“Is there another way?” asked Alice.
Jerren looked around him as though he might find an answer in the darkness. “No, there isn’t.”
I was frustrated and tired. But at the back of my mind was Rose, wounded by Kell, and Griffin, prisoner of Chief and possibly Dare too. I’d promised them safety, but I’d delivered them into a situation as horrifying as the one we’d fought to escape.
I walked down the pipe until I slipped off the edge and into deeper water.
“What are you doing, Thom?” whispered Alice.
“Wait for me,” I said.
I took a deep breath and ducked below the surface, heading into the blind enclosed space of the pipe.
CHAPTER 34
The pipe’s smooth stone grazed my elbow. Heart pounding, I focused only on pushing forward, one stroke after another. Waste brushed up against me and ran past me—debris and dirt and human filth. I swam faster and faster, desperately searching out the end of the tunnel.
I collided with an object—a metal pole, most likely. It scraped my arm. There’d be blood, I was sure. A part of me knew there was time to turn around and get out the way I’d come in, but I swam onward. My strokes grew inefficient because I was half-focused on shielding myself from anything that might hit me. The darkness wasn’t just around me but inside me. As much as I tried to block it out, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I might die.
I kicked for Rose and Griffin, for Ananias and my father, and for Alice. My heart and lungs screamed. My chest felt like it would implode.
My hand broke the surface suddenly. I pushed my legs against the bottom of the pipe and launched my entire body into the air, gasping, retching. It was stale air too, rancid and gassy, and seared my lungs as I inhaled. There was no way I could fill my lungs with this air and hope to make it back. I was light-headed from breathing it.
But if I didn’t go back, what about Alice and Jerren? Would they surrender? Risk their lives to find another way in? I stood in the darkness, swaying from side to side as I choked on the air.
There was no other choice. I had to keep going.
I stumbled along the pipe, bent double. When I coughed, the sound echoed, so I fought to stay silent. My hands dragged through the waist-deep water, human waste sliding through my fingers; I felt the texture of it, and gagged.
Finally the water level fell to my knees, and then my ankles. A shaft rose vertically above me, and the air from above was fresher. I breathed deeply as voices from the fort carried down, the words indistinct.
I ran my hand around the shaft and found a ladder. There wasn’t much room, but I kept my body pressed against it and climbed until I reached a metal grate. The voices weren’t loud—I hoped it was because they were well away from me—but I’d have to be careful not to make a sound.
I kept my feet on the ladder, pressed my back against the opposite side of the shaft, and positioned both hands on the center of the circular grate. I lifted it slowly and slid it to one side. It made a noise, but not enough to draw attention. Not with all the other activity going on inside the fort.
I emerged from the shaft to a different fort than I’d seen before. I was next to the barracks, but instead of silence and darkness, men and women strode back and forth carrying torches. The place was bustling. No one was looking in my direction at all.
I stepped onto the dirt and savored the feel of hard ground. I wanted to find somewhere to hide for a moment, but I had to replace the grate first—nothing would give me away faster than an open shaft. So I knelt beside it and lifted, eased it across and let it slide into place.
I should have realized it would make a sound. The low clang rang out across the grounds.
“Is someone there?” A man’s voice carried down from the battlements. He held his torch out in front of him to get a better look.
I took two quick steps and slithered over the nearby wall, landing in a heap in the space where Rose and I had passed our first night together. By then, someone else was coming over to investigate. The glow from a torch drifted over the wall. Footsteps splashed through puddles. The men on the battlement above me edged closer.
Their torches revealed a shadowy space in one corner. It was a hollow in the wall. I crept over and slid inside. I barely fit, but as the footsteps shuffled above me, I knew I was hidden. Well, as long as no one smelled me.
“Did you see something?” someone asked the first guard.
“No. Heard something, though. It was over here, near the sewer.”
More guards joined them. “Sewer grate is on fine,” said one.
“Yeah,” admitted the first guard. “But actually—”
Whatever he was going to say was drowned out by the sound of shouting. I recognized Ananias’s voice.
I worked my way through the maze-like ruins of the barracks following my brother’s shouts. The noise of the rain covered the sound of my footsteps, and no one on the battlements looked down. Finally, I peered around a corner and saw that he was being held prisoner in one of the casemates. A row of iron bars ran across the entrance, and two men stood guard. In the light of their torches I could see them talking animatedly, though I couldn’t make out their words. Ananias shouted again, but neither man replied.
I followed the glow back through the room. My father was there, propped up against a wall. Tarn too. But there was no sign of Griffin, or Marin and Dennis.
Other guards were descending on the prison now, drawn by Ananias’s shouting. I wanted him to stop—there was no way I could take on several men—but I couldn’t communicate with him. Instead I picked up a stone from the ground and threw it toward him. There was a loud bang as it hit one of the metal bars.
Immediately, the guards turned toward Ananias, their weapons raised. But Ananias wasn’t watching them. He was squinting into the darkness. He scanned the area, and when his eyes fell on me, hidden in an archway, he gave a slight nod.
“Griffin’s going to escape from the gunroom,” he told the men. “You won’t be able to hold him.”
This seemed to amuse the guards. “You can stop talking now,” one of them said.
“You’re all going to die—”
“I said, shut up!” He slammed his gun against the bars.
Even though I knew Griffin’s location, I still had no idea how to cross the fort without being captured. And the guards were growing restless.
“You’re scared,” Ananias taunted.
The guard raised his gun and pointed it at my brother.
“You’re still shaking.”
“Stop it, Ananias,” Tarn warned him.
Ananias wouldn’t take his eyes off the guard. “No. I’m only just getting started, see?”
The words were barely out of his mouth when he flung himself at the bars and grabbed the gun barrel. The guard lost his balance and slipped to the ground. He was mumbling something, fighting to regain control when the gun fired. It seemed accidental. But the result was the same.
Ananias collapsed to the floor, holding his shoulder. Father dropped to his knees beside his son, and Tarn rushed to his side. Footsteps pounded toward the casemate from around the fort. Ananias grimaced, but his eyes were fixed on me again.
It was my chance.
All the torches in one place left much of the fort in darkness, so I sprinted back through the barracks and used the ruins to climb up onto the battlements. No one was there anymore. I kept low and ran along it, heading for the battery. I had no idea how I’d be able to help Griffin when I got to the gunroom. I just knew I had to try.
Three yards later, someone tackled me.