She had dark skin and hair shorn close to her head. Her strong features were faintly lined, and she held herself like a queen from her broad shoulders to her sandaled feet. Unlike most, she wore a pristine dress that set her apart from the working class.
Hettie stepped forward to make the introductions. “Chantisse, this is Slay. He’s from Ash Valley.”
Shrewd brown eyes met his, taking his measure in a glance. “Prisoner of war?”
He nodded, mildly impressed that she knew of the cat settlement. Chantisse must be better schooled than Slay, who’d slacked off constantly and didn’t know shit when his ‘education’ ended.
“I thought I’d be executed when they stopped the interrogations for intel,” he said.
Chantisse shook her head with a weary look. “That’s a waste of resources, no? They need grist for the mill, so they work their prisoners until they drop. They don’t even let the little ones who are born down here go, fuel for their endless engine.”
She kept saying ‘them’ like she wasn’t part of the Gol empire, but maybe that was a class difference? Discreetly, he breathed in and caught an unfamiliar scent. Not Gol. Not Eldritch, either. Closer to Animari, but she wasn’t cat or wolf and bear didn’t seem quite right either.
“It’s monstrous,” Rowena said.
Hettie nodded. “We’ll be twice as careful this time. And we won’t meet often. After this, we’ll use trustworthy runners to carry verbal messages.”
“Different ones each time,” Chantisse added. “We cannot fail again.” She wore an amused look as she caught Slay regarding her intently. “Did you figure it out, jaguar?”
That told him she had Animari senses; otherwise she couldn’t identify his other aspect so flawlessly. Abashed, Slay shook his head. “I’m not widely traveled. Before this, I’d only left Ash Valley a handful of times. Cats are territorial,” he added with a shrug.
“So I understand. And I’m part Gol, part bear. My shifted form is hybrid, an armored ursine. I have Animari senses, not the healing.”
He guessed that perhaps Chantisse had been born of a guard and a prisoner, like Rowena. She wouldn’t identify as Gol under those circumstances, as she’d been oppressed by their horrific system her entire life. No wonder she was leading the fight, despite the risks. Like Rowena, Chantisse would probably do anything to topple the tyrant.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he said.
She made a dismissive gesture as others started arriving. For such a big undertaking, startlingly few people turned up. That was safer, certainly, but how could they do anything with twenty prisoners?
“Most of you know me,” Chantisse said, calling the meeting to order. “But if you don’t, I run the gaming house. That provides me certain liberties and we’ll capitalize on that.”
“What’s our strategy this time?” someone asked.
“Gather information. First we watch and then we strike. We do have a plan, but it’s too soon to unveil all the details,” Chantisse said.
Smart. They needed to test their core group first.
The resistance leader indicated Rowena then. “You wanted to say a few words?”
Ro stepped forward and lifted her chin, all determination. “I wish I could show you the sky. For a while, I had a gadget that let me capture images to keep. We’re missing out on everything here. Everything. We all know that they’ll never change the system willingly because it benefits them. Our labor allows them to live in luxury.
“I want to give the world to all of you. The outside world doesn’t hate us, not like the tyrant says. If we succeed, you could live in Hallowell and do whatever you wish. There are other mixed settlements. Another thing they lied about…the borders aren’t closed to us anymore. I went to Ash Valley myself. If we stand up, when we fight, when we win, we won’t be isolated from the world. I promise that Prince Alastor won’t rule like his brother. This won’t be easy, but I need all of you with me. Will you fight?”
“Yes!” The acclamation came softly, echoing in the cavern.
Slay understood why they didn’t shout, but the faces turned toward Rowena all shared one quality; they were rapt and ready to follow her anywhere.
Hell, so was he.
10.
Two days later, the first runner found Rowena right after her shift ended.
The collision looked natural and the girl whispered so softly that even Slay, who stayed within arm’s reach, couldn’t overhear with his Animari senses. At least, Ro guessed that was why he looked mildly irritated. She nodded at the messenger and anyone observing the exchange would think she was acknowledging a muttered apology, not receiving intel.
Though Slay was visibly curious, he didn’t press. Wise since she couldn’t discuss certain matters in the crowd exiting the workshop. Emerging behind them, the girl Slay had saved watched him covertly, and Rowena decided she must have a crush. Abruptly the girl caught Rowena looking and she decided to roll with it.
“What’s your name?” Ro asked.
“Kani. Why do you want to know?” From the pugnacious tilt of her chin, this place hadn’t ground her down completely yet, even if she did react to Slay with fear at first.
“I was just curious,” she said. “I’m Rowena and this is Slay.”
“Is it true you can change into an animal?” Kani asked.
“A jaguar, and yes. What about you?”
“I haven’t had my quickening yet. My brother says it should be soon. But maybe not. I’m not supposed to get my hopes up.”
It sounded like Kani’s brother discouraged her from looking forward to anything, even something that small. That broke Rowena’s heart and reinforced her determination to liberate Golgerra, a tall fucking order. Kani hurried away with a hunted air, as if she wouldn’t feel safe until she reached her brother’s side.
“This way,” Ro said to Slay.
Time for another surreptitious skulk around the city, but this time, they wouldn’t be checking drop sites. The first step of the plan had been unveiled.
“Where are we headed?” Slay asked.
“You’ll see.”
Rowena could tell it irked him to follow her without knowing why, but he checked his temper. Satellite tunnels and natural caverns rayed out from the undercity, but none of them had an outlet. Prisoners had died of starvation trying to find a hidden way out because sometimes tremors opened a new avenue, so someone would go exploring. But it was impossible to stockpile the necessary supplies, so their resources usually ran out and later, guard patrols would collect the bodies to be processed in the great furnace.
Rowena had always been afraid to stray, but today, she had a mission. Keeping an eye on their tail, she led the way to a mushroom farm past the comfort house, then she kept going, heading down a little-used side tunnel. From the smell, she could tell she was on the right track.
This extra farm wasn’t sanctioned by the authorities, tended by prisoners for economic and recreational purposes. The screaming purplecap was wildly hallucinogenic, the drug of choice for those who wanted to forget their situation for a while. Often it was used as currency, indisputably valuable down below. The shroom took its name from the color, but also the way people reacted to licking one for the first time, either terrifying shrieks or maniacal laughter. If eaten, however, this fungus inevitably resulted in death within twenty-four hours due to necrotic liver damage. It would be an excruciating way to go.