My pulse accelerates. The tension in the air is tangible, heavier than the moisture weighing our clothes and hair. Something tells me it isn’t mere curiosity that has the natives spying on us.
“It’s fear.” Ky’s true and audible voice makes me jump, his breath raising the hairs on my neck. “They’re afraid of me. Of the Void in their midst.”
Little do they know another vessel of the Void walks free and clear among them. My anger at Joshua rises from hot to scalding.
At the end of the alleyway lies a trapdoor. Zane lifts it and gestures as if to say, “After you.” Ky moves ahead of me and takes the stairs first. I follow close behind. Zane takes his place at the rear and the door slams, echoing through the narrow passage. Our footsteps clap and echo. I shudder.
When we reach the bottom of the long, straight stairway, the scent in the air shifts. It’s musty and smelling of sewer. It is, in fact, a sewer. Soft light shines through grates high above, casting shadows. An underground river swishes and tumbles, moving so quickly it would drown anyone who fell in. We walk along the wall beside the river, watching our steps. When I trip, Zane catches my arm and smiles. He’s not a bad guy then, just another Guardian doing his job.
Finally, we reach an alcove in the wall that isn’t an alcove at all, but a hallway. At the end is a door with three bars lining a small, high window. Zane reaches the door and knocks three times. A man appears, narrows his eyes, and then grunts. The door groans open, mimicking the man’s irritated sound. We pass through and the door slams.
I expect to see dungeon cells similar to the ones in the castle but find something opposite. Other. So very Atlantis. On either side of us, small caves, their mouths covered with walls of coral, wait. No door cut into the coral, just a small space between the wall and cave ceiling. How do prisoners get in and out?
We halt at the last cell. “This is the part I hate,” Zane says.
“The coral,” Ky says before I can ask. “It’s poisonous?” He eyes Zane, then looks at me. “We have to climb over.”
Zane grunts, jaw tensing.
I gawk. Joshua can’t possibly know about this. It sickens me he’d do this to Ky, but he’d never allow anything to hurt me.
Would he?
Ky shrugs. Then he grasps the coral with both hands.
And everything stops. Because Ky is in agony, which means so am I. Even if I couldn’t feel his physical turmoil, his pain would still belong to me. He cries out, but still he doesn’t let go. The anguish splices through me. In the past I’d be worried for Joshua, but now I almost hope he feels this. That he experiences every jab and convulsion.
The thoughts raise a new sensation. My right arm hasn’t been hurting as much since boarding the Seven Seas, but this? Now? It’s unlike anything I’ve suffered. I’ve never been bitten by a snake, but I imagine this to be ten times worse. It’s as if poison has been injected into me, creeping, flowing, taking over my bloodstream. Is this what Ky’s feeling now, or something else?
He climbs up and over, attempting to touch the coral with as little of his body as possible. But it doesn’t do much good. The poison sears his hands. Burns through his clothing. When at last he collapses inside the cell, his body convulses. His palms are red and swollen. His clothing burned and bloody. The layer beneath his sweater is singed, too, revealing the Void snaking up his arm.
Zane’s face is contorted, his mouth upside down.
I don’t know whether to puke or scream. What kind of sick game is this? We have to get out of here before things get worse. We have to destroy the Void before the other Callings fail.
“I’m afraid you’re next.” Zane gestures to the empty cell beside Ky’s.
I glare at him. I’m about to transform into a butterfly right here and now, but it’ll have to wait until Zane is gone. If he knew I could flit over the coral with the hum of a tune, he’d probably put me in a much smaller cage. One I couldn’t fly out of.
This is going to smart.
Deep breath. Hold it. Go.
My hands meet the poisonous cage. I’m up and over the wall, each move depleting my energy, my skin begging me to stop, stop, stop because oh my chronicles. Please, stop. No more. Let go.
I collapse inside the cell. I’m on my knees. Stay awake. Don’t pass out.
Ky hisses from his cell. Whether it’s inside my head or audible, I can’t tell. Our internal conversations are so natural now, the difference is indistinguishable. “The Verity, Em.” I can hardly hear him. “It protects you from certain elements. It should’ve shielded you against the poison.”
Why didn’t it?
Ky rolls his head to look at me through the small coral window connecting our caves. “I think . . .” He wheezes. “With each Calling that dies, you draw in strength, but you lose things too. As long as the Void lives, connected to the Verity by a Kiss of Infinity, it will drain the Verity. You have to fight it, Em. Don’t give in to the darkness. I had to learn after what Tiernan did. It was difficult, but it can be done. Do not allow evil to take over. Overcome it.”
I draw in a sharp breath. I hurt. Everywhere. But my right arm burns more than any other body part. I look down, push up my sleeve.
And there, spreading up my arm like a rotting disease, are the blackened veins of the Void.
It’s a full hour before I’m strong enough to transform into my Mask. I stand in the corner of my cell and strip off my sweatshirt and jeans. I set Dimitri’s plastic-and-cord-wrapped journal aside, wad the jeans, and, using my sweatshirt like a knapsack, tie the sleeves together until it creates a nice fabric ball. Then I throw it and the journal over the wall of my cage, let my Mirror song flow, and turn. This Calling still works, but my butterfly is weak and it takes extreme endurance just to make it over the coral. Then I transform to a human and chuck the clothing wad over Ky’s cage wall and repeat my alteration into a butterfly. Once I’m beside Ky, who is thankfully sleeping, I change back and redress, double-checking to assure my Void arm is covered. I’d ask how it’s possible, but what does it matter? This is happening and I have no idea what to do to stop it.
The Void has to end. It needs to end now.
I kneel beside Ky, examine him from head to boot. The effects of the poison are receding, wearing off like a drug. Ky’s shallow breaths shudder his chest. His eyes twitch behind his lids. His mouth is parted. I’d hoped the Void coming upon me would lessen his burden, but his veins remain charred as ever, though thank the Verity the darkness hasn’t spread past his shoulder.
I touch a finger to the indent above his lips, trace their outline. It’s rare to see him in such a relaxed state. He looks more like a boy than the man I know him to be. Innocent. Fragile.
I want to stay here beside him, watch him sleep and breathe and live. I want to march up to the surface, find Joshua, and give him a piece of my mind. A few pieces, actually.
But I’m starting to see what I want plays the understudy to the lead role I must act. So I repeat the undressing-transforming-redressing process, flitting to the next cage where Ebony and . . . Khloe share a cell.
I’m so boiling now I might bubble over. Joshua said he’d take care of Khloe. What in the Reflections is wrong with him?
The ground shakes as if in response to my quavering heart. An earthquake like the one in the Second? More Threshold water draining? We won’t know for sure until we reach the surface again, and we can’t do that unless we’re able to figure out some blasted way out of this twisted dungeon.