22. Lina
Lina
I wake to soft fur against my skin, and for a long moment, I assume I am still dreaming. Lying on a cloud, or in my mother’s warm bed in my childhood home that is still standing.
I blink my dry eyes open and find myself in that small circular cave.
My heart begins racing immediately as reality spins its way back into place.
They took me. Tore me from freedom and Astella. Now, I am in their den.
I somehow survived their rituals and am not in line to be sacrificed to their gods or eaten by their reptiles—yet—but instead, I was claimed by the worst of them.
Last night, he made it very clear that I am not a guest. I am a captive, and if I don’t obey, he’ll kill me. There is every chance that this all ends with me burned alive or bled dry or fed to the draken.
I am inside their mountain, deep underground, where no one has ever returned. What nightmares will I face in this city filled with death worshipers?
My heart speeds up. The room is empty, except the seemingly random trinkets and the bed. The weapons that lined the walls are noticeably absent. I pat my thigh. My small blade is still there.
In this room, I am relatively safe. As long as my Dread remains absent.
I flop back against the furs. I haven’t laid in a real feather bed in years and I’ve never felt such decadent blankets as this thick fur.
If I could choose my fate, I’d choose anything but this—warm blankets be damned. I don’t know how long it’s been—there is no sunlight here to tell when the sun has risen—but I would guess I slept for a few hours.
Outside the bed, the air is freezing, so I have little intention on exiting.
I lie there, staring up at the domed ceiling. The room is maybe ten feet tall and ten feet wide. Its depth only slightly longer than it’s width. There isn’t even room to pace to release nervous energy.
As much as I hadn’t gone looking for food, the crackers the boy gave me were very welcome on my empty stomach.
Astella and I have been eating crumbs, half-rotten crops and jars of dried meat.
We only got sick a handful of times on that food, which is enough to prove luck hasn’t abandoned us entirely.
When we did get sick, it made for a rough few days.
Even worse when it wasn’t me sick but Astella. The fear that I’d be left all alone if she died clung to me more than any disease could.
And now, here I am, alone.
And she is out there, alone.
For a moment, I consider that this is the worst possible fate, but no it cannot be because we still have a chance. While I live, I will try. I choose to believe there will come a day when we are together again.
I send a little prayer to my friend, my sister. Please be okay. Please continue fighting. I am alive; I am fighting.
My mother once told me what fighting really means. Even as a child, I was smaller than most and not brave enough to defend myself against bullies. I also knew the beasts of the forest could take me with little resistance. I was helpless.
But she told me that I did not need my fists; my spirit was all that was ever needed to fight. Fighting is about resistance. It is about bravery. It is about mental fortitude.
I throw the furs from my body, as if they were the demons themselves, luring me into a trap.
There are books in the corner of the room, and since I’m left with time I don’t know how to fill without pacing and freezing my toes off, I grab one and settle back down in the warm furs.
If they’re part of my torment, so be it.
The book has a brown leather cover with no discernible title. The words are handwritten.
The first page says: Drakai for the Ages.
For a moment, I think I’ve found a research tome on the reptilian creatures of the Drak’yn, but as I begin reading, I quickly realize the story is fictional. It stars a princess of a kingdom I’ve never heard of, whose mother forces her to marry a faraway prince.
He is beautiful and rich and altogether too good to be true.
She marries him and is left to live in a foreign land. I am only a small portion into the story when there is a knock on my door.
I flinch and immediately hide the book under the blankets. Fear pulses through my veins, ripping me from the story world and into reality.
I want to crawl back into my corner and cower like a child.
The lock jingles before the door swings open, and instead of my Dread, I find a woman. She is near my age—young, but with mature enough features not to be mistaken for a child. She wears an embroidered, long sleeve gown, and her hair is smooth brown twisted into braids.
“Greetings, new Drahkita!”
I grimace at the word. I’ve never heard it before, but it’s similar enough to their words for their lizard creatures that I am immediately disgusted.
The woman wrinkles her nose and eyes me. Her crumpled face twists into a sad, forced smile. I am disgusted by them, and she is disgusted by me.
“You are hungry, yes?”
I press my lips together. I’m starving—literally—but what kind of food are they going to serve me here? Uncooked meat? Blood? Bones?
Or maybe more crackers. Those weren’t so bad.
“Come, come. Your Drak has hired me to show you our way. It is good work, and I intend to make him proud.” She claps her hands and throws her arms wide.
The disgust is wiped from her face, and now I find only sincere excitement. On her wrist is a small threaded band with a golden charm.
“Come, come! I will get you food and water. New clothes and a bath. You will feel much better once you’re in a better condition. I promise.”
I don’t move, and the woman clicks her tongue. “Lovely girl, you must move or you will be stuck in this little dwelling for days. You do not want this. Our way is nicer than you have come to believe. Come see for yourself.”
She is right that I don’t want to be trapped in this room for days, especially considering my only chance at true escape is out there. I must learn more about this place.
Hope lives in information.
I sigh and again force myself from the bed and onto the stone floor.
“You have no shoes?” she asks with a tilt of her head. “Is that your way?”
I look down at my dirt-covered feet. “No, it is not my way.” I don’t explain more. My shoes are likely in this room somewhere—or did my Dread remove them? The girl just nods and guides me from the room like a mother hen with her chick.
“We will get you shoes too,” she says. “The den is too cold for bare toes.”
I follow the girl down the carved stone corridors I’d traversed last night, watching each turn carefully. I remember my Dread’s words. I am only here by his invitation, and I am not to break any rules.
Her skirt swishes rhythmically as she walks quickly and turns down a hall I recognize. This is where I met the young warrior last night.
There is no natural light to be found in this place, making everything strangely dim with shifting shadows. The only light comes from flickering flames—torches or lanterns or roaring fireplaces, giving everything an orange hue.
She brings me to a large meeting room with a massive wooden table and metal chandelier.
“This is the meeting hall for our quarter. There are several others just like this in other areas of the den, but this is ours. Here, you will commune and dine with the other Drahkitas in our quarter.”
“I know you!”
The woman and I jump in unison and turn to find a maskless warrior with soft locks of brown hair. The boy from last night.
“Gordian!” the woman says, surprised.
“Sorry if I scared you, Helena. I was just saying hi to the new Drahkita.” His eyes turn to me. He awkwardly adjusts the large sword at his belt. He is clearly not used to the weight of it. “I didn’t get your name last night.” His brown eyes turn to me, a sweet smile on his lips.
Maybe he truly is as kind as he seems.
I feel like I hold no value here at all, but he told me I was someone important.
“Do you know your name?” he asks, tilting his head.
“Of course she knows her name.” The woman waves a hand at him. “Drahkitas are shy in the beginning stages, you know this.”
His grin widens. “I do know this.”
“Lina,” I say quietly.
“Drahkita Lina, a lovely name.”
Helena’s voice drops low. “How did you meet last night?”
“Oh…” He looks down at his boots. “Well, she came out for something to eat.”
Helena waits, chin tucked like she’s expecting something more.
“With Haze, of course,” he says, cheeks reddening. “You can ask him!”
She lifts her chin but doesn’t smile. “You worry me sometimes, child. Come, Drahkita Lina, I have some food ready for you.”
Helena grabs a basket from a table in the corner and sets it on the massive wooden table.
“As I was saying, this is the community room for our quarter. We are station six. You will have the option to dine with others from your station here at designated times. For now, I will guide you to those, or ensure you are fed independently if you’d rather.
” She flips over the cloth covering the contents of the basket.
She shoos the boy away as I stare at the pile of breads. Some light, some dark, some brown, some with mixtures of various colors. I’ve never seen such an assortment.
“Choose one,” she prompts. “I’m partial to the banana.”
My brow pinches. “Which is that?”
She grabs the yellow muffin and hands it to me.
I lick my lips absently as she covers the other breads and removes the basket.
I carefully bring the bread up to my nose to sniff it. My god, the smell is nothing like I’ve ever experienced.
“Sit! I will get you juice.”
I follow her instruction, sit on the bench, and bite into the crumbly bread. Spices zing on my tongue. It is warm and soft and utterly delicious. My next bites are ravenous, shoving it too fast into my mouth and struggling to swallow.
She chuckles and hands me a glass, which I gulp down so fast I barely taste it. That is not water , I realize as I finish the last drop. It tastes like drinking an apple.
“Tell me,” she says, “is it as Gordian says? You came here with your Drak, and he served you?”
My lips part as I consider my answer. Gordian was kind and gracious about me being off on my own, but the Dread was less so. He was far from pleased. And the conversation between Helena and Gordian has me pondering how my place here may be particularly precarious.
“Yes,” I answer finally. “He gave me crackers, and my… my Drak walked me back to the room.”
She breathes deeply. “All right, then. You must be careful of your actions here. You are special, and some will take advantage of that. Men like the Drak are—well, they are challenging companions. Gordian is good, but he is foolish at times.”
She must read some concern on my face because she quickly places her hand on mine in a comforting motion. “Follow the rules, and all will be well.”
I force a smile as she stands and beckons me to follow her again. “There will be more food soon. But first, it is time to get all of that mud and grime off of you. You will love being clean!”
I grimace. I’m unsure I know what clean even means anymore. Astella and I bathed in the rivers regularly, but there were few soaps available. Dirt and dust clung to us before we even reclothed.
Helena again places her arm in mine and guides me down the hall, farther than I’d traveled yesterday. “Don’t worry, this is the best part of the day. Everyone agrees.”
I still try my best to watch the doors and new halls we pass, keeping track of where I see more warriors standing guard.
Soon, the sound of rushing water grows from a soft murmur to a roaring threat. We pass two maskless warriors and stop at the third.
“Helena,” he says, face hard and emotionless.
“I am escorting our new Drahkita!” she squeaks out nervously.
The man looks me up and down. “Who does she belong to?”
“Azkel Haze.”
The guard frowns and shifts his uncertain gaze from me to Helena. “Impossible.”
“It’s true!” she says quickly, standing on her toes. “You didn’t hear about it yet? He challenged Ivar in this epic dual and revealed some of the strongest Khoas we’ve seen in ages.”
The guard’s mouth drops open. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not.” Her eyes sparkle. She is eager to share this tale. She leans in and continues in a hushed tone. “Lealuis witnessed it. Ask him.”
The man blinks and shakes his head. “All right. You may pass. You better not be messing with me, Hel.”
“Never.” She smiles. The guard turns to his side to allow us to pass, and Helena guides me through the doorway.
The roaring sound of water is louder than ever. Only a few steps past the guard, Helena stops and throws out her arm. “Welcome to the Soul Cascade.”