20. Eshe
Eshe
I woke up on a small mattress in a limestone chamber. It was cool, moist, and dark—I seemed to be underground. Rising from my unconscious state, I sat up.
Was I dead?
This looked like a tomb buried deep in the dark sands.
Quickly, I recalled the memories from last night and placed a hand on my crusty temple.
I had been hit so hard that it still throbbed beneath my fingers.
I looked around my surroundings, and besides the thin mattress on the cot I slept on, the walls were carved in limestone, but the fourth wall was lined with metal bars.
It was embedded in the ceiling of this hole and into the ground.
I was in a cage. A prisoner.
Stumbling closer to the slick bars, I saw a warrior in the distance.
He wore all white clothing—his pants, tunic, and a white hood around his head, covering his identity.
I could barely see the strong nose he had, since most of his face was hidden.
Two daggers hung from the belt across his hips.
He had a long sword attached to his back.
Atrovian.
My trembling hand flew to my mouth to quiet my gasp. The pounding of my heart was trapped in my throat, and I stilled.
I’d never seen one in real life before.
Only in my nightmares when I was a child.
The stories of Atrovians flooded into my mind, the ones Salazar would warn me about staying close when we explored Crahst.
I trained my eyes to glance beyond the Atrovian, turning my head from left to right. Where was my brother? Had he been taken, too? Had he noticed by now that I wasn’t at the camp? And most of all, why did they want me? Why was I here?
I had to get out. This was no different from the prison I snuck in and out of, right?
Okay, there was a major difference, but I wasn’t going to think about that now. If I stayed here waiting, I would only die of anticipation. Or claustrophobia. I could barely breathe in here. The air was thin, as if there wasn’t enough of it for both the Atrovian and me here.
I ran through my options and went back to my cot.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
And another one. And another, even deeper. Suddenly, the space that flowed from my throat to my lungs tightened, and the pressure burned. I sought more air, but the more air I searched for, the less came.
The sounds that came from me were the sounds of a gurgling, dying animal. Panicking on the bed, then over the ground.
I heard the bars squeak open to my chamber.
My spine cracked and bent backward. Soft footsteps scuffed nearby, and my arms twitched and spasmed. I felt cold hands push against my shoulders, settling me.
My eyes flew open.
Without a moment’s hesitation, I reached for the dagger on his hip, and before he could react, I rammed my foot beneath his ribs, aiming for the depths of his diaphragm.
The Atrovian stumbled back, mouth gaping for air while grappling for his other dagger.
I scrambled to my feet just before he reached over, grabbing a fistful of my hair and yanking my head back.
Losing my footing, I slammed back into the cold, hard ground once more.
My scalp burned and screamed against his hold, but I jerked on his neck and slid the dagger under his jaw.
Without wasting a moment, I swung my legs up high around his neck, and I smashed my head into his—like a crunch—causing some of my hairs to rip from my skull.
I screamed in my head.
I heard a crack while his grip loosened on my scalp, and he might have howled if it wasn’t for the knife that I shoved into his hard stomach. He froze and stared into my eyes. There was no fear in them—it was like they were trained to face death.
My hands might have shaken a bit. Did I kill him?
His head dropped to where his stomach bled a fresh stream, trickling down his body.
The crimson color bloomed on the white tunic.
The Atrovian’s hand slowly let go of my head and stumbled down to the floor.
I felt my eyes go wide as a result of what I had just done, and something in my chest tightened, the pressure building—
No, not now.
I clutched the dagger back, lathered and dripping in thick, warm blood, and stole the rest of his weapons.
Just in case, I wrapped his head in the cloth ripped from the mattress and stuffed his mouth just as they did me. I grabbed his robe—untouched by the blood on his tunic, hood, and keys—and quietly locked the cage behind me.
His eyelids were still blinking. He was still alive. For now.
I didn’t have time to think about what I just did.
Run.
The thudding of my heart rang in my ears as I sprinted through the dark limestone tunnel, placing my new wardrobe over my body. More like hanging from my body, but semantics.
The hallways were dimly lit with small torches every twenty feet or so. My eyes barely adjusted each moment I went from darkness into light. It was giving me a headache. What was this place?
It was so cold that it was as if I were hundreds of feet below the ground. The faint glow of the torches reflected off the tunnel, showing glistening water trickling down the walls. I could almost smell the fresh water seeping into the limestone, telling me it must be close.
My ears perked up. There was sound, and a lot of it, coming from ahead of me.
I quickened my pace and then eventually slowed down.
Ahead of me was a large cave or hole in the ground, showing off multiple floors of this cave, circling the center floor below.
Stairs from opposite sides stood so that people could go from level to level.
Light came from the many torches of fire spread throughout the different levels and around the staircases.
I quickly counted four levels, but there may be more.
I couldn’t see from where I crouched. Men dressed in white hoods walked in all directions, speaking to each other, some in hushed tones, some using more passion in their vocal sounds.
I knew the Atrove had a secret society, but I had no idea of the extent of it until I silently crept through their underground world. The tunnel kept going, hugging to the right and back deeper into the ground, and showed no life at the end of it.
The only sounds I heard were my heavy breathing and my footsteps.
Before I continued into the tunnel, I glanced once more at the center of these floors.
An arena. Many were already training. I couldn’t help the tingle running through my body.
What was it like, training to be an Atrovian?
To be a part of this society, this militia?
From the brief moment I stared, their training was unlike anything I’d ever seen.
It was… mesmerizing. The way they barely grunted, they were quiet, quick, and ruthless.
They swung their arms, legs, and shoulders into each other, effortlessly dodging each other’s attacks.
Flashes of metal from both hands gleamed in the light.
They trained with real weapons.
No mistakes could be made.
I could see the blood trickling from all the opponents, along with their sweat dripping over their tan chests.
I swallowed, doubting for a moment if I’d be able to take more than one on. I was a warrior, but I wasn’t an idiot. I knew when I could win a fight.
Choose your battles wisely, words by Garamgai.
On my right, I rushed back into the tunnel to see where it could lead. Running past several tempting doors, I heard some more voices ahead of me. I crept forward, keeping my footsteps to a minimum, hiding in the shadows until I came to a candlelit chamber that was open.
“What do you mean ‘he slipped from my hands’?!” This man’s voice shook the walls I hid behind.
“Look, Lazerak, calm down. It isn’t as easy as it sounds. He has an entire army surrounding him day and night. He’s a Qahl!”
A noise of something slamming down on a table rang in the chambers.
“What about the girl?”
They didn’t have my brother. A wave of relief fluttered through my body. I smiled, knowing that my brother had not been taken. He was safe. For now.
“She became light as sands with one strike.” Heat rose to my cheeks thinking about how easily I lost consciousness. I was going to have to work on that, somehow.
So he was the one who hit me and carried me out of my tent. The anticipation to creep further just to see the face I want to pummel sparked my veins.
“We needed him. This won’t show him any kind of message,” the man—Lazerak—grunted. He seemed to be the leader of this Atrove. He spoke with an authoritative presence that demanded to be heard.
“I think taking his sister sends a pretty loud message.”
“Not loud enough.”
There was shouting from behind me, perhaps from another tunnel or from the main center of the cave. More commotion echoed from the chamber I heard the two voices in.
“She escaped!” A voice bellowed through the tunnels.
“What do you mean she escaped?” The man I heard previously barged out of the chamber on the other side, and his shouting faded into the thick air.
“You incompetent bastards!” Another voice shouted.
I peered into the chamber, and there were a few low, burnt-orange couches in the far corner. It was dark, with only a few long candles flickering atop a wooden table.
How was I going to get out of here with no light and no sense of direction? My nose turned cold, like it did during the winter in Mongah. I smelled the smoke that came from the candles, but other than that, there was no warmth to this place.
If I had to pick a color to resemble this place, it would be gray.
No emotion, no color, just cold gray.
A shiver ran down my spine, knowing I was in the darkest pits of earthly hell.
I quickened my steps through the chamber and ran down the tunnel that veered to the right, the exact opposite of where the men had just run down.
I must have been walking for a while and lost my sense of direction because this place was massive.
The tunnel went on and on and on. I was beginning to wonder if I was going in circles.
I hadn’t heard any voices nearby, so that was a good sign I must be going in the right direction, right?
I continued to creep forward.
Hearing the sound of dripping water was like finally breathing fresh air. I wasn’t going deeper into hell—there was water.
There wouldn’t be water in hell, right?
The end of the tunnel finally illuminated in white and blue waves reflecting against the wet limestone walls. It felt ethereal, the glow on the wall, and I caught my breath.
The opening appeared, and a dark blue pool lay before me with large gray rocks surrounding the depths of the water.
On the limestone ceiling, I could barely make out several drips of water coming through the ceiling and creating the dripping vibration sounds in the cave.
There was another tunnel across from the one I had come through.
I silently tiptoed my way there, although I would have liked to dip my toe into the blue water just to test the temperature.
It looked divine and magical. Down the tunnel and around, I came to a halt in front of a large wooden door.
I tilted my head.
It was tempting to open the door and see what was on the other side. I hadn’t seen another door as intimidating in this barbarous place. Most of the chambers were open or had thin coverings overhead.
It was wiser to keep walking. I felt the heat of the surface, the sun beckoning me as if I were getting closer. I wondered if anyone had ever escaped from this place.
But why did this dwelling feel so exclusive and hidden from the rest? I couldn’t help but feel there was something on the other side of this door that had to be known.
With clammy hands, I wrapped them around the metal doorknob and silently pulled it toward me. It barely creaked. I peered through the threshold, and my heart tripped. It was a chamber.
It was that leader’s chamber, the one that was angry my brother had not been captured. I knew it was. He was important. Maybe the most important man of the Atrove.
I swallowed dryly and walked into the chamber, gently closing the door behind me.
I shouldn’t… But there was something that called me, that wanted, and begged to be found here. It felt similar to when the winds in the desert told me something would happen before it happened. I obliged.
Maybe I would find something about my family or information on Zyriah. Or something that would lead me to the ones responsible for the explosion.
The bed was simple but large, placed on the left side of the dark chamber.
The chamber had a small opening toward the pool with a thin linen drapery covering the inside, and it created a soft blue glow in the room.
Other than that, there were no candles lit.
The sheets were neatly placed, as if they had hardly been slept in.
On the other side of the dark blue room was a wooden chest spilling out white cloths.
Browsing through, I lifted and observed the white robe.
My fingers tingled, knowing that what I held was truly the Atrovian wardrobe.
They were all the same exact cut and color.
I was in the lair of the devil and lurked inside his own chambers.
I placed the linen cloths back into the chest and peered over at the wooden desk nearby. Something caught my eye—I frowned. Walking over, I picked up the small vase of jasmine flowers.
The world suddenly stopped spinning.
My eyes skimmed over the white flowers.
I couldn’t believe it.
No.
It couldn’t be.
My heart began beating again, and it beat violently. Pounding against my ribcage and vibrating against my throat.
My mind raced and raced.
He was always on business trips. He fought harder than any other warrior I knew. He fought too well, as if he had been secretly trained by elites.
But he had a harem. He had a lover, didn’t he?
My fingers brushed over the soft edges of the flowers, the jasmine scent filling my nose.
A lover who was religious. Who was never pregnant.
No, it couldn’t be a diversion or an alibi, so he was never caught.
Or could it be?
I suddenly felt very much out of my body. Could he be the one who murdered my family? The one behind everything?
I had a feeling that he had killed them or the Atrove had. Little had I known that the two were one and the same. This couldn’t be a coincidence.
I placed the vase down with shaking fingers. I had to get out of here. If Ezra were truly part of the Atrove, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill me if I knew the truth. It’d be the moment he’d been waiting for since we were children.
Spinning on my heel, I turned to leave, but froze when a figure loomed behind me.
My heart leaped into my throat.
“Ezra,” I breathed.
But Ezra didn’t speak. He wasn’t Ezra, not the same Ezra I had come to understand. His face was cleanly shaven, and I could see his sharp, angular face.
No.
He was someone entirely different. A whole other level of ruthless and dangerous. The air within my lungs was pulled out, and I couldn’t breathe. A sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach told me to run.
And so I did.