Page 6 of Conflicted Fate
“Do you know where we are?” he asked sharply. “You’ve been here?”
“What? No, not at all. I just meant, we’reunderMount Triumph, aren’t we?”
“Probably,” Kiel conceded with a heavy sigh.
I wasn’t ready for the bone-deep terror that came bubbling up at his admission, and for a moment, I clung to him tighter, taking what comfort I could in the fact that I wasn’t alone. We were together. Which just meant we would both die, trapped under the mountain.
“We’re not going to die down here,” Kiel growled, grabbing my hands and holding them still. “Do you understand me, Jada? It won’t happen. I swear it.”
I wanted to ask him how he could be so sure about it, but the words wouldn’t come. My mind didn’t want to hear his explanation because it knew how flimsy it would sound. I wanted to believe him. To believe there was hope.
“Come on, let’s explore, see where we are,” he said, sticking a hand out in front of him and feeling around before shuffling forward.
At first, he was forced to drag me along as my brain was frozen with panic. The farther we got from the gravel banks of the water, however, the more I started to get a handle on my mind. Soon, my hand was entwined with his as we felt our way forward together, using our feet to ensure there was ground and then our hands to make sure we didn’t hit anything.
Such as the wall my fingers just scraped against.
“Wall,” I said, coming to a halt. “I’m touching wall. Rock. Fairly smooth.”
“Me, too,” Kiel grunted. “Is this the end?”
We slid forward another step. The walls narrowed slightly, but they never stopped.
“It’s a cave, a tunnel,” I said as we entered it, the opening wide enough for us to walk side by side—barely.
We continued our shuffle slide. Time passed. It could have been five minutes or three hours. I didn’t know.
The sound of metal on metal brought us to an immediate halt. There was no mistaking theclink.
“Please tell me that was you,” I whispered, “because I didn’t touch anything.”
“Something on the wall,” he said. “I need to let go for a moment.”
I panicked, an instinctual response. However, just as swiftly as it came, I grabbed the spike of fear and shoved it away, driving it into submission. If there were metal down there, it meantpeoplehad been there. Which meant there was a way in and a way out.
“Okay,” I said, my voice catching.
“Just for a moment,” he assured me, then dropped my hand. There was more clanking of metal as he explored whatever he was touching.
“What is it?”
There was an oddscratchsound, like rock against rock. Kiel grunted, his only response, then the noise came again, followed by a brilliant light.
I cried out in surprise, turning away, shielding my eyes against the savage miniature sun that burned to stare at.
“Whatisthat thing?” I snapped, seeing the light through my eyelids. “It’s so bright.”
“It’s just a sparker,” he said. “Look. It’s a wall torch.”
Slowly, I peeled my eyes open, forced to leave them at tiny slits. But he was right. It was a torch, a piece of cloth tied around the end of a wooden stick. The rag was bone dry and burning fast, but it waslight. We couldsee!
“Come on,” Kiel said, gesturing for me to give him my hand. “Let’s explore. We’ll need to find others before this one goes out.”
I followed him as we went down the hall, collecting other torches until I held a half-dozen under one arm, all just as dry as the first.
Then, without warning, the tunnel ended, opening up into a huge chamber. Larger torches dotted the walls and outlined several pathways forward. Kiel lit them as we went, and the light built, easing much of the tension fraying my nerves. I’d never been afraid of the dark before. But that had only beennight. What we’d experienced was different.
I exhaled heavily as we slowly made our way forward.
