“We lived underground,” I say. “No need to poison ourselves with it.”
“Still would’ve been hot,” Amara says. “I couldn’t have done it.”
“Well, we do. Or we did,” I say.
“Impressive,” Amara says “Well, crash course in epis then. It only grows in tunnels left behind by a zemlja, but that’s only one aspect of it. It has to be fertilized, which is where the sismis come in. They roost in these tunnels, though the proximity of the Tribe has driven this clutch to a different home. Their dung is the fertilizer.”
“So why doesn’t it grow from the ground?” I ask, staring up at the glowing strands.
“Hell if I know,” Amara says. “Ask Calista or Jolie, though I’ll warn you, be prepared if you do.”
“Be prepared?” I ask.
“Oh yeah, you’ll be there for hours,” she says. “Or until you poke your eardrums out with the nearest sharp object. They’re botanists, also known as b-o-r-i-n-g!”
I laugh. “Right, thanks for the heads up. So how do we… never mind.”
I stop my question when I see Ladon cup his hands and Shidan put his foot into the saddle he creates. Ladon’s wings open part way as his muscles ripple and he lifts Shidan into the air. Shidan stretches as far as he can with a small knife held in one hand and cuts a strand off as high as he can reach.
The strand drops to the ground, its glow dimming the moment it’s cut from its base. Sverre carefully gathers the strand, looping its length around his arm while Ladon and Shidan cut another one.
“How do I help?” I ask.
“We need to wrap the strands in these specially oiled leathers,” Amara says as she unfolds a large piece of leather and lays it out on the ground.
Sverre and Amara work precisely together, handling the epis with extreme care. I stand next to Khabri, unsure what I can do to help, but I watch in case I need to do it myself or see something I can do to help. A low rumble shakes the cavern.
“What’s that?” I ask, looking around as dust fills the air, drifting off the ceiling.
“I don’t know,” Khabri says, walking towards the crack we came in here from.
He stares through the opening while the others finish wrapping the second strand.
“This is enough for now,” Ladon says.
“Get back!” Khabri yells, spinning on his heel towards us and running at me like a freight train bearing down.
Before I can speak, he hooks his arm around my stomach, lifts me off my feet, and we’re running. It knocks my air out, he grabbed me so hard. I’m gasping, trying to catch my breath as he carries me over his shoulder. I see what we’re running away from, and as air rushes into my lungs, I expel it in a scream.
The wall around the crack glows bright red-orange, then it explodes.
Shards of rock scream through the air, cutting my arms and face and burning the wounds closed as fast as they form. Khabri jerks me off his shoulder and shields me with his body. I smell the scent of burnt flesh, but he doesn’t cry out or make a sound, running deeper into the tunnel.
Everyone is running ahead into the constant blackness. Behind us, Invaders were pouring through the opening they blasted in the wall. Now I hear their boots echoing off the walls. There’s sunlight ahead. Khabri runs faster, seeing a possible escape.
The walls disappear as we emerge into a cavern. Above us is an opening to the red Tajss sky, but there’s no way to reach it. This cavern isn’t as tall as the original opening where the Tribe had their kitchens, but it’s still too tall for even the Zmaj to reach up and pull us out.
Khabri sits me down as we all evaluate if we can make an escape or a stand. Pillars that are about as thick as me dot the open area, reaching from floor to ceiling. Invader boots storm down the tunnel, coming closer with each passing second.
“That tunnel is collapsed,” Sverre says, pointing at the only other exit.
“I don’t see a way out,” Shidan says, pulling his lochaber off his back.
Ladon’s wings flutter, then his tail rises up past his head, vibrating.
“Do as I say,” he orders.
He moves to stand beneath the opening. “Shidan, come here.”
He cups his hands nodding. Shidan follows the obvious solution, putting his foot into Ladon’s hands. Ladon heaves Shidan skyward. Shidan opens his wings and gets his hands on the edge of the opening.
He’s scrabbling, wings flapping, sand pouring in, then he finds purchase and crawls his way over the side. In a moment, he reappears in the opening, sticking his hand down. Ladon throws Amara up to him next. Shidan grabs her arm and pulls her out.
“Go,” Khabri says. Grabbing me by my waist, he rushes to the opening, and not waiting for Ladon, throws me up into the air himself.
I yelp and wave my arms, but Shidan snatches me easily. He jerks me up and over, and I land with a thump on the desert sand.
Metal clangs on metal emerging from the crack in the ground. With my heart thundering, I race to the opening on my hands and knees and look in.
A dozen Invaders are engaged with the Zmaj. Khabri is fighting three of them and holding his own, but it’s not going to be enough. There are too many of them.
“Sverre!” Ladon yells.
Sverre is fighting two Invaders, glances at Ladon, and nods. His lochaber whistles as it becomes a complete blur in the air, forcing the Invaders back as the spinning lochaber makes what looks like dozens of small cuts on each of them. The moment they back up, he turns and runs at Ladon.
He leaps towards Ladon, his foot extending and landing in Ladon’s waiting hands. Ladon heaves him up at the same moment as a club slams against Sverre’s leg, and I hear something crack.
Sverre cries out, but Shidan catches his arm and pulls him out of the opening. Sverre crawls out of the way, dragging one leg behind him.
Khabri is hard pressed. There are too many Invaders. Ladon has engaged four of them, but they’re forcing him back, away from the crack above. I’m too scared to scream. Frozen in place, watching these men fight for their lives. Fight for mine and all our lives.
Ladon is using one of the pillars to tangle the Invaders. Dodging from one side to the other. One of the Invaders fighting him roars and slams its club into the pillar. The pillar cracks and the ground I’m lying on rumbles.
A light shines in Ladon’s eyes. I see it from here, like a lightbulb turned on.
“Come on!” Ladon yells, dancing around that pillar. “Come on!”
Two of the Invaders swing, but it’s clear this is Ladon’s plan. Their clubs slam against the pillar again, and this time Ladon turns and runs. The pillar implodes, dust rising up where it was, and then the ceiling collapses.
I can’t leave. The opening is bigger now as the ground collapses. The four Invaders Ladon was fighting are buried in a ton of sand and rock. Ladon runs toward Khabri where he still fights, but Ladon has taken many small wounds, and blood is pouring down his chest, his face, and on his arms.
“Khabri!” Ladon yells.
He stoops as he runs, cupping his hands before him. Khabri glances, sees him coming, then attacks with an incredibly primal ferocity. He charges the Invaders, blade swinging in wild wide arcs. The Invaders fall back at his charge, and then he turns and runs for Ladon.
Shidan throws himself flat on the ground and reaches into the hole. Khabri flies up and Shidan catches his arm, pulling him over the edge. He scrambles around, lies flat next to Shidan.