after all.”
“Human creatures!”
Farther down the tunnel, Meeka turned, standing tall on his hind legs as he beckoned to us with a paw. The light on the end
of his tail bobbed gently back and forth over his head.
“Nest is close now,” the jair’oa told us as we approached. “No one has seen human creatures in many generations. Colony will
be curious, ask many questions. No need for human creatures to answer. Meeka will take you to Rememberers. Rememberers will
ask human creatures important questions.”
“So, are these Rememberers your leaders?” Halek asked. “Like the alphas of a sand wolf pack?”
“Rememberers remember things,” the jair’oa said once again, emphasizing the word, as if we were rather thick for not understanding. “Important
things. Things jair’oa forget. Everything about creator king and kingdom that was here before. Rememberers say one day creator
king will return. They must keep memories safe until creator king comes back.”
Raithe stiffened beside me but said nothing. Clearly, he didn’t like the idea of another Deathless coming back. Meeka scrubbed
both paws over his nose and hopped away before we could ask more questions, and we had no choice but to follow.
Kysa shook her head, her mouth pressed into a grim line.
“I do not like the fact that there is yet another group of creatures that wish to bring a Deathless back into the world,” she murmured.
“One has been devastating enough. I already fear the world will not survive the return of the Deathless King in Kovass. I am still uncertain of the motives of the Deathless queen.” She did not look at Raithe as she said this, and the kahjai did not answer.
“If yet another Deathless appears,” Kysa went on, her voice growing fierce, “how will anything be left standing if they start to war with each other again?”
“Maybe history won’t repeat itself,” Halek offered. “Maybe the Deathless learned from their mistake last time, and they’ll