3. THE TUNNELS
Roirdan and Remic were less than okay with tight spaces. The poor males were practically crawling through the first tunnel. Roirdan’s grunts of aggravation filled what little space was between us, while Remic suffered in silence.
The air smelled of stale earth, and there were no lights, except for the flickering fire Maeson held in her palm to guide us with. I had offered to use my light, but everyone quickly shot that down and reminded me of all the reasons why it was best I reserved my power.
“This is only temporary, until we intersect the main tunnels,” Morah assured us.
The cramped corridor descended a bit further, then wound back and forth, sometimes at such sharp angles that we bumped into each other when Maeson’s firelight disappeared around the corner, casting the rest of us into temporary darkness.
All of our swords kept catching on the walls as we continued our slow, hunched pace.
“Damn it,” Roirdan hissed as his blade caught on the same spot twice.
Behind him, Remic exhaled harshly through his nose.
“You two are the biggest whiners I’ve ever met,” Morah said.
“I didn’t even say anything,” Remic pointed out in a less than pleasant tone.
“Why can’t we just port to the dome or whatever the fuck it’s called?” Roirdan asked, swatting his sword back again.
“Because none of us have ever been there, you idiot!” Morah snapped.
“Fuck you!” Roirdan spat.
I tried not to laugh. “Play nice, you two.”
“Fuck you, kindly,” Roirdan amended with a growl.
“No, thank you,” Morah muttered over her shoulder.
I rolled my eyes, and Maeson flat-out laughed.
The connecting tunnel enabled us to stand somewhat upright, but its width still only allowed for one of us to move at a time—which was good if you were being chased, otherwise, it was a nuisance.
“Red leads north,” I said, noting the entrance that branched off to the left.
Maeson led the way, lighting the path as much as she could, followed by Morah, then me. Roirdan and Remic took up the rear.
Roirdan leaned around me to speak to Morah. “The least your friend could have done was offer us torches or orbs. What would we have done if Maeson didn’t have the power to harness fire?”
“You should be thankful,” Morah said sharply. “Zofia is putting her entire family and the revolution at stake by aiding us. Besides, not everyone in this territory is well-off enough to acquire small luxuries like orbs.”
The commander remained quiet after that.
We continued in silence, going off of Aremis’s sketch and following the marked halls for what felt like more than half a mile.
Despite the chilled air of the underground, a thick layer of sweat had coated my body, and my back was now barking in protest—begging me to stand up straight. Just when I seriously considered asking how much further we had to go, a wooden door brought us to an abrupt halt.
“Is this it?” I whispered, afraid that someone on the other side might hear.
Morah leaned around Maeson. “I think so.”
Aremis had marked an intersection in the tunnels with a smudge of ink, but there was no way to tell for certain if this was the correct access point to the catacombs. And we definitely weren’t sure what we would face once we opened the door.
Would there be guards? Would there be poison or traps? Was it warded?
“It’s best if I enter first,” Remic said quietly. “I do not sense anyone else nearby, but the air could be poisoned. Take a few steps back,” he ordered us. When we did, he ported to the front of the line, as there was no way he was going to bypass us physically with such a narrow space to move in.
“Please don’t say ‘on my mark’ again,” Roirdan whispered through the silence.
Remic turned back and glared at him before opening the door and peering out into the dimly-lit room. A few seconds passed before he said, “All clear.”
“Any smoke in the air?” Morah asked.
“No. No wards either.”
“Good. Let’s move.”
Remic led the way through the small storage room, which was faintly illuminated by the light filtering in from the connecting tunnel.
It seemed like the space had been long forgotten about.
Several tools and chiseled stones lay piled in the corner near discarded torches and other wooden planks, and a dozen or so cobweb-covered crates had been thrown into a heap and now sat collecting dust.
Remic spoke low. “Which way is it from here?”
“We should be under the Old Market,” Morah said. “Fallon should be due north of here. This is where we need to decide if Niall is closer in or further out, and split.”
Roirdan rubbed at his neck. “High-profile prisoners are either kept further away so that they’re less of a risk to others, or they’re kept closer so they can be constantly monitored or afflicted.”
“Not helping, Roirdan,” Maeson hissed under her breath.
“Well, you didn’t bring me along for sweet sentiments.”
“He’s right,” I said. “Sugar-coating it won’t make it any easier when we find him. We need to be prepared for what we might find. That goes for both him and Fallon.” I exchanged a look with Morah.
“But it’s only been four days for Niall,” Maeson reasoned.
“A lot can happen to a prisoner in four days,” Remic said grimly.
A chill went down my spine, and I straightened. “We need to go. We’re wasting time.”
“Can you feel anything in the mating bond, Auren?” Morah asked.
I bit my bottom lip and closed my eyes. My essence whirled slowly in my mind like it was pacing, anxiously awaiting its other half.
I reached out with it, calling to Niall like I would have if he were here.
There was no audible answer, but I felt as if something was tugging on that invisible thread.
A tiny twitch—enough to let me know someone was on the other end, but only just. It was as if it were nudging me to go—
“Left,” I whispered.
“Left? You’re sure?” Morah asked. “How do you know?”
“A feeling,” I said, opening my eyes.
“If he’s west of here, that would put him under the healer’s quadrant which is just outside the palace grounds. And that means he should be in close enough proximity for the wards around Fallon to go down whenever you command them.”
“Let’s hope,” I said.
“When you get to Niall, have him reach out to me with his mind, and I’ll direct you to where I am.” She seemed so sure that this would work that I had no other option than to believe her.
I nodded in agreement. “Roirdan, go with Morah.”
Roirdan balked and began to protest. “Auren, are you sure—”
“Fallon has been under poison for years now and there’s no telling what condition he’ll be in. I doubt he’ll be able to move, and Morah is going to need someone to help get him out in case we can’t make it back to you.”
The commander looked less than pleased, but he didn’t argue.
Maeson ducked back into the storage room and returned with a torch, enchanting it with her flame. She handed it to Morah with a small smile.
“Thank you,” Morah said, offering a smile back.
Roirdan looked at me. “What happens if you can’t find him?” Worry laced his voice.
The same worry had been creeping along the back of my mind ever since we’d entered the tunnels. None of us knew where, exactly, Niall was. But judging by the small nudge against the mating bond, I knew we were headed in the right direction.
“If you don’t hear from Niall within a reasonable amount of time, get yourselves out and back to Zofia’s safe house. If we can’t locate him, we’ll do the same,” I said.
Remic agreed. “Better to regroup there than to have to try and bypass Benmoor’s wards all over again and risk getting caught.”
Morah nodded. “Now that we’ve been this far, we can port back to this spot and begin again . . . if need be.”
I didn’t want to waste precious moments having to backtrack and try again. I prayed I could find Niall by whatever intuition we shared through the mating bond, and that everything went as planned.
“Be careful,” Roirdan said, gripping my shoulder tightly.
I gave him a brief smile. “You too.” His presence felt a lot like my brother’s, and that soothed me. I didn’t want to separate from him, but if Fallon was in the condition I imagined him to be in, Morah would need help.
“Let’s go. The longer we linger, the more we risk getting caught,” Remic said.
I wasn’t sure if the fates answered prayers, or if their sole focus was to weave beginnings and endings and the in-between.
But it seemed fitting to ask for their guidance, since it was they who had a hand in bringing Niall and I together.
So, as our separate groups parted ways into the catacomb tunnels, I sent a silent prayer to Delyth, Kaina, and Sephta to guide me swiftly to my mate.