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I NEVER IMAGINED MYSELF going on a great adventure. The biggest I had dared to dream of was retiring from Gladiating. Rather boring, aren’t you? both my thoughts and Sloan had noted. Boring is good sometimes, I had fired back.
I wouldn’t call descending into a dark hole on a rickety ladder underground an adventure.
And yet...
All of the unknowns were terrifying—the sheer number of them was too daunting to list—and yet...
My feet hit the surprisingly damp ground. Leysa, the pretty leader of Kairos, the secret group of outcasted half-bloods, waited beside me as I lifted my hands to help Maer down. She was muttering curse words with every rung as the ladder shuddered with each nervous step.
Her foot caught on the last rung, and she yelped, falling backward. But I was right there, and Leysa was holding the scythes, and I caught her in my arms. Maer looked up at me upside down with wide eyes. The blazing evening sun from the hole poured in from above, painting her into a portrait of rich gold light.
I smiled at her with unabashed awe. Beautiful.
In return, she scowled deeply. “I’m gonna be sick if I stay upside down.”
“Right. Sorry.”
I set her upright and opened my mouth to call for the next descender, but Maer whispered almost inaudibly, “Are you sure we can trust her?”
Just like Aspen, I sensed no ill will from Leysa, even if it was odd that she had appeared from seemingly nowhere. There was the chance it could be an ambush of some sort. But what would anyone want to ambush us for? I assumed and hoped Leysa would offer more explanation. It was obvious that I was far more trusting than Maer was, and even though I still had the same reserves, I couldn’t let her know; it would only make her more distrustful.
Just as quietly, I told her, “You can trust me.”
Maer paused for a moment, then hummed neutrally. I refrained from voicing amusement.
I called up the ladder, “Next!”
Sloan and Aspen descended into the underground tunnel. Leysa continued on into the darkness.
“What about the rock?” Aspen asked.
“I’m about to send someone up to water the horses,” she explained. “They’ll take care of it when they get back. Follow me. Watch your step, it can be slippery.”
“Slippery?” the four of us repeated, our voices echoing off stone.
“How can we see where we’re going?” Maer demanded, her harsh tone disguising her fear. I sensed her sidestep closer to me, her arm brushing mine, and I refrained from taking her hand. “And is that sound—”
“Water?” Leysa asked over the echoing rushing sound. “Yes. It’s the underground river, Jehona.”
There was a strike of a match and the appearance of a flame as Leysa lit a candle. It threw dancing orange light across our new environment.
We stood on the rocky shore of a gentle but wide river that stretched into darkness on either end. It was a stunning, gleaming turquoise that seemed to have an inner light under its rippling surface. Above us, stalactites dripped down like melting candle wax.
It felt...magical.
Gooseflesh peppered my skin from ankles to scalp as I felt invisible fingers brush my arms. It was a presence akin to the violent aura that overtook my senses, but this one was...kind. Reassuring. Welcoming.
Maer and Sloan sucked in a small breath.
A gentle gust of wind blew out Leysa’s candle. The girls gasped when everything went blacker than pitch—but only for a moment, because—
The ceiling began to glow.
Hundreds of specks of twinkling blue dotted the high-above ceiling like stars in a miniature night sky. They offered just enough light to illuminate my companions and the awe that brought down the walls they’d built to protect themselves from the harsh world that threatened them every day.
We were all self-preservers, but this ethereal moment disarmed us into our younger, more innocent selves.
“Glow worms,” Leysa whispered as if she didn’t want to startle them. “The little creatures are called citlali, after a star goddess.”
“You have goddesses?” Sloan wondered.
“Vampires don’t, but—”
“Leysa, there you are,” came a distant voice, their footsteps echoing closer. “Ah, our first recruits!”
A large male with broad shoulders and intimidating height strode into view. His dark skin blended with the darkness, but his vivid green eyes were as bright as the citlali—and so were his half-inch fangs when he smiled widely. His sclera was gray, but it was hard to believe someone of his size was half-human. I couldn’t discern which coven he could have come from.
Before any of us could protest, Leysa put her hand on his chest. “Don’t frighten them off so soon, Vidar. The poor things need food and water as soon as possible. Hopefully dinner hasn’t started.”
Vidar placed his hand over Leysa’s; I suddenly had the impression that they were close. His voice was cavernous when he said, “We’re just lighting the fires now. I hope you all like desert pickings.” He nodded toward Aspen. “We have blood stores as well.”
As Leysa led us forward, Vidar headed to the ladder to somehow haul the boulder back over the hole.
“Vidar is my mate,” she said as we padded along the damp shore, following the path of the citlali, “and we have been together for the past twenty years. He is one of the last remaining members of the Ophir coven, the son of Farren Andraste.”
Aspen made a choking noise of awe. In the distance, Vidar chuckled, a booming sound from deep in his chest that echoed off the boulder as he fixed it in place. “I guess some history has been preserved.”
“I’m a historian,” Aspen said excitedly, falling into step with the apparent legend. I former Bloodfrost was half Vidar’s size. “You have to fill in the gaps—please. If—if that’s no trouble.”
Aspen grunted when Vidar clapped his hand on his shoulder. “Once you prove that you’ve cast your old life away.”
I glanced at Maer and Sloan. My sister supported Maer with their arms hooked at the elbows and shoulders pressed together. I smiled to myself. They still seemed far from friends, but there was at least a little trust between them. I knew Maer was more than ready to leave Sanlow in the past, but was Sloan? We had a home, friends, gratifying jobs... Now we had nothing but each other. Which should be enough, but still...
I looked up at the glowing specks, still feeling that peaceful presence. There were so many unknowns ahead, and yet...
And yet I couldn’t help but feel ready to face them.
Excitement began to bubble in my veins. What waited for us at the end of the tunnel? Food and water, apparently, but what else—who else?
As we came around a bend, my companions and I froze in surprise as suddenly a massive, circular cavern yawned ahead.
Voices filled the citlali- and fire-lit space. Over two dozen bodies were moving around a large bonfire blazing in the center of it all. Some were just walking, others were dancing, laughing as they spun by themselves or with a partner, laughing and hoisting cups in the air. Others sat in small circles as they bent over plates. The smell of wet, cold rock was inescapable, but here, the intoxicating scent of cooking meat was enough for me to forget about the dampness.
Leysa and Vidar led us into the crowd, who steadily noticed us, their noise and movements going quiet and still. I tried not to make eye contact—a small group of humans could trigger half-bloods—but I sensed no hostility, only curiosity.
Whether Sloan or Maer felt that too or not, they pressed close between me and Aspen.
“Members of Kairos”—Leysa raised her voice grandly—“please welcome the newest escapees of Sanlow with open arms and no fangs. They need food, water, and rest after their harrowing journey. I will show them to their coves.”
Everyone’s faces turned friendly, and they started a chorus of hellos as we weaved a path after Leysa into one of several dark cave mouths. The citlali glowed on the ceilings and the walls, aiding the torches built into the stone every few feet on the right side of more roughhewn doorways.
Leysa stopped at one. “This cove is big enough for all of you to share. Get settled. Someone will bring you necessities in just a minute or so. Then I can show you to the baths.”
“A bath,” Maer and Sloan breathed in longing. They didn’t glare at each other.
Leysa hummed in amusement. “Baths first, then?”
The answer was a resounding yes.
Three separate pools in different areas of the underground maze were fed by the Jehona River—one for women, one for men, and a communal one. The calm waters were the same turquoise, gently lapping against the sloping shore with the starry array of glow worms.
None of us wanting to be alone, Maer, Sloan, Aspen, and I all met up at the shared pool, finding that we had it all to ourselves.
“Water’s cold,” Leysa warned wryly as she set a lantern in the archway to signal that the pool was taken. “Fresh drying cloths and clothes are in that cubby against the wall. Enjoy yourselves.”
She left.
Maer padded to the shoreline. “How deep does it go?”
“You can swim, right?” Sloan asked, only a smidge judgmental. I elbowed her.
Maer’s jaw clenched, and she hissed, “Of course I can swim, but I’m short. And I haven’t...” She cleared her throat. “Since...”
Aspen was already stripping down to his underthings and entering the water up to his knees. Maer didn’t seem to care, but Sloan squeaked and covered her eyes. “Since you got—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” Maer snapped with abrupt venom. “No one was supposed to know, and you just casually—”
“I’m sorry.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry, Maer.” Aspen’s voice was soft, his eyes smoldering with guilt. “I didn’t know. Some pregnant women have a unique scent that I now recognize. I assumed you would have already told them since you’ve been with the Blackwoods. What can I do to earn your forgiveness?”
Our jaws dropped. What vampire ever apologized for anything?
Aspen looked taken aback. “Why are you all staring—Ah. Right. None of you trust a vampire to be capable of goodness.” His mood dimmed, and he slunk into the water up to his neck. The water was almost transparent, but just enough to blur the bodies into a hazy shape beneath its surface.
Sloan withdrew her hands to exchange a silent-conversion look with me. With a few pointed glances and mouthed words, we came to the same agreement. We stripped to our underthings—it felt euphoric to take off Agana’s outfit that had become grimy and sandy—my sister and I averting our gazes until we were neck-deep. While Sloan went to appease Aspen, I turned to Maer and held out my hand.
“It’s cold,” I confirmed as gooseflesh shuddered down my body as I adjusted to the temperature, “but easy to get used to.”
Maer bit her lip, suddenly seeming small and unsure. The light off the surface of the water reflected on her grimy skin, but the dancing ripples mesmerized her. She didn’t look up until I whispered her name.
“You don’t need to be afraid anymore, Maer.”
We held each other’s gazes for what felt like a very long time. There was so much emotion in her blue eyes—did they seem more saturated than before?—and I had a hunch that she didn’t know she was letting them through.
I trudged out of the pool to take her hand gently. “Do you want to—”
Saving me from the embarrassment of careful wording, Maer freed her hand to order sharply, “Everyone turn around.”
We did as she shimmied out of her clothes that were as disgusting as mine had been. A moment later, the water rippled around her ankles as she wadded in. I waited until her “Okay” to turn around.
Maer was down to her neck, and there were tears in her eyes as she looked at me as if it was only us, her whisper almost lost to the echoes of trickling water. “How do I not be afraid?”
