“I was born in Arjevica.”
Her voice sounded breathy and tight, like she was trying to pretend she was fine. Distracting herself from the claustrophobia. Kal understood. She’d had her own little freakouts before. Talking about something else always got her through them.
“I saw you,” Cathrynne said. “On the riverboat from Kota Gelangi. You had a ship tattoo.”
Kal touched her neck. The rain and dirt had rubbed away the makeup. “I got it a couple of years ago. Stupid.”
“No, I like it. What’s the significance?”
Just keep talking. “My friend and I were saving up to buy a boat. Figured we could be traders, sailing up and down the Parnassian Sea.”
“That sounds nice.”
She glanced back. Cathrynne’s torch bobbed along behind. “Well, it beats living in Pota Pras. Anyone in that town who catches a break moves somewhere better. It’s the hope of a lucky strike that keeps people going. But my friend grew up moving constantly, he’s been everywhere. Ask him what they eat for breakfast in Iskatar and he’ll tell you. He made traveling all over sound like fun, even though I know he and his mom had some rough times, too. Before all this, I’d never been out of Satu Jos.”
“So your family are all miners?”
“Not exactly. My parents investigate claims for bigger companies. Drawing up maps, certificates of location, that kind of thing.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Cathrynne said.
“Yeah, well, you spend most of the time clawing your way to the top of some nameless hill in the middle of nowhere and taking survey measurements. It’s fucking exhausting and it doesn’t pay a lot, but I guess it beats wasting your life underground.”
Kal paused for breath. She hadn’t meant to say so much—or quite so bitterly—but it felt good to tell the truth. Cathrynne knew who she was. Where she came from and why she was running. Maybe it could all be over, once everyone knew where the source was.
She pushed ahead before the cypher could respond, ducking through a narrow gap where part of the ceiling had collapsed. They’d reached the section where the new tunnel branched off. The rock walls were no longer rough-hewn by human tools but smooth and glassy.
Cathrynne stopped walking. “Why is it different?”
“Sinn fire melts the rock like butter,” Kal explained. “It leaves behind tunnels like these. They use them to move around underground.”
She had to give the cypher credit—she didn’t turn and run. But she did look green.
“How do you know they’re gone?” she asked.
“I mean, I don’t. But you can usually feel the vibrations if one is close.”
“Usually? But not always?”
“Yeah, that’s right.” Kal could tell from the rapid rise and fall of her chest that she was struggling. “You don’t have to go any further.”
“I’m fine,” Cathrynne said tightly.
Kal shrugged. “Whatever you say.”
They walked in silence. Unlike the straight mining tunnels, this one twisted and turned, following some logic only the Sinn understood. A few times they passed offshoots that plunged into darkness. Kal didn’t remember seeing those the last time. She felt certain they were new but didn’t want Cathrynne to panic, so she kept her mouth shut. The burnt toast smell grew stronger.
A small voice—not Durian, this one was all her own—suggested that maybe they should turn back. The area was clearly more active than it had been. But Kal had nothing to start her new life. Once again, the witches had taken everything she had of value. But that cavern was full of kaldurite. Just a few would make her fortune.
No risk, no reward.
“How much farther?” Cathrynne asked. “I feel like we’ve been down here forever. You said it was a short walk.”
“The cavern is just ahead,” Kal replied. “But we’ll have to crawl.”
Cathrynne swore under her breath. “You didn’t mention that before.”
Kal turned to face her. “Sorry, you didn’t ask.”
