Chapter 2
Curly-Q
Corridor after corridor, we moved deeper into the cave system.
Unlike the naturally formed cave walls I was used to, these were chiseled to smooth perfection.
There were no sharp edges at the turns, no low-hanging parts of the ceiling you had to duck under.
Two people could walk side by side comfortably.
The rocky ground soon gave way to fresh green grass that appeared to grow naturally from the rock underneath.
Against the faint glow of the crystals embedded in the walls, I could make out drawings. At the brisk pace I had to move, I managed to distinguish trees as tall as me, enormous flowers in any color imaginable, and slender figures in motion amid the natural scenery.
The farther into this underground world we went, the more elves we encountered.
I didn’t look anyone in the face, instead catching glimpses of long, flowing hair and colorful clothing.
Though simple in their straight design, the long dresses everyone wore were of lush fabrics that made the clothing of the elves I’d seen so far look like rags in comparison.
This had to be the Beverly Hills of the cave system.
It certainly wasn’t a place meant for humans–the passersby’s gasps of shock and disgust said as much.
The facial expressions I saw the two times I risked making eye contact?
Let’s just say I would have been worried about my safety had my elf guide not been completely calm about the situation.
No one said a word to him, or tried to stop him from bringing me along any further. Whoever he was, no one dared question his actions. The elves simply bowed their heads and gave me as wide a berth as the cave walls allowed.
Eventually, we reached a wider corridor that was much better illuminated.
Two elves in knee-length black dresses stood guard.
Their hair was pulled back into a single braid like the elves’ in the gardens, their faces as unreadable as the wall at their sides.
Forearm-length blades were tucked in their belts.
My elf addressed them, his lyrical voice echoing in the underground space. Whatever he said sounded like instructions, followed by a respectful nod by the guards. They barely spared me a glance as they stepped aside to let us continue further down the new corridor.
We stopped at its very end, in front of a door. Or what qualified as a door down here–think a thick curtain of interwoven vines covering a round opening in the cave wall.
“Wait here.” With that, my guide disappeared behind the curtain, leaving me on my own.
It was strange, being by myself for the first time since the zombie apocalypse had hit.
I used to live alone in a tiny but cozy apartment.
I loved going back to it after a satisfying day of outdoor work.
Being single at 31 hadn’t bothered me; I had been much more interested in getting a cat soon to snuggle with as I wound down with my favorite TV series or a good book.
Now I barely remembered what having time to myself was like.
I stayed by the door at first, expecting the elf to be back any minute. But as time went by and there was still no sign of him, I sat on the grassy ground, my back resting on the wall.
I’d better use the opportunity to take a breather.
Only half the workday had passed, as far as I could tell, but tending the gardens in this place was no easy feat.
Just like large-scale gardening, in general.
The main difference was that down here, most of the plants I took care of were not supposed to survive in a cave at all.
And they were not just surviving: they were thriving underground, without proper soil and sunlight. Maybe the crystals on the walls were magical. Nothing seemed impossible at this point, with creatures of myth and fantasy having taken over the world in the second apocalypse.
I studied the intricate drawing of dancing elves on the opposite wall.
Beings who created such beautiful art should not be lumped together with zombies and vampires, and yet they were just as deadly to humans.
They wanted us gone because we destroyed the environment elves were sworn to protect, or so claimed the people on the radio transmissions.
Now that I was here, witnessing the care they put into nurturing every single plant, I could see there was a truth to those claims, but as for the killing-humans-on-site part…
The other women and I were still alive, but what would happen if–
“Will the Prince’s surprises ever cease?”
The lively female voice came from right beside me. I jumped all the way to my feet like a startled cat and turned to face her.
A young she-elf in a greenish-brown sleeveless dress stood mere steps away from me. She had one hand resting on her hip and the other on a bow across her shoulder. She was taking me in from head to toe with an intrigued smile on her dark silvery lips.
I couldn’t help but stare back. Her hair, tied in a complex long braid, was the most amazing color I’d ever seen: pale-blue like the sky on a hot summer day.
As one of her blue eyebrows crept up, my attention turned to her eyes.
These were not pupil-less and black like an elf’s, but perfectly human and bright blue.
Come to think of it, her toned arms and legs were not elf-like either.
“You get a good look?” She sounded amused as she said it, once again in perfect English. She made a slow twirl. “Bet you’ve never seen anyone like me.”
“No,” I mumbled, unsure how to act around the she-elf. Apart from the guy who had just brought me here, none of the locals had started a conversation with me.
“It’s refreshing to have someone ogling you with appreciation.” She sighed wistfully as though she wasn’t used to being admired.
I found that hard to believe. She was gorgeous! Who is she?
A quick perusal of me later, she asked through an even broader smile, “You’re special yourself, ain’t you? You’re blessed with the prettiest short hair I’ve ever seen. What’s your name, Curly-Q?”
I gaped at the nickname. Since all the elves I’d seen so far had straight hair, it wasn’t surprising my curls made an impression. However, it felt surreal to be addressed by an elf in a sweet way rather than with displeasure. She sounded very friendly, fascinated by me even.
“So?”
“Jasmine,” I told her, smiling tentatively.
“Heya, Jasmine. I’m Deidre.”
“Nice to meet you–”
“Yes, yes.” She waved her hand dismissively. “You’re probably scared shitless and wondering why I’m talking to you. But let’s pretend you like my company for a moment.”
“O-kay.” I wasn’t scared, but I was starting to wonder whether I should be.
“You’re one of the gardeners.”
“Yes, I suppose–I care for the vegetables and flowers–”
“Even if there was another task humans carried out around here, I’d still guess what you help us with, Jasmine.
” She nodded at my muddy feet. “Now I know the answer to my first question: why Karim didn’t let you past the threshold.
” The she-elf snickered. “If there’s one thing that can make him leave a female out in the street, it’s mud. ”
Karim–the name suited the elf who’d brought me here. To this street. Hah. Only in this world would a cave’s corridor be considered a street.
“My second question is why did he bring you here in the first place?” Deidre continued. “Karim summoned me and my bow, so the answer concerns me directly.”
That made two of us. “I’m not sure. He asked me questions about flower transplantation?”
“Curses.” She huffed. “He’s going to do something stupid–again–and get me killed. Over a flower! As valuable as any plant is, my life is more precious, mind you.”
“Of course–”
“How long has Karim been in there?” Deidre’s gaze shifted from me to the door behind me with a calculating look.
“I can’t really tell. Five to ten minutes, maybe–”
“I’m going in, then,” she said confidently and headed for the door. Reaching for the curtain of greenery, she looked at me over her shoulder with a mischievous smile. “Let’s hope he hasn’t finished getting dressed yet.” She winked.
A giggle burst out of me. What a strange day. When I saw the Zombie Outbreak emergency broadcast eight months ago, I expected to die, not end up in an underground world where a she-elf would be joking with me about men.
Deidre had just stepped through the doorway when someone collided with her, pushing her backward. I scrambled to get out of the way, but she regained her footing immediately, as quick and agile as a cat.
“Katsia?” she exclaimed, sounding stunned.
Both of us watched as a tall she-elf in a bright-red gown exited Karim’s home with the air of royalty.
“What an unpleasant surprise.” Deidre’s tone was as sharp as a blade.
The she-elf said something polite-sounding in Elvish, but her black pupil-less eyes were throwing daggers at Deidre.
Being behind her, I couldn’t see Deidre’s expression, but I bet she was responding in kind. “Sorry, Katsia, I’ll stick to English. I know it bothers you a lot,” she said mockingly.
That was when Katsia’s gaze shifted to me. Her murderous glare made me take an involuntary step back and wonder whether her dark-red hair was dyed in human blood.
Deidre motioned for me to stand closer to the wall. “Run along now,” she told Katsia.
I gladly provided enough space for the she-elf to pass as far away from me as possible.
She shot another nasty look Deidre’s way, then walked slowly down the corridor. Her long, silvery fingers gathered her dress just enough to keep her from tripping on the hem, like some court lady. The way she spat “Filth,” as she walked past us was anything but lady-like.
She hadn’t disappeared from sight yet when Deidre called, “Filth is what you are, tramp!”
I couldn’t help it–I giggled again.
“What?” Deidre turned my way, anger lacing her words. “You think this is funny? She had no business in Karim’s home!”
“Sorry.” What was I thinking? This time I’d clearly overstepped. “It’s just that…”
“What? Speak your mind.”
“You remind me of a friend of mine.”
My roommate in university loved the word tramp. It was reserved for any girl who got lucky at the many parties Sophia took me to when she herself didn’t find a hookup. I never qualified for the nickname, being as unlucky as her in that department.
Deidre didn’t react to my words at first, keeping her hands on her hips like an angry housewife minus the apron. Then her expression softened, and she laughed. “Of course I sound like a human, Jasmine. I’m half one.”