Chapter 3

Leiyn stared down at the food at her feet.

It looked even worse up close than from afar. Sage-green and blue mold peppered the outside of the bread. The meat was not moldy, but she still could not identify it. How long it had lain neglected in some corner of a cellar, she did not like to speculate. Six buckets of murky water sat beside them, the only source she knew of for drinking and bathing, as well as empty buckets for their waste.

Now she understood why her fellow prisoners remained so filthy.

The other captives drifted from their tunnels to congregate around the pile. Even Belen came, though she studiously ignored Leiyn’s stare. Only Rhun made no appearance. From her glimpse of the wildsoul, she wondered if he ever shifted from his spot.

“Move,” the Baltesian captain snarled as she reached the small bounty. Claiming two loaves and several strips of meat, she retreated back to her tunnel at the far side of the catacombs, taking her dubious prizes with.

Leiyn watched her go before looking back down. Eight small loaves remained, not nearly enough for them all. And who knew how long these were meant to last them. Looking back up at Zaki, she found the Eteman wore a grimace.

“Three days,” they said to her unspoken question. “That is when they shall return.”

Her stomach churned. Three days. This looked barely sufficient for one when split among six. It was a marvel that Belen had survived these long seasons. And went a long way to explaining why she now hated Leiyn.

Jaw throbbing, Leiyn realized she had another problem: if she could barely speak, there was no way in hells she could chew. Starvation would make healing all the more difficult. Leiyn shook her right arm, numb from the manacle that sapped her esse.

Best get used to it, Firebrand.

Zaki bent to pick up several loaves and offered one to Leiyn. She shook her head, moving slowly to not bother her wounds.

The Eteman pressed it into her hands. “For later.”

Though still reluctant, Leiyn took it. Part of her revolted at even touching the mold, knowing there was no easy way to clean her hands after. Yet the others had survived while eating this rot. Even with her mahia repressed, she still had a better chance than they.

She took several strips of meat that Zaki proffered as well, then shuffled back for the alcove where she had awoken. Her alcove, she supposed it was. Little as she wished to claim it, she had no easy method of escape.

Though she had yet to fully explore their prison.

Setting down her victuals for the next three days, Leiyn rose, steadied herself through the ensuing rush of blood to her head, and hobbled back out to central chamber. The others had dispersed, taking their meals back to their own shelters. Perhaps hunger made eating with company too painful, become jealous of every scrap claimed by another. The buckets, too, had vanished, only enough remaining for two—her and Rhun. 

Zaki soon reappeared. Taking up the last of the food, they seized hold of Rhun’s water bucket, gave Leiyn a nod, then slowly made their way for the wildsoul’s tunnel.

Leiyn stared at her water bucket, thirst battling with her mission. Thirst won out. She fell to her knees before and made to dip her hands into it, but stopped. She had scarcely noticed the blood caked over them and her gloves; some of it hers, most belonging to the soldiers and odiosas she had slain. Either way, she did not desire to drink traces of blood.

Moving slowly so as not to pitch over, Leiyn dipped her head into the bucket. Her face submerged, she drank as best she could. She was glad the others had gone. Shame welled up in her, and the cool relief on her tortured throat was a poor balm.

The Tideraiser, lapping from a bucket like a hound. If your enemies saw you now!

When Leiyn had drunk her fill, she rose, face dripping, and labored back to her feet. She could not carry her bucket just then. If she tried, she would spill most of it or upturn the bucket outright. Relieving one of her needs also had a soporific effect on her so she could barely remain awake. That, or her exertions of walking across the catacombs were finally taking their toll.

Leiyn pressed on, making for the altar. She weaved, vision blurring as if she peered through water rather than air. Only by moving from pearl brazier to another, clutching them as she went, did she prevent herself from tumbling to the floor.

She staggered across the empty stretch from the circle of posts to the altar. Catching herself on its surface, the layered wax was slippery beneath her hands. Leiyn felt her arms give away. She collapsed against it, unable to keep upright any longer.

As the world swirled around her, she anchored herself on one of the dancing flames ahead. It took her three tries to reach out and grab one of the fresh candles the acolytes had brought. When she finally gripped one, Leiyn broke it loose of the wax, then tipped it over. She had not even the breath to blow it out, but extinguished it in the melted wax around it.

Candle secured, Leiyn slipped to the floor. She let her head rest on the stone tiles. A moment—she would only rest a moment. Then she would find the way out. She would search every tunnel until she found what she sought. A passage, a crack, a hint of sunlight…

Leiyn closed her eyes, and a dark current carried her away.

***

The Great Eye gazed into her.

She did not stand before it, but in it. She was the Eye’s pupil, its black center. The coal at the heart of an inferno.

Swiftly did she burn. With sight alone, it sifted her soul. Where the Eye wandered, it stripped away all she was. Something, it sought within her, something it had lost.

Someone.

The Eye upturned and shook her like you would the pockets of a vest in search of coin. She was helpless before it, helpless to do anything but burn, burn, burn away…

“Leiyn. Are you well?”

Leiyn fluttered open her eyes. Even as the dream clung like cobwebs to her mind, it was easier to wake this time. Her eyelids were only crusted with dreamdust rather than blood and tears.

It had not been the burning eye shaking her, but Zaki. The Eteman kneeled beside her, concern creasing their face. Their hand was a comforting warmth on Leiyn’s shoulder.

“I’m fine,” she muttered as she levered herself up on an elbow. The words came out clearer than she had expected they would, and it hurt less to speak. Already, her jaw was healing. Even if her right manacle drained her essence, she still healed faster than an ordinary woman. A small victory; but down here, she would claim any she could.

“Did you fall?” Zaki withdrew their hand, but remained crouched beside Leiyn. “This makes for a poor bed.”

Leiyn forced a laugh and tried to stand. The Eteman helped her rise, gripping her by the elbow, but Leiyn managed it mostly on her own. Blood rushed to her head, but it eased quickly. The pounding had lessened as well.

Perhaps she would recover soon—within three days, even. Sooner than Sharo anticipated. Soon enough to ambush Adelina and her retinue. But that ambition was still a ways off.

Perhaps focus on standing first?

She blinked the last of the sparks free of her vision and located the candle she had extinguished before she fell unconsious. It was still there; somewhat absorbed amid the drying wax, but usable. Two flames still burned among the candles left, one on the cusp of going out. Moving as quickly as she could, she pried the whole candle free of the wax and lit it. As soon as it caught flame, the other candle went out.

Leiyn turned to find Zaki watching her. “You do not mean to return to your chamber,” the Eteman guessed.

Leiyn nodded at the passage between San Hugo and the defaced Saint. Where her chamber lay. “Exploring,” she said simply. “Coming?”

Zaki sighed, but shuffled next to Leiyn when she went.

She did not need to lean on the pearl posts as she traveled now. Already, some of the pearls had fallen dark, though most remained bright with imbued incandescence.

“How long?” Leiyn asked, gesturing to the dun pearls. “Sleep?” She kept each question short, saving her jaw as much as she could.

“It is difficult to determine down here.” Zaki examined the pearls they passed. “A quarter-day, perhaps.”

A quarter-day. Leiyn shook her head. Too much time lost when she had six passages to explore—and the doors at the top of the stairs, if she could manage the climb. Her body had not given her much choice, though. She would have to grant it some allowances.

They crossed the great chamber. Leiyn had them pause by her water bucket to dunk her head in for a drink. Even with Zaki watching, the shame had blunted. Almost, it vanished when she rose, dripping, and found Zaki looking at her not with pity, but understanding. Down here, you had to do what you must to survive.

Her respect for the Eteman morphed into gratitude when Zaki lifted Leiyn’s bucket for her. The Eteman gave her a small smile of acknowledgment, but said no more.

Thirst abated, Leiyn turned them toward her passage. As they passed the defaced statue, Leiyn paused. Gesturing up at it, she cocked her head slightly, hoping it implied her question.

Zaki nodded in comprehension. “I do not know who it is. Arias seemed disturbed by its presence, but seemed to have no knowledge of them in your scriptures. Nava also claimed not to know, though…” The Eteman shrugged. “I am not certain she told the truth. I have overheard the acolytes call this place ‘the Crypt of the Six’ when they replenish ilis within the orbs.”

Crypt of the Six. Leiyn pondered that in silence as she hobbled past the statue.

Only as she stared down the corridor disappearing into darkness did she pry her thoughts away. Despair welled up in place of curiosity. Who could tell how far the passage went?

Still, she lifted her candle and set forth. She could ask Zaki, but it would do no good. Only by discovering for herself could she truly be satisfied.

As a pair, they shuffled forward, the links of their bone chains clanking with each step. When passing Leiyn’s chamber, Zaki stepped inside to set down the water bucket, then rejoined Leiyn in the hall. Several more empty alcoves appeared beyond. At each of these, Leiyn paused to explore them. Though feeble, the candle flame was sufficient to illuminate each chamber. None were even as large as Leiyn’s, several paces across and harboring no secret passages nor items beyond dusty altars.

Even as they continued down the tunnel, Leiyn did not hold out much hope of discovering more. That they were allowed to wander their prison and not kept penned up in cells or chained to the walls spoke of the perceived security of the catacombs. But these caverns had not been fully tamed. The elements had their way with them, judging by the plentiful dripping she heard. Even a small channel might give them a place to tunnel their way out.

Perhaps Sharo would forget her here, buried below the world. Perhaps he would not come to steal her soul.

She pressed the thoughts away, doggedly making her way through, exploring each nook and cranny that appeared. The planing of the walls grew erratic as she and Zaki ventured farther, then gave way to unhewn stone. The tiles on the floor continued a while farther, though dust layered thicker with each step. Soon after, the straight passage deviated and curved to the right.

Wax dripped on her hand, and though her glove mostly protected her, the heat was uncomfortable. Weariness assaulted Leiyn more as the tunnel continued on and on. She wondered if she would have enough energy to make it back. But as she debated turning around, the passage opened ahead into a chamber.

Leiyn stopped at the entrance and raised her candle. While larger than the other rooms along the hall, it was far smaller than the central chamber. The tiles ended at its entrance, and spires erupted both from the floor and ceiling. But not all was left untouched in the cavern. At the center of the room, beyond a path of broken stalagmites and set upon a rise, lay a box of carved stone. Seeing the lid leaning next to it, Leiyn guessed its purpose even before she shuffled up to it.

A coffin.

“What is it?” Leiyn asked the question even as she pressed forward.

“Nothing,” Zaki spoke from where she remained at the entrance. “It is empty.”

Unwilling to believe all this had been done only to house an empty stone coffin, Leiyn navigated the broken stone, careful not to step where her clumsy limbs might give way and send her sprawling, until she reached the base of the coffin. There, she rallied her strength and stepped onto the platform, gripping the lip to pull herself up.

Leiyn caught her breath and peered down. It was as Zaki had said: the coffin lay empty. Lined with moldering wood, it contained nothing but dust.

Despair clawed at her, threatening to send her to the floor. They had come all this way only for this? She did not even know for whom the coffin was meant.

But she remembered what Zaki had overheard. Crypt of the Six. These were truly catacombs. The crypt had every trapping of Omnist teachings. And no average tomb would include towering statues of the Sacred Saints wrought in intricate detail. Its creators would not have gone to all this trouble for nothing.

A theory came to her. One she could scarcely believe.

This was where the Saints’ remains were kept. A crypt once meant for six Saints—before one was denied their resting place.

She would have to confirm her idea by visiting the other passages, but already, she was confident in its truth. What it meant for their escape, she had yet to determine.

Leiyn looked back at Zaki, who leaned against the wall. Though they had proven hardy, the Eteman had their limits as well.

“Wait,” she told them, then gestured around. “Looking walls.”

Zaki nodded, then sat on the ground, where they slumped their head forward. Putting worry from her mind, Leiyn raised her candle and turned, looking around. The chamber was almost circular and rose to a tapered ceiling. She could not be entirely certain with the shadows cast by her candle, but she could detect no break in the stone.

But finding any hope of escape required a closer inspection. Leiyn carefully lowered herself off the platform, then hobbled around the edges of the room. The floor grew more treacherous where the stalagmites had not been broken off. More than once, she caught herself against the conical stones so she did not accidentally impale herself on their sharp tips.

Her efforts were for naught. The largest seam she found in the walls was no more than a finger wide and shallow. Water dripped in the far corner, but whatever its source, it had not broken far through, for the puddle was shallow. Thankfully, it was enough for her to rinse off her hands of the blood and grime layered over them.

Stumbling worse than ever, her head pounding again and her jaw sore, Leiyn returned to where Zaki waited. The Eteman said nothing, only gave her a sympathetic smile. Leiyn had not the heart to return it.