My jaw practically on the floor, I force myself to straighten, then take a couple of steps toward the commotion where Dorian’s and my eyes connect.
Cheeks flush, hair a complete mess, he clears his throat and puts his hands up to halt the love fest. “Everyone,” he says, surveying the crowd, “this is Veda Adeline. We just evaded a couple of Imperi soldiers. She’s probably a little spooked right now…” He looks at me, smile dancing at the corners of his lips. “But my hope is she’ll soon find we’re not the monsters the Imperi make us out to be.”
And then I receive a similar, much less personal but equally warm welcoming to the Lower.
To the Night.
* * *
AS ONE LARGE GROUP, walking in two by two, we descend deeper into the underside of the island, the Lower, they call it. The whispers of quiet chatter snake their way in and out of the line as our damp footsteps scrape against the stone floor.
I strain my ears to hear, hone in on at least one conversation, pick out a few key words that might alert me to what’s to come, good or bad. Something to hint at whether I can trust any of these people or not. Right now all I can think of is torture chambers and dank cells and being forced to milk mud beetles until my fingers rot and fall off.
I find myself squinting through the dark to spot the spindly black things. Because if I do see any, that might mean we’re getting close to where the Night keep the Basso. Where they’re put to work or worse.
And to think, a mere couple of days ago I was digging for beetles like my life depended on it. If I see another the rest of my life, it’ll be too soon.
I know immediately when we pass from the tunnels leading to the Lower and enter into actual Night territory.
Curving around a sharp corner, we’re immediately greeted by a large mural. A depiction of the phases of the moon is painted in an arc on the rough stone wall. Stars cascade overhead—all around—and actually seem to twinkle from the reflection of the lit candles adorning the floor below, the natural moisture clinging to the walls. Along with the candles are roots and plants, scraps of clothing, handmade knickknacks, all similar to the blessings left on the Sun altars up on Bellona.
Several tunnels identical to the one we’re leaving surround the space, all ending at the mural.
We descend a few steps, and when I look down, careful not to trip, I catch two mud beetles skittering along the bottom of the wall.
I swallow back a gasp, grip my hands into fists. It’s only mud beetles, I remind myself. Keep it together, Veda.
But I don’t have it together. Not even close. I lean in toward Dorian. “Take me home. Now.”
Dorian glances at me from the corner of his eyes and barely nods.
Then we all start moving again.
He’s not taking me home now.
Images of Poppy’s nighttime horror stories tick behind my eyes like illustrations from a sick book. Basso strung by their toes until they’re severed clean off … Mud beetles using their pincers to chew the eyelids off Basso corpses … Those who couldn’t bear the demands of the Night are punished in the cruelest of ways … Disposed of inside these tunnels. Left to starve and die …
My mouth is dry as cotton, palms slick with sweat, breathing near hyperventilation. My heart races as if trying to escape my body.
Where the Sun are they taking me?
CHAPTER 11
It takes a few minutes, but I manage to calm my heart, steady my breathing.
Nothing’s happening, I remind myself. No one’s scheming quietly up ahead or measuring lengths of rope to my neck or sharpening a blade. I’ve no reason to think I’m in immediate danger. Not yet anyway.
But we are moving toward something. Someplace.
Keeping my eyes on the line of bodies ahead of me, with Dorian and me in the very back, I know this is the time to get him alone. Perhaps my only chance. I need answers. Now.
Just as I’m calculating how to make a move, get him away from all these Night soldiers, when exactly to bolt down another tunnel and either force him to follow me on his own or find my way out of here, he bids the others goodbye, but a couple straggle behind.
“See you tonight, Veda?” a girl about my height says, her tone sweet and calm, catching me completely off guard as if I’d expected her voice to be low and menacing by sheer association. The fact that she’s wearing a black hood over her head.
“Oh … I’m not sure…”
She nods, giving a small smile and swooshing her short bangs away from her eyes.
The boy, maybe eighteen or so, standing next to her chimes in equally pleasant, “Well, we hope you come. It’s going to be a great celebration.”
But I’m shaking my head. “I doubt I’ll be able to…”
Dorian cuts in before I can politely decline. “Well … it’s not so much a celebration as it is a small gathering.” He shrugs. “Nothing to get too excited about.” He pointedly eyes the two Night soliders, smiles in a reserved sort of way. “You guys need to get back. Veda and I have a lot to discuss.”
They nod respectfully and turn on their heels, march after the rest of the Night soldiers down the tunnel to the left as Dorian and I take the one to the right.
Just the two of us.
“Dorian?”
“Yeah, Veda?”
“Why in the Sun are they acting like I’m here to stay?”
“Were they?” He avoids my eyes.
I quick step in front of him, stretch my arms out so my hands are against each wall of the narrow tunnel, and force him to stop. “You need to explain some things.”
He pauses for breath, gazing down at my lips, and I realize how ridiculously close we are to each other. I swallow, drop my arms, and take a step back. “You’re right.” He finds my eyes, gives a single nod. “Come with me and you’ll get all the proof you need.” He steps forward, marching down the tunnel at a quick pace. I’m fast to catch up, and once again beside him, I catch him looking down at me.
I look right back. “Why do I feel like you’re luring me to my death?”
This, he seems to take seriously. Dorian keeps walking but slows slightly. “Listen. I know what you’ve been raised to believe about the Night, what the Imperi works hard to this day to have you believe about us—I learned it all too.” Now he stops completely and turns to face me. “It’s not true. None of it. Those people back there … Did they seem like monsters to you?”
“Well … No, but…”
“But nothing. I know we just met, that you have no reason to trust me. I promise, once you see the truth you won’t want to go back up there.”
I’m already shaking my head before he finishes the sentence. “I doubt that.”
“Just … a little longer. And if you don’t want to stay, I’ll personally take you home.” He holds his hand flat next to his face. “Night’s honor.”
I don’t trust him one bit.
But I want to.
And what am I going to do? Find my way back to that devil’s den we came down? I’d no sooner get lost or trapped, eaten by fanged groundhogs or a swarm of mud beetles or whatever other horrors live down here. Besides, if he is lying, I’ll have information to take back—and I will find my way back—to share with other Basso to keep them from disappearing at the hands of the Night.