I check my hourglass. “I’m supposed to be at the den in ten minutes.”
My mind spins and my palms instantly go clammy. Because I’ve suddenly forgotten everything. Every rule and warning and protocol. Forget using the atlatl. I feel like I could barely say the word at the moment.
The Sindaco checks his own hourglass. “I’ve kept you too long. You best be going. Here.” He hands me a small handwritten map and the vial. “It’s a short walk.”
“Okay.” Carefully, I slip the vial into my inside pocket, turn, and head for the door.
“Veda, wait.” I stop and look back. He glances toward the floor as if searching for the right words, then gazes back up at me. “I know it probably doesn’t mean much—we’re practically strangers. But…” He pauses to swallow. “Please be careful.”
“I will be.” I turn to leave, but stop and glance back once more. “Thanks.”
He nods. “The Moon and the Sun be with you.”
I give a motionless wave, then leave.
* * *
OVERWHELMED WITH INFORMATION and instructions, my nerves already on edge, I walk down a long, tall, rocky tunnel, my lantern swinging as each step I take echoes from one end to the other.
Once out of the passageway, I’m hit with nothingness. Stale, dank underground air surrounds me as if this den isn’t used often.
The necklace Nico gave me several moons ago hangs around my neck for good luck while the vial the Sindaco handed over is safely tucked in my pocket. To have those items floating among all the ordinary things in my bag—extra socks, water, dried fruit—seems odd. Like they don’t belong. Like they should be in some special compartment. Protected.
“You’re late.” The words come from behind me. I turn on my heels to see Dorian striding toward me.
“Actually, it would appear you’re late. I’m walking in front of you.”
“I went looking around. Assumed you’d gotten lost.”
“Really?”
He smiles. “No. I’m late.”
I laugh, but the moment turns serious when he asks me to check my weapon, be sure everything’s secured. “You’re on board with the Sindaco’s plan?” he asks.
“Yes.” Maybe. Hopefully.
“One hundred percent?”
“One hundred percent.” Eighty. Tops. But I’m not about to admit it. Mostly for myself. I can’t handle anything negative right now. Even if it’s true. Especially if it’s true.
“Well, all right.” He checks his blade on his belt, eyes mine as well. “We’ll be coming up near the canal, but we’re traveling to my uncle’s shop. It’s the closest den that isn’t still closed from flooding.” Dorian checks his hourglass. “Ready?”
I nod, my mouth suddenly dry as sand.
“You can do this. We will do this.”
I nod again, but my palms are sweating and my heart’s racing double time.
“Oh, I almost forgot. Here.” Dorian hands me a set of keys. “These are for the doors that lead out of the dens. In case we get separated, now you’ve got a set. Guard them with your life.”
“I will.” I breathe in a shaky breath.
We walk in the darkness a little farther, splashing through a bit of standing water along the way. I open the next two doors with my keys and lock them back as we go. Eventually, we hit a dead end. Dorian lifts his lamp to reveal a rope, which he pulls. A metal flap opens and he yanks a creaky ladder down, metal on metal screeching.
“It’s a lengthy climb.”
“Got it.”
He starts up and I follow close behind. We climb what feels like forever, as if we’ll never reach the top.
It’s then Dorian stops. I can hear him breathing sharply. Something feels off. “You all right up there?” I call.
“Yeah. Just…” He takes in a short breath. “I’m remembering why I make it a point to avoid this particular den.” Another shallow breath. “Heights aren’t my favorite.”
Gripping the ladder with one hand, I detach my lantern from my belt and hold it out to the side so I can get a glimpse of Dorian. He’s white-knuckling the rung in front of him, opening and closing his eyes, sweat beading his brow.
“Hey, Dorian?”
“Yeah?”
“Give or Take?”
“Take. Definitely Take.” I figured as much. “How’d you get your scar?” he asks.
“When I was one I wandered into our backyard, fell in the canal, and was attacked by a pantera fish. The result was a gnarly bite Poppy sewed up on his own and disinfected with gin.”
At gin, Dorian sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Ouch.”
“Yeah. Thank the Sun I don’t remember it, but he claimed I drove the wolves out of the forest and into the ocean with how loudly I wailed. Thanks to his excellent stitching skills, how the wound happened to heal, it ended up most closely resembling a five-pointed star.”
“That’s how you got it?” His voice is lighter. Less strained.
“Wild, eh?” I see him nod before I reattach my lamp to my belt because I really need two hands fully committed right now. “I was terrified of water after that. Poppy said I wouldn’t even bathe. That I stunk like a fish for a good year at least. I can remember refusing to go out in the rain, and forget about splashing in puddles. I was convinced a fanged pantera fish was waiting to pounce in any and all water.”
He starts moving. “Well, you’re obviously not afraid of water or pantera fish anymore.”
“Oh, I’m still terrified of the ugly things. But I’m much bigger than they are, and now I know how to catch them.”
Dorian keeps a steady pace, and I decide not to distract him by asking a Take question, even though he owes me one. Instead, we climb the rest of the way in silence.
Finally, the ladder ends. We crawl up onto a ledge of rock. The light from our lantern illuminates the space just enough for us to tell between solid ground and a horrible plunge over the cliff. Taking Dorian’s hand, pushing my exhausted legs a little farther, once up and over the rock I grip the ground around me with my hands. Legs on fire, when I know for certain it’s safe I fall to my knees, grateful to be horizontal again. Dorian falls onto the ground next to me.
“Thanks,” he whispers.
“Anytime.”
We lie still a few more seconds and then crawl down a short dirt-and-rock tunnel. Counting our paces, we stop at thirty where the den door should be right above us.
“A couple things before we head up,” Dorian starts. “We’ve marked a route that shouldn’t take us past too many Imperi soldiers, but it’s not a guarantee. If we do get seen, we run to the nearest den, not to my uncle’s. We can’t give him away. And don’t go back to your house. I have a feeling they’re watching it.”
“What if we’re not near a den?”
He huffs a breath out his nose. “We run. If for some reason we get split up, hide. Use your training and your common sense. Most of all, if you can’t find me, I’ll find you.” He places his hand over mine. “I promise.”
I pull my fingers up so they latch with his. “Okay.” My mind is suddenly swarming with what-ifs, all the possible outcomes both good and bad, but I’m sure to push them out before they take over. One step at a time. We have to get out of this den and to Dorian’s uncle’s.