Page 32 of Katya and the Young God

“Good morning.” She gestures at the fire, as if this is a normal camping trip and everyone is friendly.

She’s rewarded by Feketer and Pieter exchanging equally bewildered looks, and she pushes herself up and to the tent, rolling her shoulder back as much as she can.

* * *

After a quick,dense breakfast, JD gathers them at the mouth of the cave, and the closer she gets the more her hair stands on end, but after spending the night, it’s almost a friendly sense. A familiar static electricity. Somehow.

The human cave guides, all in their fancy gear, are practically bouncing with excitement and energy, as if they can’t wait to go into a situation where they might be actually sacrificed.

Looking at them directly makes Katya feel like her throat’s gonna close up, so she doesn’t. But out of some sense of responsibility, some sense of guilt, she keeps them in her peripheral vision.

“Everyone ready?” JD asks, like he’s a fucking camp counselor, like he’s a circus announcer. “We have about six hours of climbing, give or take, depending how fast you all go, before the first seal.”

The humans nod, obviously apprised on the supernatural nature of this trip, but the guilt still sticks in Katya’s throat.

“Now, let’s have Nathan here go over a primer on the first leg.” JD gestures to one of the cavers, a fresh-faced blond man with broad shoulders and calluses on his hands.

“So we all know this place is spooky, but let's do our best to preserve some of the creepy until we get some official state people here,” he says, and his voice has a nice, smooth tone, like he sings as a side gig, outside of whatever cave touring he does. “The big problem is going to be the ceiling clearance in the second chamber for our tall members—" he points at the Golem, who hulks over the entire group “—and then the rappel down to the actual seal, for those who aren’t used to this.”

Katya doesn’t like the sound of that, but she doesn’t like the sound of any of this.

Stepan the dog weasels his way to her, before leaning against her legs and thumping his tail.

She doesn’t have to look at Pieter to know she’s getting the same comically offended look as before, but it tugs at the back of her mind, teasing her lips into a smile.

She likes confusing people. Keeps them on their feet, keeps them from figuring her out.

“If you need any help, if you are struggling with any technical aspect of the climb, ask for help. Don’t try to tough it out, don’t hide any busted ankles or anything, one of us will come and assist.” He shifts his bag onto his shoulders, and Katya wishes whatever force that lays beneath them has mercy on him.

5

The first step inside the cave brings a cool puff of air, like a sigh. The second step brings a creeping sensation of damp, of something winding its way into her bones.

The third brings confidence, as her boots hit the solid floor and they flip on their headlamps, drawing the entire room into view.

There are high arches, carved out of a shining white stone, and stalagmites reach down from the ceiling. Deep in the cave, there’s a solid drip.

There’s a path, lined with more white stones, wide enough for two people to walk side by side, leading them deeper into the cavern, winding through the large room in a lazy path.

The buzzing, so prominent outside, is calmer under the roof, like a lulling hum. If Katya was more superstitious, she would think it’s welcoming them. Welcoming her.

Feketer shakes his head as he steps in, and the others mimic the reaction. Like the buzzing is worse, like it blocks out their ears, drawing sweat in the cold air. Rory immediately takes off and stores the head covering and thick sunglasses, their pupil-less eyes unblinking at the darkness where their headlamps don’t reach.

If something happens, if they run out of light, Katya vows to stick near Rory, as much as her skin crawls at the thought. Vampires can see in perfect dark, and she would be foolish to leave that behind.

The air is hushed as they make their way across the dry, fine dust of the trail, their footsteps muted. Like the very cave eats the sound whole, leaving them with just the bare echo.

A whisper of movement, and Pieter falls in next to her, and she can’t find herself to be surprised.

He doesn’t spare her a glance, but she knows the situation well enough to know that he is keeping an eye on her, the fragile peace from the midnight hours long ago worn off.

“The sound is different in here,” she says, and even her voice feels like the volume has been stolen from it.

“Odd you would say that,” he responds, smooth, craning his neck to look up at the grand white pillars, the beam of his headlamp shining and illuminating the gleaming stone. “Most find it jarring.”

“Most?” She asks, stepping carefully along the path.

“Most.”

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