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  “We were all wrong about him. He never intended to hurt me. I don't think I ever loved him like I should have, but I cared for him. I wanted to spend my life with him. I need to get out of here. Tessen needs to know."

  "He will." Daelis stood, then helped me to my feet. "Give Shan the pendant and let him know what we saw here. He can give it to Tessen when we get home. I'm sorry about Rohir. It's difficult learning that someone isn't what we believed, and this situation is worse than most. Go to Shan. I'll finish up here."

  I left my lantern with Daelis and navigated the tunnel back to my eldest son. The white rock reflected enough light that I didn't have have to worry much about a misstep in the dark. I sat on the ground with Yana on my lap and Shan next to me while Cinda the Raxan peered at us from beyond the bend. She followed us down every tunnel, and backed away quickly when we reached each dead end. Her blue diamond-eyed stare made me uneasy most of the time, but I at the moment I wasn't in the mood to care.

  I told Shan about Rohir but kept the pendant around my own neck. Shan didn't fully understand. He was only a year old when Rohir disappeared, not old enough to remember the man who wanted to be his father. He doesn't share the regretful grief that chews at my heart.

  What is this chaos we've been thrust into? Why are the people I love or used to love being sentenced to death in this subterranean nightmare? Who will I find next? Ragan? One of my siblings? Tessen... no, oh no, not my Tessen. I'll lose what little strength I have left if my middle child is sentenced to death in the darkness. Stop attacking my family. Please let it end with us. Please don't pull anyone else I love into this mess. I don't even know why I'm here, why any of us are here. What crime was so great that we were all sentenced to suffer in the abyss and die forgotten and misunderstood?

  I can't catch my breath or dam up the river of tears flowing from my eyes. I was wrong. I thought he left us intentionally. I thought I was right to hate him for it. Everything I thought I knew was wrong and I spent sixteen years of my life wondering what kind of bastard steals from his lover and abandons his newborn son. I had no idea. I'm sorry, Rohir, so sorry. I'm sorry you didn't get to watch our son grow into the wonderful young man he is now. I'm sorry the handful of children we wanted never had the chance to exist. You were troubled but kind, my Rohir. I'm sorry I declared you horrible while you were crying out in pain and bleeding your final words and breaths onto the stones. There is nothing left to forgive because you did nothing wrong. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I never missed you before, but I miss you now. I love you now. I'm sorry.

  Day 19, part 3

  I don't remember arriving in this place. The air smells briny and the rocks are pale pink and orange instead of white. I've been locked in my own mind for the last few hours. Or has it been days? I can't do that. We could have been ambushed and my reaction time wouldn't have been fast enough to save us. I need to be aware, I need to react in a timely manner. Focus, Rin.

  I can't get Rohir's decayed face out of my head. I'm trying to recall him as he used to be, but the empty corpse keeps getting in the way. The Rohir I want to remember isn't lost in a pile of bodies back at that dead end. He's a robust twenty-year-old with a mess of curly black hair and dark eyes that compliment the honey-bronze tones of his skin. He's comforting me after Daelis exiles my brother Elsin to the north. He's sitting on the rag rug in front of the fire place, making silly faces so Shan will giggle at him. He's kissing the wispy hair of Tessen, who grew up to look far more like me than like him, aside from his complexion and brown eyes. Rohir is covered in blood, struggling to breathe, dying. I don't want to visualize him like that, but my mind is forcing me to. I've watched enough people die to project their suffering onto him.

  Rohir helped set my adult life into motion. If he hadn't been kidnapped and died, I wouldn't have gone to work for Mordegan. I wouldn't have left my children at home and traveled the realms. I wouldn't have met Ragan or had Alon only to lose them both. I doubt I would be down here at all, unless my crime against the Jarrah happened so long ago that I was nothing but a teenager incapable of making reasonable choices.

  Shan sits down next to me. He drops two dried apricots and four hazelnuts into my hand. "Eat something, Mom. We need you in the now, not the then."

  "I know."

  "Sorry, I don't mean to sound insensitive. I know this opened a bunch of old wounds. Hey, Daelis and I made a little truce, at least long enough to do something semi-together. Leave the journal with me and go play with Yana. She figured out how to make a new color of bubble and she wants to show you."

  Mom,

  I love you. Never stop fighting. I've got a sword now, so I'll be fighting, too. You taught me well, enough that I'd be a decent sentinel if that's what I chose to do. Let's live in the now, as Yana calls it, and survive. Mourn for the long-dead tonight and wake tomorrow renewed. You've always given me hope, so now let me pass some of that hope back to you.

  Shan

  Rin,

  Your judgment isn't bad. Your luck may be, but not your judgment. Mine, conversely, is terrible. You are an intelligent, capable, resourceful, loving woman. I love you. Until the final beat of my heart, I love you. It's all right if you have no desire to reciprocate. I only wanted to tell you because honesty is one of the few things we have left, and I want to embrace it so my own truth doesn't fester and eat away at my soul. I love you, Shan loves you, Yana loves you. Focus on us because we are still alive. The dead can wait forever.

  Daelis

  Day 19, part 4

  I know you're reading over my shoulder. You're a weird creature, Daelis. I'm filthy, bruised, frustrated, and as far from ladylike as I can possibly be, and you still claim to be in love with me. Maybe there is something genuine in your affection. I'm flattered, really, but the feeling isn't mutual. This is not the appropriate time for you to pursue me. I hope you respect that.

  We've decided to stay in the pink rock cavern for the night. It gives us more space to move than in the tunnels. Plus, it means Cinda can stay in sight without having to venture too close. She's talking with Shan again right now. I hear him sometimes, but her voice is so quiet that it doesn't carry.

  "Salt rock. I think this is all salt rock. I have a couple lamps made out of it my bedroom. Remember those? You said you liked them," Daelis says. His shoulder bumps against mine. "Sorry, I'm being intrusive. I shouldn't read it, especially while you're writing."

  "You have the right to read it. This journal, this story... it belongs to all of us. It's either our death cry or an escape adventure that no one will believe. It's also an elegy for the Jarrah victims who didn't make it this far."

  Yana finishes eating the last of her snails before she approaches us. She yawns, then smiles at me. She lays down with her head on my thigh. "Sleep now. Love my family."

  "We love you, too," Daelis says. He combs his fingers through the tangles of her hair. "Sleep well, lovely Yana."

  "I think I'm going to try to sleep now, too," I say. I ease Yana off my thigh and arrange my rucksack and sword so I can lie down.

  Daelis rubs his eyes and yawns. "Go ahead. I'm going to stay up a little longer to make sure Shan's friend doesn't eat him."

  "Thanks for the nightmare prompt, Dae."

  Day 20

  "Rin. Rin lady. Shan's mom. Rin. Wake up. Now. Wake up."

  I didn't recognize the melodic whisper that was adrift on the doldrums of the still cave air. The unfamiliarity coupled with the urgency of the words snapped me out of a dreamless sleep.

  Cinda stood above me, her face half-hidden by shadows and errant hair. Her eyes were bright blue saucers in the gray of her face.

  "Hello, Cinda," I croaked. The relative dryness of the salt rock cave was irritating to my throat. "Are you all right?"

  Her unnervingly wide mouth pinched as she swallowed a lump of anxiety. This was the first time she'd spoken to me, or to anyone aside from Shan. I'd never seen her this close before. Her appearance was more Uldru than Varaku, but the tentacles mixed into her hair
and the broad mouth full of jagged teeth made her parentage indisputable.

  "Something is coming. You are the swordmaster. You need to protect your family." Cinda swallowed again as she looked down at sleeping Shan. "Shan is good. Protect him. Save him."

  I wove myself out of a tangle of limbs. Shan was against my right side, Yana was on my left, and Daelis's arm was protectively wrapped around both Yana and me. Shan rolled toward Yana as I sat up and scooted away.

  I picked up my sword before I stood. "What is it? What's coming?"

  "Many things live in the depths, many bad things. I've not seen this yet, but I smell it. Smell is getting stronger. It's old blood and musk." Cinda closed her eyes and sniffed the air. "Something else, too. Sulfur."

  She shied away as I stepped toward her, but didn't fully retreat. I inhaled deeply. A faint but foul stench clung to the briny air. Within that was the scent of fresh cucumbers. Cucumbers? How strange...

  A grinding hiss echoed off the rocks.

  I unsheathed my sword and stepped between Cinda and the tunnels. Which one? There were four tunnels leading to this cavern, and I couldn't break apart the echoes well enough to figure out where the beast was coming from.

  "Cinda, do you know where it is?" I asked. I assumed her senses were more attuned to cave life than mine, especially her sense of smell.

  Cinda stepped close to me, then held her trembling hand toward the second passage from the left. "There. Kill it or it kills us."

  "Get back with the others." I tiptoed toward the tunnel. I hoped she was right, or my plan for ambush would be futile. I stood next to the tunnel, my back pressed against the wall and my sword held ready. Cinda dashed to the far wall and knelt near Shan's head.

  A forked tongue flicked through the tunnel entrance. Bright pink tongue, at least the length of my arm. A moment later, a set of curved fangs set in a massive snout followed the tongue.

  Yana sat upright. Her scream filled the cave as the serpent's pale pink head emerged. Its crimson eyes sought my family with undeniable anger. I wouldn't give it the chance to strike.

  It took six hacks to detach the serpent's head from its slithering body. The thing was a mass of coiled muscles and heavy ribs, and my attack took more strength than I expected. Blood gushed from the writhing body as the massive jaws snapped open and shut. After what felt like an eternity, the beheaded snake fell still and the blood waterfall ended. One more threat dead. One more out of an unknown infinite.

  "Wazzat?" Shan gasped as he jolted upright. Yana clung to him and Cinda shrank behind his elbow. "Mom? What... the..."

  "Rin, duck!" Daelis yelled.

  I dropped to the ground. A metallic tang licked the air above my head and Daelis's dagger planted between the eyes of the second serpent that was slithering in over the body of the first. Its opalescent white body twitched, then collapsed into stillness.

  "Um... nice throw." Shan shuddered and put his arm around Yana. "Mom? What just happened?"

  "Welcome to cave life," I said. I cleaned my sword and stepped away from the coagulating blood pool. "Cinda, do you sense any more of those?"

  Cinda shook her head. "No. There were only two. Ebshin and Arshin. Mother and daughter, only two for ages. They were banished here to hunt the banished."

  Daelis stared at Cinda in wonder. "Hello, Cinda."

  "Hello, Daelis Goldtree. I no longer fear you. There are things in the dark worth fearing, and they are not you."

  "Good. Glad to hear that." Daelis stepped closer to investigate the snakes. He pulled the dagger from the white serpent and replaced it in its sheath. "I think we now know what killed your Rohir, Rin."

  "I want to go home," I whispered, still on the ground. I looked down at my blood-splattered robe. The quartet of pendants around my neck suddenly became excessively heavy. My chest threatened to tighten. I needed to breathe, needed to regain control over my nerves.

  Daelis sat on his knees in front of me. A faint smile touched his lips as he wiped snake blood from my face. "Keep that warrior within you and we'll be home soon. That was quite impressive. You're stronger than you appear."

  "It's more impressive to win when the loser fights back." I took the damp cloth from him and dabbed at my forehead. "Ambush likely led to a better outcome in this instance. Still, I'd fight ten of those things hand to... hand to scale, to keep my family safe."

  "I know you would." Daelis stood, then pulled me to my feet. "Come on. Let's take a breath, eat some breakfast, and move on to the next hazard."

  Day 20, part 2

  Cinda stayed close to me during the hours we trudged through narrow tunnels and cursed at frequent dead ends and passages too tight to squeeze into. We marked the paths we tried with coins or slips of paper, and occasionally knife notches on the wall if the stone was soft enough. We doubled back to our markers so many times that I began to doubt the tunnels went anywhere but in circles.

  Cinda's voice was mesmerizing, a dulcet contralto with a hint of a metallic tang. I stumbled into more than one wall while distracted by her words. I need to be careful, or I might slip into a ravine if we ever get out of these blasted tunnels.

  Cinda was an anomaly among the Raxan in that she knew both of her parents. She wouldn't tell me their names, but she did offer some information about them. Her mother was a kitchen slave in one of the minor noble Varaku houses. Her father was lord of the house. I wasn't aware until then that the Varaku had an aristocracy, but it turned out they have a complex caste system with far more tiers of power than are found in Jadeshire. Cinda's father was a member of a caste of engineers whose education was directed by the Jarrah. Dozens of castes, but the anonymous Jarrah ruled over them all.

  In secret, Cinda's father taught her how to read and allowed her access to his library via a secret passage leading from the scullery she otherwise wasn't allowed to leave. He wasn't allowed to acknowledge his nameless half-blood daughter, but it was clear that he cared for her in a way I didn't expect from a Varaku. Many things she told me about him surprised me. Most Raxan were the result of violent rapes, but Cinda's mother insisted that wasn't true for her conception. Her mother never elaborated, but Cinda suspected her parents had a taboo affair and even mentioning it would put everyone in the house in danger. Cinda was hidden away, but never physically abused or spoken to harshly.

  Everything changed when Cinda's father was killed and eaten by a rival lord. The house was raided, and the slaves were distributed among other, less gentle, lords. Adolescent Cinda was discovered behind a pile of dirty rags in the scullery. Her mother looked away with disguised shame as Cinda was carried from the house. She couldn't acknowledge Cinda without her own life and the lives of her entire family being forfeit.

  Cries of "Abomination!" followed Cinda as she was chained and dragged to the hive center. The Jarrah oversaw her punishment, a punishment she did nothing to deserve except exist. She spent the next ten or fifteen years being abused and beaten as a brothel slave. She was exiled to likely death when she vocally refused to torture and kill another Raxan woman solely for the perverse pleasure of a Varaku lord.

  "It was worth the beating. I might die, but I'm free now," Cinda said when we stopped to inspect a new passageway. Geodes studded the walls like teeth ready to snap shut and swallow us whole.

  "Almost. You'll truly be free once we find our way to the surface," I replied. I laid a coin at the mouth of the tunnel split.

  "I have never been this free, and that alone is magic. I've never been able to speak at length and I have not gone this long without being beaten since my father died. He kept me a prisoner, but only because he had to in order to protect me. He was the only good Varaku I ever met. Maybe he's the only good Varaku who ever existed."

  "No Varaku is good Varaku. All Varaku is very, very bad," Yana mumbled from behind me. She crept to my side and grabbed my hand. "Rin. Stop now for rest. Please." She held up her pouch. "See, have mushrooms. We eat and nap here, not in spiky rocks."

  "Good idea," I said. I sat a
nd took the orange mushroom Yana offered. It tasted of rotten citrus and fermented cabbage. Better than the dung-flavored ones we had earlier today.

  Now we're resting. Yana and Shan are napping, and Daelis is teetering between asleep and awake. I smile at Cinda. I don't trust her yet, but I respect her and I have all intent of helping her learn what true freedom is.

  Day 20, part 3

  We're bruised and bloodied from crawling through the quartz-lined tunnel, but we're okay now. Hopefully there is nothing nearby that is attracted to the smell of blood, because we're covered in it. Our own, each other's, the gargantuan serpents'—blood and dust make certain our once-white robes will never be clean again.

  Shan called this gem variety flame quartz. I don't care what it's called. However beautiful it may be, I never want to see it again. I'm still pulling shards of it out of my knees. Orange shards, red shards, pale yellow shards. They're embedded in my palms and I keep shaking loose crystals out of my sleeves and hood. I've gone through a third of my remaining catgut stitching up my companions. Daelis has a sizable laceration on the back of his hand. Yana and Cinda have small but deep cuts on their feet and knees. Shan has a nice little gash beneath his right eye that is certain to leave a scar. My stitchwork was small and neat, so it shouldn't be too noticeable once it's fully healed. I can't say the same about the laceration on my forearm. I couldn't stitch it myself because of the angle so I had to ask Shan to do it. His stitchwork is a mess, but at least it's now clean and closed.

  "Let's not do anything like that again," Shan says as he snips the final suture. I can barely hear him above the roar of the water. We're on a small ledge behind a waterfall, just far enough away from the cataract that we're being lightly misted but not soaked. It's pleasantly tepid and I'm considering stripping off my robe to rinse it. I'm not sure how long it will take to dry, though, and a chill will make me sluggish. No, maybe it is better to tolerate the dried blood and grime for now.