Chapter 8 Kali #2
“Gods, please, no.” Those workouts were pure torture.
And Zion enjoyed them a little too much.
Especially when I’d become too exhausted to rise from the gravel littering the training rings.
He’d collapse on top of me and lick the sweat off my collarbones, making me curl up from the ticklish sensations and then wail from the burn blooming in my core.
The lunatic clearly knew what he was doing.
“Let me go”—I swatted his arms off me—“or I’ll kick your ass.” The warning might have been empty, but I couldn’t stop myself from issuing it.
His lopsided smile widened. “It’s a deal, then.”
I slapped my forehead. “That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s okay.” Zion tapped his hip. “You can have my butt any time you want.”
Peering into the circular void, his handgun readied, Eli grumbled, “If you’re done talking about backsides, we have a job to do.”
Ezra’s contact was supposed to be waiting for us at the bottom of the shaft. Supposed being the key word.
“The moon is high,” Ava recited the first part of the code sentence.
“But the day is near,” someone answered. White light burst out, shooing the shadows away, and a round face came into view at the bottom of the pit. “Welcome. Arlo sent me.”
Arlo. An image of a lanky guard, who was Ava’s friend, resurfaced.
He’d led us through the inside of Ilasall’s wall last autumn, so we could deliver soldier’s remains—a pair of hands and feet, a head, and a dick with a green and black wristbands on it—to the Heads of Military, Ilasall, and Welfare after they’d send him to take out Zion, Gedeon, and I.
Zion looked down. “Don’t scare Kali like that again, or I will sew up your mouth. She could’ve fallen in.”
The ease he’d said it with sent tingles all the way to my toes.
“Arlo also warned me of your threats.” The flashlight flickered. “Piece of shit.” The man banged it against the shaft. “I’m Rowan, by the way.”
“Well, Rowan.” Ava tapped her boot on the edge of the hole. “Arlo seems to have missed one important detail: Zion also follows up on his promises.”
“Yeah, yeah. We’ve all heard of what goes down in your basement,” our contact groused as the stream of illumination vanished and then reappeared again. “Now, are you planning to climb down or not? I don’t have all day.”
“He’s right.” Done pulling out a few flashlights, Eli fastened his backpack. “Let’s move.”
Ava passed one of the electric torches to me. Dressed in a standard Ilasall’s soldier uniform, she clipped her own portable light to the waistband of her black, fitted cargo pants. “What’s up your ass today?”
Eli threw the pristine brown leather bag over his shoulders. “I want to get back as soon as we can.”
“I can agree to that.” Rowan’s distorted remark floated out of the pit.
“Just so you know, we’re not done,” Ava told Eli. “I will figure out why you can’t seem to stop sulking today.” She zipped up her teal puffy jacket—perfect for blending in—and plunged her lower body into the shaft. “Be careful, the ladder’s slippery.”
Zion jerked his chin at Eli. “You’re next.”
“See you down there.” He re-secured his ponytail, prompting me to do the same with my high bun, and gracefully began his descent into the tunnel.
Following him, I positioned my flashlight between my teeth and gripped the first bar of the ladder.
And immediately regretted not wearing gloves.
The slimy layer coating the rusted metal erased any hope of friction. Freaking mold, of all things, was about to end me. If I slipped and free fell the forty feet to the bottom, my skull would probably explode on the impact.
A dull thud signaled the first of us had finished the descent.
“Name’s Ava. How did you discover this tunnel?”
“These used to be catacombs—something like an underground burial place. For some reason, our ancestors wanted to preserve their skeletons. But Ilasall has turned the maze into functional passages.” Rowan’s calm explanation beckoned me like a beacon—down, down, down, all the way down.
“They’re rarely utilized, except for the Matchings, transport of prisoners, covert movements of the military and such.
If you know where to turn, you can walk under the whole city undetected.
We have a map, but it’s a work in progress. It takes a while to find new paths.”
Unbeknownst to Ilasall’s citizens, a city of the dead resided right under their feet.
“What about the tunnels going outside Ilasall?” Ava asked.
“Dozens of them lead beyond the gates, but all we’ve located so far are blocked. This is the first open one we’ve discovered,” Rowan said as the pool of white light below me flickered. His flashlight must have malfunctioned again.
“I have some batteries to spare,” Eli offered, and a thump signaled he’d safely reached the bottom. “Here.”
The light below me disappeared, leaving the flashlight in my mouth the sole illumination, drawing my attention to the spiders and…other creatures crawling along the walls, some of them damn too close to my hands.
A ball of bright light exploded below me, and I squeezed my eyes shut to will away the spots dancing in my vision.
“Much better,” Rowan noted.
As I neared the bottom, the trio huddled away from the ladder to make space for me and Zion.
The instant my feet touched the ground, relief coursed through me.
Ripping the flashlight from the trap of my teeth, I slurped down the drool pooling below my tongue and wiped the handle on my black cargo pants, part of my soldier’s uniform.
When your goal was to awaken all rebels in Ilasall from their slumber, inspire them to follow you into war, a potential doom, you had to look the part.
Dressed for battle.
Ruthless.
Cold.
Carrying not a shred of mercy or doubt.
“I’m Kali.” I outstretched a hand to the red-cheeked man clad in a pale-blue button-up shirt. Its shade, the cut, the lapels, they all nagged the recesses of my memory.
He must’ve worked at the Spire—the tallest glass building twirling around itself, like a spear about to pierce the clouds. All black-banded office workers were issued such uniform shirts to wear on the premises.
Only the folks with green wristbands could pick and choose their outfits. The state of their reproductive organs raised their worth beyond invaluable.
Rowan shook my hand. “I was told you and Zion took over the compound business in Gedeon’s…absence.” As if in afterthought, he added, “Sorry for your loss.” Before I could thank him, he waved for us to follow him. “Come on. It’s a long walk to the cavern.”
We delved into the arched depths of roughly hewn walls. A musty and stale odor dried out my nostrils, the rotten reek invading my lungs and twisting my gut.
Darkness clouded tunnel after tunnel, our flashlights serving as weapons against the shadows. Uncountable night creatures with far too many legs skittered if caught in the illumination’s snare.
But eventually, the gloomy passage widened into a vast, half-moon-shaped space.
Archways of pure blackness adorned the curved wall—nine passages standing in wait of a soul.
The murkiness churning beyond their thresholds…
If you displayed a second’s hesitation at a turn, they’d devour you to the marrow of your bones.
“Stay close to me. It’s too easy to get lost.” Rowan aimed for the fourth entrance from the right. “I collected you four, and I intend to deliver all. Don’t make me disappoint her.”
We fell in line after him, and I hissed to Zion, “Her? Will you finally tell me who we’re meeting?”
Catching my wrist, he positioned my flashlight under his chin. “It’s a surprise.”
I shuddered at the shadows swirling in the hollows and dips of his features. “Idiot.”
“A pretty idiot, you wanted to say.” With a grin, he threw an arm over my shoulders, and we rushed to catch up with Eli and Ava traipsing behind our guide.
We took turn after turn, left, left, right, left again, until I lost any sense of direction and gave up on tracking our path. There was not the slightest chance I’d find a way back by myself.
“Gedeon would’ve liked this,” Zion whispered, surveying the neat piles of human bones filling the niches on both sides of the tunnel, as if the hollows had been made specifically for such a purpose—to display the end of life.
Skulls lacking their lower jaws sat on the ledges above the stacks of the disintegrated skeletons, their eye sockets as dark as the shells of bugs crawling out of them.
Zion brushed the forehead of a skull, leaving a light-colored streak, and rubbed the fine powder between his fingers. “Plenty of canvases up for grabs.”
My throat thickened. “Has Gedeon ever actually carved out a skull?”
“Skulls, femurs, pelvic bones. Anything with a large enough surface to etch the letters into it.”
It didn’t surprise me. After Zion had captured the guard who’d let me pass Ilasall gates for a favor and dragged him down to his basement, Gedeon had carved his name into the man’s chest.
“A fascination…” I mused out loud.
“He said it was about leaving a permanent mark.” Zion mindlessly stroked his left forearm, the burn scars hidden underneath the sleeves of a soldier’s shirt. “That they died having been branded by him—the owner of their deaths.”
“That’s—”
“Hot, right?”
It wrenched a snort out of me, and I couldn’t help but shake my head.
“Hey!” Spinning around, Ava fell back behind Eli.
“Don’t leave me out of things. This place is spooky enough; give me something besides a bug to think about.
” She jabbed a thumb at Eli. “This one is already a nuisance on my side, all sullen and moping.” Nudging him with an elbow, she teased, “You just can’t wait to get back home to read some more of Eislyn’s books, can you? ”
Eli grumbled under his breath. “I need a break from you.”
Ava rested a hand on her chest. “That’s such a nice compliment. I’ll go to bed thinking about it tonight.”
I loved her. Truly. Nothing could derail her once she set her sights on something.
A short trek later, we neared the end of one of the endless passages. Warm light bathed the walls in a dim glow, deterring the army of shadows, and Rowan announced, “We’re here.”
Silhouettes glided across the opening, their expressions varying degrees of amusement and expectation.
Zion spread his arms wide. “Meet the renegades.”
I gaped at the mass of people milling about.
The young lounged in circles near the cavern’s walls, their voices booming.
Adults stood around the rough-cut wooden tables with old, weathered books supporting the too-short legs.
Their chatter followed their movements as they sorted heaps of papers and hand-drawn blueprints and schematics.
The rest either quietly chatted in small groups or floated from one person to another, clapping their shoulders and embracing them with wide smiles.
“Zola.”
I whirled around, catching Rowan nodding a greeting to an elderly woman. Wrinkles framed her eyes as bright as the last time I’d seen her. She was the one who’d arranged the delivery of the soldier’s body parts to the intended recipients.
And her name was Zola.
“Rowan.” She smiled. “Could you please check the tunnels and bring any roamers back here?”
Dipping his chin in acknowledgment, he melted back into the shadows swirling in the closest exit.
Adjusting her silver, waist-long braid, Zola erased the distance between us, standing tall despite barely reaching my chin. “So, my dearest, are you ready to lead your army?”