Chapter 49 #2
The world quivers around us, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Astora, Morvayne, even Scorath—if anyone out there still listens please spare us. I’d prefer not to spend my last breath crushed under a massive fucking boulder.
Granite explodes from the ceiling, shattering with a rumble in the tunnel walls.
My scream is swallowed by the roar of collapsing stone.
Crystal shards bruise my shoulders as Jace’s chest slams into the crown of my head.
We collide and knock to the ground, the taste of sea-salted grime assaulting my throat.
I cling to him, nails biting into the fabric of his overcoat. This is bad. Really fucking bad. Jace grunts as a fist-sized fragment slams into his back.
“Move! Get out!” Saphine’s voice cuts through the chaos.
Isra dodges a salt deposit barreling for his head. My boots skid across wet stone, traction gone, and my pulse roars in my throat.
The tunnel narrows further as we fly down the passageway. Another boom shakes the floor.
Falling sea rock catches my calf. Pain seers my angry muscle, and I grit my teeth to keep from tripping.
There’s an opening in the tunnel just ahead, and by the look of it, the ceiling is still stable.
“There! Hurry!” I jut an index finger forward, barely keeping my balance as fractures spiderweb up the walls around us. My other hand tightens around Jace’s. No chance in all ten hells I’m losing him like this…especially when I just got him.
The sound of wounded men rattles the passageway and my boots skid to a halt.
A flash of panic pangs in my chest. Finnick.
That cry was most certainly his—weathered and crackling with age. I don’t give a shit about the couriers, but some repressed, fucked up piece of me frantically searches the shadowy rubble for him.
“Jace, we need to find Finnick,” I blurt out before the feeling flies away. Why can’t I let go? No matter how much I beg myself to leave his ass in the dust.
I was nothing more than a transaction, a rat collecting his riches. But to me, the old mercenary was home. Cruel, merciless, and abusive, but still home.
Gods be good, do I suddenly care for the old bastard? I’ll tell myself these feelings only seed from the selfish need to get the confrontation I’ve dreamt of since childhood—the closure of a fuck you to the man who molded me into a killer.
“Starling, we have to go…” Confusion flashes across Jace’s midnight eyes. “Leave the fucker.”
“I can’t…I don’t know why, but I can’t.” My voice is shrill and pathetic, but something shifts in his features. Another crash of stone shatters on the floor beside us, and I duck my head in response.
“Fuck, fine. I’ll get him. Get to the other end of the tunnel,” he commands, whipping around.
With that, my nightmare disappears into the shadows, nothing but a rainfall of rock and a roar in my chest in his wake. A cloud of grime and dust explodes from the darkness. Then a heavy cry and a splinter of bone. My heart leaps to my throat. Jace.
“Nova!” Isra booms from the opposite end of the cavern. He and Saphine are crouched at the opening, watching the chaos. “Get the fuck over here!”
I can’t leave without Jace, but the floor beneath me quakes with warning. Seconds, mere blinks of time, that’s all I have.
My mind and heart split, flying down opposing ends of the tunnel. Before my boots follow the only path I know is right, the one that leads me to Jace, a strong arm curls around my waist.
“Let’s go little one, he’ll be fine.” Isra’s words against my ear pull a flurry of protests from my lips. I thrash against his hold as we plunge into safety, but he only tightens his grip.
“Let me go!” My fists slam into his forearm. My nails bite into his skin.
Shrieking, sobbing, half-crazed, I fight every step.
“What did Jace tell you? To be an idiot and run after him? No. He said get to safety. He will be fine. Let’s go.
” Isra pulls the side of him I haven’t seen since we met at Fleetwing’s, firm and commanding.
A dust cloud of structural collapse nips at our heel when we reach the open chamber.
The ceiling gives one last groan like an ancient, dying beast, before the final cascade of rubble seals the tunnel behind us.
Salted dust billows out in a choking wave.
Isra wrenches me deeper into the open chamber, his grip now bruising my ribs, and only when the ground stops bucking does he release me.
I spin on my heels so fast the world blurs.
“Jace!” His name unleashes the tears building behind my eyes.
“Nova…” Isra’s palm clamps down on my shoulder, heavy as a shackle. “Don’t be stupid.”
“I’m going back—”
“You’re not.” Saphine’s voice, quiet but iron-edged, echoes from the far wall. She smudges a streak of grime across her cheek, her eyes searching the pile of bedrock. “No one’s getting through that.”
Her words barely register. All I can hear is my own pulse, wild, and frantic. I take a step toward the rubble. If need be, I’ll claw at it until my bare fucking hands shred. I’m not leaving Jace behind.
Saphine’s torch flares to life again with a flick of flint. A quick hissing spark, then a bright crackle of light, illuminates the cavern. Save for the room to breathe, it’s nothing but rock. Slick, greyish stone and utter stillness.
Movement shivers in the dust.
Isra’s blade is out before I take another step. A silhouette forms in the haze—broad shoulders and a staggering limp from hauling weight. My lungs nearly collapse, just as the tunnel did.
Jace emerges first, coughing, coated in sea-slime and chalky dust. One arm is hooked under another’s body weight, half dragging, half carrying them. Thank the fucking gods.
The old world scent of yarrow and herbs slams into me.
Finnick.
His hood is gone and shredded and his long grey hair is matted with dusty sweat.
Under the smeared blood painting his face, he looks so much older.
He’s frailer than I remember, but the ruthlessness lurking under his pale, parchment-thin skin is still there.
I feel it in my chest, down my back, through my veins.
Jace’s chest heaves. “He was pinned,” he grunts and hauls the old mercenary toward us. “If it weren’t for me, he would’ve bled out, too.”
“I had it under control,” Finnick snarls and shrugs out of Jace’s grip with a sharp wince. “You rushed in like an overeager pup, young man.”
Either Finnick is delirious or the dust blinded his vision. To speak to the King of Shadow in such a manner…well, it’s not like Finnick. The old man I know would be groveling at Jace’s feet for any opportunity of favor.
Jace bristles. “I believe a thank you is in order, you decrepit—”
“Jace.” My voice stops him cold.
Finnick’s gaze snaps to me, and everything inside goes silent.
It’s the same look he’s always had—sharp enough to slice, familiar enough to truly wound. His fierce eyes drag over me, cataloging every flinch and tremble, and I curl my shaking hands into fists.
“Well,” he rasps, straightening as much as his injuries allow. “There she is.”
He offers no greeting, nor surprise, like he’s been expecting me to step out of the dark all along, and I suppose he has. The tracking link between us hums throughout my body like a relieved sigh.
My mouth is dryer than sand. “Finnick.”
He wipes the blood from his cheek and studies me with that stomach-churning mix of appraisal and ownership. Still, a little sliver of relief strikes like a chord in my chest. He’s alive and breathing…for now, at least, with the death glare Jace throws at him.
“Thought you’d be dead by now,” he mutters.
A laugh bubbles from my chest, sharp and humorless. “Likewise, old man.”
Finnick smirks. “Takes more than a cave-in to put me down, little rat.”
“Watch your fucking mouth.” Jace places himself between us.
Finnick’s gaze flicks to him, and something beyond recognition shivers in his irises. “Well, well, Nova, you’ve managed to win the favor of the midnight heir.” He clears his throat. “Had I known my rescuer of such stature…forgive my rudeness.”
Jace flashes his canines. “Cut the shit, Finnick Derald. You’re lucky I don’t rip your throat out myself.”
“I hate to break this conversation up” —Saphine clears her throat— “but we should keep moving. These tunnels are still quite volatile after the cave-in.”
I nod and look to Finnick. “King Ashborne has agreed to pay out my debt, Finnick. You don’t own me anymore, nor will you ever again.”
“Nova Lindwen, trading one contract for another? I never thought I’d see the day.”
Tangy, metallic rage coats my teeth. “Jace does not own me, Finnick. I’m free to go when the job’s done.”
But do I truly want to leave? To fade into the faction and live a quiet life far from Jace and the pieces of my heart he’s stolen? I can’t think about it right now. Not when I’m facing the confrontation I’ve waited a lifetime for.
“Thank Scorath for our tracking link, dear girl. You were this close to slipping away after all this time,” Finnick says, running his leathery hand through his locks.
“Tracking link?” Jace growls with his fists curled at either side. “A fucking tracking link? That’s old magic, Finnick.”