She waited until the others were far ahead. She wanted it to be true. Flashes of her dream came back. Images of a wolf pup rolling on a floor.
“Minna?” she called louder.
Silence.
“I miss you,” she said. Then she turned and followed the others.
By the time they reached the top of those stairs, even Suri was exhausted—and still they were far from out. Instead of reaching sunlight, they entered a large hall in the city of Neith. Suri’s legs throbbed, feeling tight to the point of snapping. She lay down with the rest of them, the cold stone feeling good against the heat of her back.
“We’re only to here?” Moya said in agony.
Tilting her head up, Suri noticed that the hall was vaguely familiar. Pillars lined the open space except a large section where the floor had fallen away.
“Is this…?” Persephone started.
“This is where we fell,” Moya confirmed. “We still have all those wide stairs left to go.”
“Is there really no more food?” Brin asked.
“I’d be happy with water,” Moya said. “I’m sweating like a rat in a cat’s mouth.”
“Water on the level above us,” Rain said.
“Then I say we head up, have a long drink and a rest before we go any farther,” Persephone declared.
“Okay,” Moya said, but she took her time getting up.
Nevertheless, everyone had moved off toward the stairs except the mystic, who remained seated. She waited, looking back down the dark hole of the steps.
“You okay?” Persephone called back.
“No.”
“Right, stupid question. Sorry.” Persephone came back to her. She sat down, pulled her knees up, and offered Suri a sympathetic smile. “When my husband, Reglan, died it was just a few days after my last son’s death.” She shook her head remembering. “I felt all alone in the world. Empty. Lost. Angry, too. Lots of anger really, hate even. I had plenty of that. I hated the world, myself, even Reglan for dying, as if he’d done it just to hurt me.”
Persephone was trying to be comforting, but she wasn’t helping. Her loss was nothing like Suri’s. Minna hadn’t died. She’d been murdered by her best friend.
“Want me to leave you alone?” Persephone asked.
Suri nodded, though she wasn’t really sure. She didn’t feel like talking, or listening, but silence didn’t help, either. Nothing helped.
“Okay.” Persephone started to walk away, then stopped. “Here,” she said, holding out the glowstone. “We’ll be at a fountain one flight up. Don’t take too long. You’ll make me worry.”
Suri listened to the shuffle of Persephone’s feet until they faded away and she was alone again.
She set the glowstone down, hugged her legs, and watched as the others, marked by their bobbing light, climbed the steps and disappeared.
Then Suri waited.
My imagination. That’s all it was.
She sat as still as she could, listening. So strange to be alone in that silent dark. Suri strained to hear anything, but not a creak, not a rodent scuffling, not even the drip from some unseen pool disturbed the quiet. Suri sighed and stood up. Partway to her feet, she froze.
Panting.
The sound was close—very close—right behind her.
Minna?
Suri started to turn, but before she could, an icy, damp hand clamped over her mouth.
—
Persephone began recognizing things and realized they were nearly out.
The hardest part of the trip was over. Already Persephone began wondering: Have they appointed a keenig? Is it Raithe? It has to be him, who else? Certainly not that limp bit of a man, Lipit, or the skittish Alward. But maybe Raithe had remained adamant in his refusal, or maybe he had simply left—gone with Malcolm to his hill past the Bern River to build a new life. Maybe the chieftains had given up. Have they disbanded the Council of Tirre, gone their separate ways, leaving the question unresolved? Or have the Fhrey attacked? This last one frightened her more than any of the others. Although she was surprised to discover that not seeing Raithe again came in a close second. Now that she was heading back, Persephone was seized with fear and worry that she’d be too late, had taken too long. She saw faces in the dark: Padera’s mushed-melon frown, Gifford’s lopsided smile, Habet’s boyish grin, even Tressa’s scowl. What if while she was gone the Fhrey had killed them all?
“Where’s Suri?” Brin asked.
They were gathered alongside a stone fountain. About the size of Brin’s old roundhouse, it had a basin like a shallow bowl, partially sunk into the floor. In the center, was a statue of three dwarfs standing back-to-back, though they could hardly be called dwarfs given they were at least seven feet tall. At the feet of each sat a bucket, partially tilted and spilling water into the basin. When Persephone arrived, the others had already drunk their fill, and some, like Moya, splashed their faces and wet their necks.
“Just downstairs,” Persephone replied. “Wanted to be alone. She’ll be along in a little while.”
“What’s the big deal?” Flood made a disparaging sound. “It was just an animal.”
Persephone whirled on him. “Don’t say that again! Not ever. Do you hear me?” She flashed a glare at the rest of them. “Not any of you.”
“You’d be taking your life in your hands, that’s for sure.” Moya was nodding. “If Suri hears you say that, you’ll be a grease spot.”
“That’s not it at all.” Persephone lowered her voice but not her tone; if anything there was more heat in her words, more condemnation than ever. “That wolf…Minna…she meant everything to Suri.” Persephone fixed each of them with a hard stare. “If it were just the two of them down there, if just Suri and Minna were trapped in that cave, they’d both still be there. Suri sacrificed Minna for us. Don’t you ever make her regret that. Do you hear me? Even for a minute, or Mari help me, I’ll…” She continued to stare until she had garnered a nod from everyone, short of Arion, who still lay unconscious in a sling that looked very much like one of Roan’s hanging chairs. Then Persephone took a breath and calmed down. She shrugged. “And there’s what Moya said, too.”
Persephone looked back down the stairs. The glowstone below didn’t give off enough light for her to see clearly.
“Suri’s been known to forget about time,” Moya said. “Her idea of a little while could range anywhere from a minute to a month.”
“Let’s give her a bit longer,” Persephone said.
After another few minutes, she called down. “Suri?”
Silence.
She got up and walked to the edge of the stair. “Suri, we really should be pushing on.”
More silence, but she could see the glowstone right about where she’d left it. Fear gripped her stomach as she descended the stairs. As she got closer, her eyes told her what her heart already knew. The glowstone was still there but Suri wasn’t. She picked it up, panned it around, but still nothing.
“Suri!” she shouted. Her voice echoed. “Suri, can you hear me?”
The panic in her voice brought others. When they reached her, Moya had her sword out, as did Brin and Roan.