“Oh yeah,” she lied. “There were about fifty people there. Your mom . . .” Kal grimaced.
“She blamed you, right?” He shook his head, the flop of hair bouncing. “Typical. What was I wearing?”
“Uh, like this brown suit . . .”
He swore. “Really?”
Kal nodded.
“Damn, I hated that old moth-eaten thing. Told her I’d never wear it again. I guess she got the last laugh.” He donkey-brayed. “At least I’ll be naked when they leave me for the scavengers.”
“Could we talk about something else?”
“Yeah, bitch.” He sobered. “How’d you end up down here?”
Kal told him how the witches caught her, and she shot one.
“You shot a witch?” Durian arched a skeptical brow.
Kal had given up trying to reject his presence. Maybe he was a spirit guide. Maybe he was a figment of her imagination. Either way, she felt glad he was with her.
“It’s true, asshole,” she said. “I swear it on the Trinity.”
Something sharp poked her hip and she shifted. The kaldurite. She took it out of her coat lining. The pouch was soaked, but the gems inside threw off sparkles of blue, red, and violet as she laid them out on the ground.
“I think it’s the stones,” she said slowly. “That’s what they do.” She turned to face him, the revelation leaving her breathless. “They block the ley. That’s why the witches want them.”
Durian’s green eyes gleamed in the fading light of the torch. “Go on.”
“It’s why I got away on the Corniche and you didn’t. I kept my bag of stones. You’d handed yours over. The spells didn’t miss. They just couldn’t touch me.”
“And it explains why they couldn’t yank the gun from your hand, or make it malfunction,” he added. Durian let out a whoop that echoed through the cavern. “We were right all along! These stones are worth a fortune.”
“More than a fortune,” she said, her mind racing. “Kaldurite evens the playing field. Takes away the witches’ power.”
“No wonder they’re hunting you,” he said. “If this gets out . . .”
“It would change the world,” Kal finished.
They stared at each other in excitement.
“You’re going to get filthy rich for the both of us, Kal,” Durian said with a crazy grin. “Swear it to me.”
She laughed. “I swear it on Travian’s honor and all hope of his return.”
That was the strongest oath she knew how to give him. Even though Durian and his mom fought constantly and agreed on almost nothing, he remained a devoted follower of the Cult of the Bard. He firmly believed that Travian was out there somewhere in disguise, watching over his children. Or having a good time at least.
“Better get moving,” Durian said, jerking his chin at the twisted, downward-sloping tunnel ahead.
Kal nodded briskly. She took a moment to add three more bullets to the magazine, then rewrapped the box and the pistol. Stashed the kaldurite back in its pouch. Then she entered the sinuous, off-kilter tunnel, bracing her hands on the walls for balance.
The torch died soon after that, but Durian stayed with her, whispering encouragement and chivvying her onward with descriptions of the ship she would buy—a small, fleet caravel that could navigate the shallows with a minimal crew. Together, they would sail far away, somewhere the witches could never find them.
The tunnel gradually widened. After a while, she could see the walls again. Gray light filtered through an opening somewhere up ahead. She must have walked all night. Judging by the ravenous ache in her belly, maybe more than one night.
Kal staggered the last stretch, lightheaded with joyful relief at her escape from the mines. It wasn’t until she stood at the exit, staring down at a scrubby valley, that she realized her friend hadn’t spoken in many minutes.
When she turned back, Durian was gone.
