9. The Lantern Mile
Chapter nine
The Lantern Mile
Elena interrogated me as we pushed the cart home along the shoddy cobbled roads of the Wharf District.
I recounted my lunch with Darion, foraging, and our dip in the pond.
I left out the part about us taking off our clothes, swimming, and then lying naked in the sun.
There were details she just didn’t need to know.
Besides, I felt a little ashamed of letting my guard down so much.
What was Darion after? Was he really interested in me?
I’d been so lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t even considered my plans for entering the catacombs that night.
Typically I went over scenarios a hundred times in my mind, considering every threat, every contingency.
Elena, on the other hand, was beside herself. She was a bit of a romantic and loved the idea of me finding a man.
I was so busy deflecting all her questions that I barely noticed the crowd that had formed in the public square ahead of us.
I hadn’t even been scanning the alleyways and rooftops for threats like I always did, which was particularly bad since I had been followed just last night.
Something about the gathering didn’t sit right with me, and we’d just stumbled directly into it.
The crowd was cheering on a man in common merchant’s clothing who stood on a raised platform with his fist in the air.
“And that’s why the bastard in the throne room must be stopped!” the man shouted to scattered cheers. The majority of people shared worried expressions and spoke in hushed tones. I froze. This was treasonous talk and could only lead to trouble.
“Even the rumor of Emberborn blood is enough for King Tarnasau to steal our children!” the man yelled, almost pleading.
My blood went cold at that forbidden word. Emberborn. Many in the crowd called out in shock. Elena looked my way, her demeanor serious. She knew the penalties as well as anyone else in the city.
“They took my little Katie,” the man cried out, his voice filled with desperation. “Do you want them to steal your children?”
Many people shouted “No!” But a few were starting to back away, their faces revealing worry or even outright fear. I started glancing around, planning our escape route in case things got ugly. But this damn cart would make a quick exit difficult.
“We must march to the Gold Palace!” the father yelled over the cheering crowd. “Demand our children back!”
There was movement on the rooftops around the square, where several figures stood watching.
They wore flowing black robes and silver masks covering their faces.
Sentinels: King Tarnasau’s elite enforcers, feared throughout the realm.
Stationed next to them, Royal Guards stood at the ready, wielding crossbows and swords. This would get ugly fast.
“Elena, we need to go,” I hissed, turning the cart around.
“But I want to hear what he has to say,” Elena pleaded.
“Please, just do this for me, okay?” I said.
The seriousness of my tone got her attention, and she started helping with the cart. We pushed it back the way we had come, but the crowd was all around us now, and we continually bumped into people who shot dirty looks and curses our way.
A low thrumming came from the rooftops—from the Sentinels—almost like a chant. It started low and slowly grew in volume and pitch.
“Grab your swords, your hammers!” the father yelled behind us as the thrumming grew louder. “Whatever you c—”
A sharp whizzing sound ripped through the air, followed by a thud. He broke off mid-word. I glanced back to see a crossbow bolt embedded in his chest.
The crowd gasped collectively. Then the entire square went deathly silent. Even the Sentinels’ chanting ceased.
Blood spurted from the man’s wound and from his mouth as he coughed, trying to breathe.
For a moment, it seemed as if the entire world had stopped to focus on his agony.
Then, quite suddenly, the chanting from above resumed, morphing into high-pitched wailing.
The crowd broke into screams and shouts.
“What’s happening?” Elena asked. Luckily, she was in front of the cart, and we were far enough down the road that she was spared from seeing the ghastly sight.
“They murdered that man,” I said, trying hard to hold back my rage. “We have to keep going, quickly!”
Elena’s face was pinched, but there was no panic there. Just a grim acknowledgment of the horror of the moment.
As we hurried away, I looked back to see a woman with skin so pale it was nearly white, dressed entirely in black, jump onto the platform.
She wore a tight-fitting vest gilded with golden thread forming the pattern of lions’ heads on her chest. I would’ve recognized that symbol anywhere: the Leonom family’s house crest. The sight of The Butcher’s emblem sent a simmering rage coursing through my veins.
The woman in black came up behind the dying man, slashed his throat as casually as if she were cutting a loaf of bread, then pushed him off the platform.
It was almost mechanical, inhuman. The crowd recoiled, letting the man land face-first on the cobblestones.
The woman in black never even looked at the crowd.
An older middle-aged man walked up behind her, wearing the lavender robes of a noble over studded leather armor.
No. Not him.
It couldn’t be.
He was more wrinkled and worn than he’d been on that fateful day more than nine years ago—the worst day of my life.
But I would never forget that face. This was undoubtedly Orlik “The Butcher” Leonom, the man responsible for shattering our family.
The man whose house I had broken into just the other night.
The chaos around me faded away as I stared into the soul of that wretched man. I considered throwing my knife. I could hit him. It wasn’t impossible.
“This is the price of treason!” Orlik yelled over the Sentinels’ shrieking. “Go now, or share this man’s fate.”
With that, the entire crowd ran away from the platform. My tunnel vision broke as the first waves of panicked citizens hit us, all trying to avoid the same fate as that poor man. It was all Elena and I could do to keep the cart from toppling over.
When we finally cleared the crowd and the chanting faded, Elena ran to me with tears streaking down her cheeks and buried her face in my chest. She was strong, wise beyond her years, and we had shared a lot of trauma, which meant that sometimes I forgot she was still a child and wasn’t as hardened as I was to the cruelty of the world.
I rubbed her shoulder to calm her, holding back my fury.
Usually Elena and I lived day to day, happy to have what we had, and I thought our life might be good enough.
Maybe we could make do. But seeing that innocent man cut down by the very people who had destroyed our family made me realize that any peace we had was an illusion that could shatter at any moment.
Yes, the Trials were dangerous. Perhaps the most dangerous thing I would ever do.
But doing nothing meant simply waiting for fate to catch up with us rather than setting our own course.
So that evening, I gathered my supplies and headed out, more determined than ever to see the Emberlight Trials through to the end.
There were many entrances to the Underworld, but given the circumstances of the last few days, a more obscure route felt safest. I knew the perfect one, rarely traveled and easily forgotten.
I’d discovered it as a child while at Mrs. Yarrow’s home for wayward children.
Going to the Underworld had been a common dare among the kids, and the obscure entrance was the best way to avoid the prying eyes of those who might object to a gang of wildlings running amok.
As I approached the abandoned city bath in the Wharf District, memories of my childhood flashed through my mind—my first boyfriend and first kiss.
Gideon had been brave and handsome, and I’d been hopelessly obsessed with him.
My heart ached at how that had ended. Not all love was requited, and not all boys were kindhearted.
I tucked that memory away.
Long ago, someone had boarded up the entrance to the baths, but I knew the way past the barrier. A hidden latch held an entire section of boards in place. With a simple flick of my finger, the wall swung open, and I slipped inside without a sound.
Each of my footsteps on the bath’s glazed clay tiles echoed through the vacant hall. Vast pools surrounded by archways stood empty and crumbling. Where throngs of people had once gathered, now there was only dust and disrepair.
Past the main pools, I entered a room with much smaller basins for hotter baths. In one such basin, smashed tiles formed a human-size opening. Just below the lip, a ladder was hidden in the shadows—nearly impossible to see if you didn’t know where to look.
I scampered down it, descending thirty feet into darkness.
Only after my eyes adjusted did shapes emerge in the shadows.
I was in the front room of an abandoned storefront that was nearly ready to collapse from rot and disrepair.
Boarded-up windows lined the far wall on either side of a door, beyond which lay a hidden world.
I cracked open the shop door, revealing an alley-like corridor.
Although I was deep underground, it was like any street you might find in the upper city.
A long row of storefronts with hanging wooden signs lined the alley.
Phosphorescent moss grew on the ceiling high above, casting the space in an eerie blue glow with pinpricks of light resembling a starry sky.
Most of the businesses in this part of the Underworld were dark and shuttered.