“Shh,” she said, blinking. Asher grabbed his knees, taking deep, heaving breaths. Faruhar muttered in frantic whispers.
The sound of the horses grew louder, a whinny on the wind that made me afraid to turn my head.
“It’s the only way,” Faruhar said to the open air.
She took a sharp turn and ran straight into a solid section of the stone wall, disappearing from view.
“Faruhar?” I hissed, too terrified to yell. But she was already gone. I approached the gray stone, seeing only the lichen-covered rock.
“Jesse, Asher, come on!” she said, her voice unmuffled—like there was…
Nothing. My hand went through open air. With a nod to Ash, I ran into the khel.
Chapter 39
Underground
Ilurched atop an overgrown staircase, grabbing Asher’s arm so as not to tumble down mossy steps tangled with weeds. Behind me where the wall should be, I saw an arch, the meadow still visible beyond. At the bottom of the stairs stood a matching stone archway, Faruhar standing wide eyed at the cool darkness beyond it. She clutched her elbows to her body as the horse hooves thundered closer.
Was that fear? Apart from her fitful sleep, I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen her afraid.
I peered down into the inky blackness. “So … we just walked into a wall.”
Faruhar frowned. “We’re behind an a’s’aan khel. They’ll be able to hear us. They can’t see us unless we go past the arch. We’re safe enough as long as we don’t go into the tunnels.”
“That’s an entrance to the Underground.” Asher stood frozen, cool air trickling out of the void beyond.
Faruhar nodded.
“We’ll be no safer if we run into Asri rebels.” He gestured to our bloodstained military uniforms, then Faruhar’s Chaeten-sa face.
I faced the darkness, shivering at the scent of damp earth and fungus. Dad’s bedtime stories were full of Asri magic that lured Chaeten children to the Underground. Sometimes it was rebels, sometimes the glowing mycelium would make sounds of music, or laughter, and the curious Chaeten children would follow the song to their death.
The pounding hooves grew louder, reverberating through my boots. They stopped nearby—the men shouting. Faruhar’s golden-green eyes sent a jolt through me.
“What happens if they find the khel?” I asked, voice hushed.
“If Mahakal knew of this entrance, he’d have already bombed it. Scanners aren’t much use out in the wild. Oria is everywhere.” Asher nodded to Faruhar. “They won’t find us.”
Faruhar clenched her jaw, her knuckles pale on her sword. “They’re tracking better than expected. We’re missing something. Bria?”
The men were now gathering beside the barn. I could see red uniforms in the field above the stairs, searching the field.
I risked another whisper. “Ash, how can we survive inside?”
He exhaled, raising his hands in a shrug.
Faruhar spoke low, her face close to ours. “Inside the tunnels, Oria can kill anyone. It will take no risks: poison, hallucinations, tearing a rock tunnel down on our heads if it has to. Anyone with a scrap of ill will toward it or the Attiq-ka who built it dies, as does anyone whose conscience is not clear before the ancestors.” She took a deep breath. “No empire soldier survives Oria. If we go in, Mahakal won’t follow, but—”
Faruhar’s eyes were lethal as she looked to Asher, drawing a dagger from her belt.
“Far?” Asher said.
“Show me your shoulder, Asher.” She didn’t wait, pulling down the neck of his Chaeten leather shirt tight enough to choke him as she studied his shoulder blade.
“Far?” he wheezed.
Then she cut him, tracing a delicate circle from his skin and flicking it out. She peeled something shiny and metallic from the tip, showing us both.