“Seabourne.”
“You’re good.” He flashed her a grin. “But not quite accurate. If we’re talking morals, then yes, that is sadly true. But if we’re talking sexual prowess and creativity—”
“Let’s not.”
Cynna chuckled. “He’s had to be creative, as big as I am now. The upside is that I’m really sensitive down there. The sensations get intense. It’s the one time I don’t fall asleep these days.”
“If talking about sex helps you pass the time …” Lily gave in and looked at her watch. “Never mind. It’s time.”
“Thank God.” Cullen tossed the magazine on the floor and reached for the key in the ignition. “Have I mentioned that I’m not a patient person?”
“Being a trained and careful observer, I’d already noticed that.”
At last they were moving, air streaming in through the windows. Lily wondered just how uncomfortable Rule was right now.
FORTY-THREE
RULE hated the air underground. It was still and dead and there never seemed to be enough of it. The last, of course, was all in his head. He knew that, just as he knew it was being underground that got to him, not the quality of the air.
Didn’t matter. He still hated it.
At least that first, hellishly tight stretch was well behind them. And while Rule’s ribs ached, the pain wasn’t bad. Nettie had helped with that. And Arjenie was holding up well. She’d made it through the worst of the squeezes without a murmur of complaint. She wasn’t bothered by small spaces, she said.
Just bugs. Rule smiled slightly. Caves held more fauna than one might suspect—mostly creepy-crawlies. Arjenie’s Gift was a drawback there. She was drawing lightly on her power, just enough to be sure she’d sense a ward if they drew near one. That was more than enough to confuse vermin. A spider the size of Rule’s fist had failed to notice her even as it scampered over her foot.
Arjenie had certainly noticed the spider.
Otherwise, she was doing well for someone who claimed to be fearful. Oh, she was afraid—Rule smelled it on her—but what of it? So was he. So were they all, to varying degrees. Fear wasn’t the problem. What the mind did with that fear was. Arjenie was coping with her fear, and with the uneven footing and darkness.
Not that the blackness was absolute. Even lupi can’t see in the utter absence of light. Light made them too damn visible in this thick darkness, but they had to see. Aside from the literal pitfalls, like that crevice they’d passed earlier, they couldn’t risk getting lost down here. Earlier, Cullen had taught Arjenie the trick of making mage lights, and bobbing along with them were two faint globes of light. Very faint. Their hope was that anyone else down here would be using much brighter lights, which might blind them to such a dim glow.
So far it hadn’t mattered. Their route was clearly not used by Friar’s people. There was no trace of human scent … which, he told himself, was good. It did not mean they were wandering far afield, lost beneath the earth.
That was the sort of trick fear could play on the mind—creating scenarios and weighting them with too much likelihood. If Lily were here, he could have taken her hand and soothed his discomfort. He’d grown accustomed to that, hadn’t he? But he was glad she wasn’t here. For once she’d be away from the worst danger.
His wolf disagreed. Wolves hunted with their mates, and that part of him disapproved of going on this hunt without her. He could have kept her safe.
Good thing the man was in charge. Lily was in no shape for these rough, twisty tunnels. He glanced at his watch. Almost ten. He thought of his father—then shut that thought off. Concentrate on what he could affect, not what was outside his control. They had about two hours to find Brian and Dya and remove them before Lily would start down Friar’s tunnel.
Benedict lifted a hand in the universal signal to stop. Rule did, lifting his own hand to make sure those behind saw. They were drawn out single file at the moment because the walls along here varied from skin-scraping to narrow. Benedict first, then Arjenie, followed by Rule, Lucas, Sammy, and Paul, with José at their rear. Benedict had the lead because his ears were the best and he had an uncanny sense of direction. Arjenie had to be close to the front so she’d sense any wards—and her remarkable memory was a help, too. They’d all studied the 3-D map, and had brought printouts of its 2-D version, but Arjenie could recite their route, complete with depth notations.
Benedict had frozen, studying something ahead. He held up his hand again, emphasizing that they should stay put, and eased ahead until he was swallowed by darkness.
Rule saw nothing, heard nothing, for what seemed a very long time, but was probably five minutes. Finally his brother reemerged from the blackness ahead. Once Benedict reached them he made the signs for trail, jump, and down, paused, then added the sign for water.
Lucas tapped Rule’s arm. Rule leaned close and subvocalized. “There’s a drop-off ahead. And water.”
Benedict put his mouth next to Arjenie’s ear, no doubt telling her the same thing. Like Lucas, she didn’t know ASL. Rule wasn’t fluent in it, but everyone who trained under Benedict learned a few basics. Subvocalizing was useful if you were close enough, but with sign you could speak to the whole team without making a sound as long as you were in their visual range.
They continued single file, and within a few feet he picked up the damp scent of water. Rule’s heartbeat quickened in anticipation. There was a twenty-two-foot drop-off marked on the USGC map of their route. The map hadn’t indicated anything about water, but there were a number of things it didn’t include.
They’d chosen their route not because it was the quickest or shortest, but because there were fewer branchings where they could take a wrong turn. Since they’d passed the mouths of two tunnels that weren’t on the map, Rule wanted to conclude that the mapmakers had been less than thorough. The alternative would be that they were lost.
He hadn’t entirely convinced himself. If this drop-off was the expected twenty-two feet, he’d feel much more cheerful. It would also mean they were getting close to their destination.
That was a too-familiar spot. The last time Rule had been there he’d been a prisoner. So had Lily and Cullen. He’d watched his bother die, sacrificing himself for Rule. And Lily had fought and killed Helen. Oh, yes, he thought fiercely. He was very glad she wasn’t here. She didn’t need to revisit the place of her nightmares.
Benedict stopped and turned.
Rope? Rule signed. At Benedict’s nod, Rule turned and signed to Sammy, who passed up the coil of rope he’d been carrying.
Rule moved close to Arjenie and whispered barely above a breath next to her ear. “Pull harder on your Gift and see if you sense anything below.”
She nodded, paused, then shook her head, mouthing a silent “no.” He nodded, gave her a smile, and moved to the edge.
This time, Rule would take the lead. They’d known that at least one point would require a climb, so had planned for it. Arjenie couldn’t fight, so she needed to be the last down, just in case. Once Rule reached the bottom and signaled, the rest would take turns belaying each other, leaving Benedict and Arjenie for last. Her skills did not include shimmying down a rope or rock climbing. If there was a place to tie off the rope, Benedict would use it to descend with Arjenie riding piggyback. If not, Benedict would lower her, and Rule and the rest would form a pyramid to catch her. Then Benedict would climb down.
That was assuming the drop wasn’t more than, say, twenty-two feet.