Chapter 17
Chapter
Seventeen
A week passed, in which we got the ash and dirt cleaned out of the cave, and replaced most of its necessities.
When questioned, Zariah admitted to stealing things from the Seat where he could, though most people knew the areas he could stick his long neck into where the dome didn’t quite cover, and protected their valuables.
“They put all their things, though, in great piles, and most stuff looks broken or full of holes,” Zariah admitted, rubbing a hand down his face. “Sometimes there is no more room, so I simply set it all on fire and burn it down, but they just bring more! Isn’t that curious?”
I thought for a moment, Shava shooting me a look as we came to the same conclusion together.
“Zariah: the great trash dragon,” I intoned, trying hard to keep from laughing. Shava snorted, struggling equally for control. D had no such problem and laughed long and hard.
Zariah scratched his head. “Trash dragon? You mean they leave these things for me on purpose? ”
Shava erupted into a fit of giggles. I cleared my throat.
“It’s not stealing, then,” I offered.
Zariah sighed and shifted back into his dragon form, and Shava and I grabbed the goat carcass he’d just brought. Shava knew quite a bit about skinning a once-living creature, and in a way none of my anatomy and medical texts had prepared me for.
Zariah flew off, leaving us to it.
It was bloody business, but I didn’t shy away from it. The skill was useful, and I was accustomed to spilling my blood for rituals—so gutting an animal was hardly any trouble. Shava had a steady hand, and D was eager to learn as well, so between the three of us we made quick work of the animal.
“Did you want to go exploring today?” Shava asked just as we finished spearing a few chunks of meat over the fire, which Zariah had helpfully lit again for us.
The goat’s skin lay out in the sun to dry, and D was happily sorting through the larger bones and cleaning them.
We’d use them later for anything we needed.
The rest of the guts and unneeded bits got tossed over the side of the cliff.
The meat sizzled as it cooked, and juices dripped down onto the rocks, leaving hissing columns of steam to rise into the air. The smell made my stomach rumble.
“Explore? Do you mean the hot springs?” I asked, confused. We were stuck up on a high cliff; what was there to explore besides the sharp drop?
Shava shook her head. “No, the other caves. Zariah said this mountain is full of them.”
My brow furrowed in thought. “This kingdom used to be rich from mining. It would make sense if there were tunnels that connected old mines to the kingdom, wouldn’t it?”
Shava blinked. “Like tunnels? I know of a few tunnels. ”
Now it was my turn to blink. “You do?” The possibilities exploded in my brain, my mind whirling with all the implications.
“Stupid me. I forgot all about them, but there was an old tunnel in the mud quarter. If there are more that lead out of the kingdom, that’s our ticket to smuggle people out!” Shava said, standing up with excitement.
I nodded slowly. I’d had no idea of how I’d actually ‘help’ her when I agreed to it, but this was a definite possibility.
“There are more details to figure out, but finding if tunnels exist would be a good start,” I admitted slowly.
Not to mention, I could find an even more secluded, secure place to do my rituals.
D reached out and plucked a stick with meat out of the fire, testing its heat with the pad of a finger. Blowing on it once, he wolfed it down and reached for another.
I took a stick for myself and held one out to Shava. We crossed sticks and traded grins.
“Cheers.”
It was unseasoned, and a little charred on the outside, but it would do. D and Shava ate with apparent relish, and again I was forced to admit the privileged life I had led, despite its hardships.
It made me angry on Shava’s and D’s behalf. They shouldn’t have to fight for the right for food and safety, only once reaped and at the palace. The disparity of resources made no sense. Once I was more powerful, I’d use my powers and my alliance with Zariah to make real changes.
My fingers itched to plan my next ritual.
One thing at a time .
“Where are these other caves?” I said instead.
Shava pointed behind me, to the left of our cave. I followed the direction of her finger, heart sinking as I saw the dark slice cut into the rock, level with us. Only a thin ledge of stone lay connecting where we were to the thin opening.
“You aren’t serious,” I deadpanned.
Shava grabbed another stick of meat and downed it, chewing loudly.
“What?” she asked, her mouth still full. She swallowed, wiping her greasy hands on her tunic. “That? I’ve scaled thinner ledges than that in the mud district.”
“But you never explored the tunnel in the mud quarter?” I challenged, one eyebrow raised.
Shava rolled her eyes. “You try to poke around forbidden tunnels with Fireguards up your ass every hour of the day and night.”
D cowered a bit, as if caught unawares by a bad memory.
I hated the constant reminders of how disparate our childhoods were. I didn’t like the feelings it brought up in me; feelings that only complicated my goals and ambitions.
Because you know it isn’t right.
She shucked off her ineffective silk slippers from the palace, which were already torn and had a hole in her left sole. I glanced down at my own shoes, but I didn’t see how my sandals would help her, being much larger than her feet.
An uneasy tingle went down my spine as she eased her way onto the ledge and crept sideways, progressing inch by inch. Her bare feet gripped hard onto the ledge, doing just as much work as the fingers that clutched onto the rocks.
At least I didn’t have to feel bad about keeping my own shoes on.
A small hand balled into the fabric of my tunic, and I whipped around.
“Do you think she’s gonna make it?” whispered a small voice .
Frowning down at D, I jerked away, but he held on. I ignored him and kept nervous eyes on Shava, who was now more than halfway across. If she jumped, she might even make it one leap. The sure thing would be to keep inching forward, however.
“Shava is capable,” I muttered before I realized it. Perhaps I needed the reassurance, because I certainly wasn’t comforting the boy—what a ridiculous notion.
D cried out as Shava’s foot slipped, her weight shifting as her body fell. With a grunt and a scrape, her fingers clutched onto the ledge her feet had just been, and impossibly, she hung on.
I stopped breathing, every scenario whirling through my head, hundreds of possibilities and outcomes in the blink of an eye.
I saw my mother’s body in bed, motionless and dead.
I saw the lumps under sheets when I’d first passed through the bathing chamber with the other reaped boys all those years ago. Hindsight taught me they’d been bodies: dead mud girls who’d been tossed into the tubs and drowned.
It couldn’t happen again. Shava wasn’t just any mud girl, and I wouldn’t let her die. I wouldn’t lose one of the few girls I’d ever found tolerable and worth being around. I couldn’t lose another woman I cared about.
Damnit. Fuck. Shit.
I cared about her .
And just like when I risked myself to jump onto the dome to save her, I barely gave it a second thought as I inched out onto the ledge, D shouting at my back.
But what could I do? She was halfway out on the ledge, clinging on for life.
I’d never reach her in time, and even if I did, how would I be able to help her?
We needed a dragon. But how to call him ?
Without warning, I turned on D and struck him across his face. His eyes went wide with fear and he crumpled to his knees, but silently.
That wouldn’t do.
I grabbed him and walked to the edge of the cliff, hands balled in his tunic, and held him out over the ledge.
He writhed and kicked. His face was white, and his mouth was frozen open with the rictus of terror.
And yet he didn’t scream.
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” Shava screeched at me, predictably in an uproar over someone else, although she was one hangnail away from death herself.
I wasn’t proud of myself, but I didn’t see another way.
I dropped D, and he scuttled away, making a high-pitched whining sound.
“Get away from him! I’m going to rip out your spleen if you go near him!”
Her shouts echoed off the rocks, loud and erratic.
A good start, but I needed more.
“Climb back up and make me,” I taunted her. “Or can’t you see with all that mud in your eyes?”
It wasn’t the most clever insult, but effective.
Shava bellowed with rage, trying to lift herself, then swing her legs back over the ledge. All her efforts were in vain, as she only exhausted herself.
“Come here, D. I’ll throw you over to give her corpse some company.”
D yelped, but it was a quiet gasp as I took a fake step towards him. Shava, however, exploded. Her high-pitched scream rattled my eardrums as the cliff magnified it.
Perfect.
I turned towards the east, sweating and holding my breath. I blocked out Shava’s tired grunts and D’s whimpers of fear.
“Come on. Come on. ”
My eyes strained as I squinted, desperately willing the familiar black silhouette to appear.
And impossibly, it did.
Emotion swelled in my heart as Zariah’s dragon form grew larger and larger. I waved my hands over my head, jumping up and down and not caring if I looked like an absolute fool.
“OVER HERE! ZARIAH!”
The dragon banked hard from his path, taking in the scene with his keen eyesight and adjusting his trajectory.
“Fuck, fuck!”
Shava’s arm muscles shook and spasmed with effort, her fingers sliding off from the edge as she couldn’t hold on any longer.
Zariah was close.
D cried out in warning.
Shava fell.
Zariah dove. That’s when I noticed he already carried something in his claws.
Or someone.
How would he catch Shava?
D curled into himself and covered his head, unable to look. I wanted to do the same, but forced myself to watch.