27.

Imprisoned

Reluctantly, I followed Luca around a circular interior stairwell that led downward, lit by wall-mounted torches.

A braver dairne, I thought, might try to escape. But I saw no path: no doors, no windows, no corridors. And nothing that could be used as a weapon.

In any case, there was no point. I might, perhaps, evade Luca for a moment, but only for a moment. I didn’t know this place. Indeed, I knew very little about the nature of human buildings at all.

I tried to picture the vast tower in my mind. Would the dungeon be belowground?

At one point Luca paused and turned to me. “I’d tell you not to be afraid. That you’re safe. But if what I’ve learned of dairne abilities is true, you’d know I was lying.”

I didn’t respond, although I was seething at his calm, almost smug tone.

Luca continued walking. I stayed on all fours, walking beside him. “My focus of study here at the Academy is dessag fauna,” he said.

Again, I said nothing. But that didn’t seem to dissuade Luca from continuing.

“It’s a new term in the Imperial Lexica Officio, the Nedarran dictionary approved by the Murdano,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Every edition, it seems there are new words to learn. Like ‘eumony,’ a funeral for a species. Or ‘endling,’ the last member of a species.” He gave a wry laugh. “We humans are good at naming our mistakes.”

We paused at a small landing, then continued down the winding stairs. The circle they traced had grown larger, spiraling like a sea shell.

Think, I told myself. Look for an opportunity, then take it.

At the same moment, I recalled my father’s words: to rush is not necessarily to arrive. A moment might come for action. But for now, I would have to bide my time.

Luca was still babbling. “Dessag fauna,” he continued, “are species that are in danger of becoming extinct. There are designated levels of threat, based on resources available, number of members left alive, that sort of thing. The Carlisian seal, for example. They were considered Level Three until last year. Then, like that”—Luca snapped his fingers—“they were moved to Level Five. Officially extinct.”

As was too often the case, my curiosity got the better of me. “Do they have these . . . eumonies . . . for every species that’s lost?”

“Small ones. More informal. Nothing like the one planned for the dairnes.”

“What an honor,” I said bitterly.

“Dairnes are one of the great governing species. That level of extinction has never happened before.” Luca laughed. “And seeing you by my side, it’s clear it still hasn’t.”

We reached a grim stone chamber, vaguely circular, with six massive iron doors around the perimeter. I smelled rot and mold and heard sounds behind three of the huge doors: sniffling, muttering, sluggish movements.

“Master jailer!” Luca called.

A strange creature appeared from the shadows. He was human—at least I thought he was—but more muscular by far than any human I’d yet encountered. Broad in shoulder and chest, his legs thick and lightly furred. He wore clothing, but it was a mere leather skirt. The rest of him was bare but for dark drawings that I’d gathered from Khara were called “tattoos.” Tattoos of human faces.

“What do you want, boy?” the jailer said. He had a higher voice than I expected from such a terrifyingly bulky man.

“My master, Gharri Ferrucci, directs that this dog be locked up.”

“Lock up a dog?” the jailer demanded. “But dogs ain’t for locking up in no dungeon. Dogs need to run free!”

“If you value your own life, master jailer, you will lock up this dog and speak nothing of what you may see or hear.”

With a quick nod the jailer complied, wielding a fat ring of iron keys.

Luca followed me into a chamber with no window, no light, and vile, vermin-ridden straw on the floor. “Close the door,” he instructed the jailer. “I’ll summon you when I’m ready to depart.”

“All right, then.” The jailer slammed the iron-barred door shut with such force that I shuddered.

Luca leaned close once the jailer was out of earshot and asked, “Do you recall when Gharri Ferrucci whispered something to me before you and I departed?”

I nodded. “I heard but couldn’t understand. I don’t speak Nedarran, just the Common Tongue.”

“That was deliberate,” said Luca. “He didn’t want you to understand.”

“But why?”

“Because,” said Luca, “he ordered me to have you killed. Killed, and then burned, so there’s no evidence you ever existed.”

Killed. Burned. The words stung like fresh wounds.

My throat was so tight I could barely swallow. I looked Luca in the eyes. Was it pity I saw there? I couldn’t be sure.

But I was certain of one thing.

Luca was telling the truth.

“The jailer’s not a bad sort, really,” Luca continued, “but he will do it if I tell him to.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, my trembling voice betraying me. “What I have done wrong?”

“Done? You’ve done nothing. But you exist, and that is a crisis.”

The jailer walked past, and I waited till he was gone. “But why?” I asked. “Shouldn’t the existence of a dairne—even just one dairne—be a good thing?”

Luca looked away, groaning. When he looked at me again, this time I knew it was pity in his eyes. “Oh, poor dairne, you really don’t understand humans, do you? Araktik, the Murdano’s Seer, is coming. That’s a huge honor for the isle. The only reason she’s coming is because Gharri Ferrucci certified to the Chief Scholar that the dairnes are, indeed, gone.”

“I still don’t—”

“The Chief Scholar then told the Murdano that the dairnes are extinct. How do you suppose they would enjoy being humiliated? Do you think Araktik—who’s had hundreds of people drowned, impaled, or burned at the stake—will like having her time wasted? Being made to look a fool?”

I had no answer. I could only stare at Luca in disbelief.

But slowly it dawned on me that Luca must be taking a great risk saying these things, things his master, Ferrucci, clearly did not want me to know.

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked. “Do you intend to help me?”

“Don’t be so sure I’m helping you,” he replied. He rubbed his chin, staring at the iron bars that marked the boundary between freedom and imprisonment. “I am a scholar, first and foremost, Byx. I’ve watched species disappear. Do you know what’s in the cellar of this monument to knowledge?”

I shook my head. I doubted I wanted to know.

“The stuffed remains of dozens of endlings. Endlings, just like you. Mounted, labeled, gathering dust. Dragged out once a year for a natural history class.” Luca cleared his throat. I wondered if he might cry. “I am a scholar above all, Byx. My loyalty is not to you. My loyalty is to science. You may be an endling. But you will not die because of me.”

That was true. In parts, at least. But I sensed it was not the whole truth.

Luca strode to the iron gate. “Jailer! Let me out.”

The door opened for him and closed again.

A rat skittered over my tail. I listened to Luca’s footsteps fade away.

I wondered if Tobble knew how to find me. Could he even try?

He might. Sweet, silly Tobble. Just the thought of him made my heart ache.

And what of Khara? Was she already long gone, her pockets heavy with coins?

I curled up in a corner, my back to the wall, and covered myself as best I could with the rank straw.

It was going to be a long night.

But then, I was getting used to those.