Dirge Danorum

Chapter 12

I gave Ever a gentle prod, and he took the hint. Warily, he stepped off the bridge and onto the stone floor, making room for the rest of us to do the same. If something was going to happen, better that it not happen while we were over the water. Velvet slipped past me.

When Ever had called out those tournament traps intended to misdirect, it had made an impression on me. The man in the hood had our full attention. My hand wasn't giving me anything from him, but it wasn't comfortable with the water. I wasn't sure what to think of that, but I knew better than to question it. I put my light on the clear water and tried to keep an open mind.

The man in the hood said something in Russian that I didn't catch. It was hard to hear with all the echo, and my Russian's barely adequate on my best day. I wasn't willing to take my eyes off the water. Sometimes it did look like there were shapes moving down there – but after the things I'd seen in the Valley, I knew how light and fog could play tricks. Why would water be any different? There was also the matter that I hadn't slept in… what? Two days? At least?

Velvet was asking if this man had seen a child. I didn't hear the answer. I noticed that Venge had his revolver in his hand, behind his back. I wasn't sure if he was being smart, or if he was about to do something stupid. I didn't give him the benefit of the doubt. My right hand closed over his wrist and held it there. He looked startled, but seemed to get the message.

"Apparently the child is one of theirs," Ever murmured to me.

"Theirs?" I kept my eyes on the water.

"It sounds like there's some manner of colony down here. He's offering to lead us out."

"Say no," I hissed.

"And do what? Go back? It'll be nightfall by now, and we still don't have a way across."

"You can't seriously think this is a good idea."

"We ran out of good ideas a while back," Ever pointed out, nodding to Velvet, who gave an almost imperceptible twitch to acknowledge him. That irked me; Velvet and Ever had known each other for less than a day. And I'd barely known her a week, so I didn't say anything

This was all putting me on edge.

"We'll take you up on your generous offer," Velvet said, loudly enough that we could all hear.

"That was a yes, wasn't it?" Venge said, looking grim.

"Yeah."

"I don't like this."

"We're in too deep – if this guy or his friends mean us harm, we'll never make it back to the tunnel anyway. Better to feel them out," I said. It was the truth; rather than the best play, this was simply the least awful. You could count on Ever for decisions like that. You could count on Ever for a lot of things. Maybe that was why I was starting to hate him. He couldn't go back to Duty soon enough. It wasn't like I was just itching to point the Lunch Box at him – but I'd subconsciously started to look for an excuse.

The man under the hood sounded normal enough. I didn't think he was a native Russian speaker, but it should be obvious by now that I'm not an expert on nationalities. I think he must've been some kind of European. Older than Ever, not that Ever was all that old. He could only be a year or two older than I was – though he seemed much older. There was another reason not to like him. Guys like that are always full of themselves. My hand flexed. I'd seen egos, but never one big enough to stop a bullet.

The hooded man had no light. He was leading us by – I don't know even know how he was doing it. But he was. Nobody was speaking now. Everyone was on their guard. Our guide couldn't have failed to notice it.

A drop of icy water fell on me, and I stopped to look up into the dark. I was running down scenario after scenario, and I could tell Ever was doing the same thing. And we were both probably hitting the same wall: insufficient data. The moment this hooded man appeared, we went from a bizarre situation to an even worse one in the blink of an eye. None of us had a clue what was going on. We'd been winging it before, but now there wasn't even a word for what we were doing.

I glanced down at the water and froze. The Morton Stalker stared up at me. No, it was just my reflection. I shook my head and started to walk again. Ahead we could hear more falling water, splashing over rocks and pouring into pools. The echoes conveyed a sense of great height, and I realized we were going downhill. It was getting seriously cold, and I missed my armor, but Velvet needed it more than I did. What I needed was to be thinking about how I was going to get us out of this mess – because I didn't need my hand to tell me we were in one.

I knew one way. Before I could act, Ever was at my side, his arm thrown around my shoulders in a comradely fashion. I took my hand away from my gun.

"Don't," he said flatly, keeping his eyes on the back of our guide. "You can't force their hand when you don't know who they are."

"We're waiting for something that isn't coming," I whispered. "We have to do something."

Ever looked at me for a moment, then sighed. "Are you a churchgoer?"

"What? No."

He cleared his throat. "The Kingdom of Heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field. But while everyone was sleeping, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and went away. When the wheat sprouted and formed heads, then the weeds also appeared. The owner's servants came to him and said, Sir – didn't you sow good seed in your field? Where did the weeds come from? An enemy did this, the owner replied. The servants asked him: do you want us to go pull them up? No, he answered. Let both grow together until the harvest. At that time I will tell the harvesters: first collect the weeds and tie them in bundles to be burned; then gather the wheat and bring it into my barn." Ever released me. "There are children down here," he added quietly, in case I hadn't picked up on the message. For the record, I had. I glared at him.

If spontaneous combustion was possible, I'd have done it. But he was right. I left Lunch Box in its holster, and our guide got to go on living. For now.

Someday rushing down was going to be the right move, but Ever was going to stay back and try to lame it out, and he was going to lose because of it. Mark my words.

There was a familiar glow ahead. It was the same type of bioluminescent fungus I'd encountered the last time I was down here – but not the same stuff. The hue was different. The kind I'd seen before had been more blue than green, a beautiful and calming hue. This was deep green.

There was the mouth of a natural tunnel ahead. Still roomy, not cramped – but it looked like we were leaving the big caverns. Or maybe we'd travel a few yards through this and emerge in another one. There was no way to tell. All bets were off down here.

More water pooled around our feet. We'd actually done some light wading to get here. The lower we went, the wetter it became. If the rocks above cracked or broke, the water from those lakes up there could conceivably flood these passages. That was a cheery thought.

Now we were in the tunnel. My light showed thousands and thousands of pores in some of the stone formations, natural, like some kind of coral. There were also carvings, but I didn't get a good look at them – our guide had quickened his pace.

Tunnels branched off, but he was confident. He knew exactly where he was going. Now the echoes of falling water were distant, and we were making most of the sound.

I heard tiny footfalls down one corridor. I wondered if it would be a good play to ask this guy who he was, and what he and his people were doing down here. But Ever hadn't done so, and neither had Velvet or Grigor. That probably meant there was a good reason for it. My guess: they were still trying to feel him out, letting the status quo ride without tipping their hands. And that was fine – I just wondered what he'd say if asked. Something told me it wouldn't be the truth.

My hand was telling me I was in danger whether I wanted it to or not, but that was all it had to say, and that was odd – and yet not odd. I mean, if there was danger, I don't think it would be too much of a stretch to guess it had something to do with this hooded man and whoever else was down here with him. Yet that wasn't the vibe I was getting. There was an awful inconsistency at work, and I was starting to feel sick.

I could see now what had at first looked like a black robe was in fact an oversized hooded coat, not unlike the ones the bandits seem to love so much. That was something; I think maybe it implied that this man was a stalker. He wasn't a bandit. Bandits are cowards. You'd never find one down here. And you certainly wouldn't find them raising kids.

Then we weren't in the tunnel anymore. We were in a chamber from which at least half a dozen corridors branched off. There were openings high in the walls, like windows. In the feeble light from the fungus, I could see movement. There were dark figures at those windows, and in the halls all around us. It wasn't like we'd made it hard for them; we were surrounded.

[Author note – let me know how I'm doing! Stop by the blog, leave a comment, ask a question, write a review – whatever works for you. I gotta have that feedback to know when I'm doing it right and when I'm doing it wrong. Thanks for reading.]

–Wish