Chapter 12

Chapter

Twelve

Z ev hadn't expected to be able to sleep, but he'd obviously been more exhausted than he'd realized. Neither the cold stone floor nor the tumult of emotions brought on by Marieke's nearness had kept him from slipping into slumber. He woke not very refreshed, but instantly alert. He needed his wits about him for whatever the day would bring. He couldn't afford to wallow in his guilt over almost kissing Marieke again.

Or his disappointment that he hadn't followed through and done it.

He rolled up his pallet and folded his blanket, stepping quietly into the little cavern. The monarchists must use good oil in their lanterns, since the one left by the guard was still burning. For a moment he paused, studying Marieke's face, so peaceful in sleep. Then he shook off his pensive mood and knelt beside her, gently shaking her shoulder.

"What is it?" She came awake quickly, her voice groggy. "What's happening?"

"It's morning," Zev said, hiding a smile at her bleary expression. "I thought you might prefer to be woken by me rather than by Svetlana or someone coming to get us. "

Marieke sat up, hiding a yawn with her hand as she looked around at the dimly lit cavern. "How do you know it's morning?"

Zev shrugged, rising to his feet. "I don't know. I just do."

"Ugh." Marieke looked like she wanted to flop back down again. "Farmers."

Zev let out a chuckle as he picked up the lantern. "I don't think you'll be complaining about farmers when you eat the food we grow."

"I am hungry for breakfast," Marieke acknowledged, patting her disheveled braid with a self-conscious air as she threw the blanket off and pulled her boots back on. "But I'm still confused about where these people get their food."

"I think they must send people up to the surface to trade for at least some of it," Zev said. "They might want to seem totally separate down here, but Svetlana made it clear they know what's going on up there."

"Which means there must be a safe way up out of the canyon," Marieke mused as she rolled up her pallet. "Probably more than one."

"Exactly." Zev nodded. "Having slept on it, what do you make of Svetlana?"

"I'm not sure," Marieke said. "I don't think she's going to attack us, like Gorgon did. But I wouldn't go as far as to say I trust her."

"Definitely not," Zev agreed. He frowned. "Good leaders should take responsibility for the people they lead, but she's very quick to distance herself from Gorgon."

"And what was all that talk about Gorgon being led astray by outside influences?" Marieke added. "As if he needed any influence other than hers to go after singers—the whole purpose of this community is to deny the authority of the singers he attacked! "

Footsteps in the corridor stilled Zev's reply. A moment later the curtain was pushed back, the same guide from the previous evening sticking his head in. With no regard whatsoever for privacy, Zev thought with a frown.

"Svetlana wants you," the man said curtly. He picked up the lantern and disappeared back through the curtain.

"Good morning to you too, sunshine," Marieke muttered, earning a grin from Zev.

They hurried to catch up to the guard, who was already striding down the corridor with their only source of light.

Zev had tried to memorize their turns the night before, just in case they needed to find their way out unaided, and he was pleased to see that his guesses proved correct at each turn. He was glad their lives didn't depend on his memory, though. One wrong turn could have them wandering the labyrinth for days.

When they emerged back into the main cavern, he felt Marieke's tension lighten along with his own. Eager as he was for his turn, he gestured for her to go first through the room with the spring.

"Thanks," Marieke said, grinning sheepishly as she hurried through the doorway. She took longer to emerge this time, and when she did, she'd re-braided her hair. She was, as always, beautiful. Zev acknowledged the fact to himself without hesitation. He'd long since stopped trying to deny her attraction.

Once he'd had his turn, they were shepherded by their guide, not into the eating hall as Zev had expected, but through another, shorter tunnel into a medium-sized room. It was reinforced with wooden beams, and seemed more like an actual room than any of the caverns they'd seen thus far. Svetlana was seated at a smaller table, a tureen of porridge resting on the surface next to a stack of bowls.

"Thank you," the leader said, nodding to the guide. He disappeared back through the doorway, leaving her alone with the pair of outsiders. "Sit." She gestured at the chairs across from her.

Zev waited for Marieke to sit first, his eyes scanning the room as she did so. Nothing stood out as a danger, and he lowered himself into the chair next to Marieke's while Svetlana ladled porridge into three bowls.

"I thought we'd speak in private," she said in her no-nonsense way. "My people don't need the distraction, and Rissin's more curious than is good for him." She pushed the bowls toward them then leaned back. "I want to know what you came down here to ask me. What answers are you looking for?"

"I want answers about the elves," Marieke said.

"I'm sure you do, now you've seen them." Svetlana wasn't to be distracted from her point. "But that can hardly have been your original purpose, given you didn't know they existed."

"True." Marieke seemed to be weighing her words, a caution Zev approved of.

When Marieke didn't expand, instead tucking into her porridge, Svetlana looked at Zev. "And what about you, Zevadiah? Are you looking for answers as well?"

Zev folded his arms across his chest. "I'm mainly just trying to keep Marieke from getting herself killed in this self-appointed quest of hers."

Marieke acknowledged his words only by a noise of disgruntlement.

"So you're just the bodyguard, then." Svetlana didn't sound convinced as she eyed him. "Or the paramour, or whatever we're calling it."

"He's really neither of those things." Marieke emerged from her porridge, her voice pained. "He's…a friend. "

The bland word stung a little, but Zev knew he was unreasonable to dislike it. He was the one keeping her at arm's length, after all.

"If you say so." Svetlana was no fool, but she clearly wasn't interested in arguing with them about the depth of their relationship. "Now are you going to tell me what sent you down here, or do I have to wring it out of you?" She tapped her knuckles suggestively against the wooden table.

Zev lowered his brow, his gaze threatening her to try it, but she just chuckled.

"Relax, bodyguard, it's an expression."

Marieke wisely ignored the whole exchange, taking her time to finish her mouthful of porridge before answering. "You're right that it wasn't the elves who sent me down here. It was Gorgon."

"He told you to come back here?" Svetlana demanded skeptically.

Marieke gave an unladylike snort that was strangely endearing. "Of course not. There wouldn't have been much point giving me travel directions while attempting to stab me to death. No, I meant that he was the one who raised questions. Lots of questions."

Svetlana sighed. "Questions like what happens when the rashness of youth misapplies a desire to see justice done?"

"I was going to say when the rashness of youth is overfed with stories of injustice but given no outlet for useful action to address it," Zev said with deceptive politeness.

Svetlana's jaw worked for a moment as she stared back at him. Eventually she shifted her gaze to Marieke, apparently deciding not to respond.

"What did Gorgon say?"

"It wasn't just what he said, it was what he did." Marieke pushed away her empty bowl, the action reminding Zev to eat his own cooling porridge. "His attacks on singers made no sense."

Svetlana raised an eyebrow. "Maybe not to you. I'm not saying I agree with his method, but I understand his motive."

"That's not what I mean," Marieke clarified. "What I mean is that he used magic in his attacks. But I could have sworn he wasn't a singer."

Svetlana folded her hands on the tabletop, saying nothing. Marieke raised an eyebrow.

"You've become very quiet."

"I have nothing in particular to say."

"How convenient," Zev said dryly. "Well, you're not denying that Gorgon used magic, so that's confirmation enough for me."

"I don't need confirmation," said Marieke, sounding aggrieved. "I sensed the magic myself. Even if it didn't feel quite like any magic I've felt before."

"I imagine not," Svetlana said coolly. "Being a singer doesn't make you an expert on all sorts of magic, in spite of what your academy would have you think."

Marieke leaned forward, eagerness on her face. "Are you talking about heartsong? So you do know what it is?"

Zev felt himself tensing and tried to hide all signs of it. It hadn't taken Marieke long to get right to where he didn't want her to go. Or at least, where his family didn't want her to go.

Zev caught himself up on the thought. He didn't want his family's secrets revealed, of course he didn't. It was far too dangerous for Marieke to find out about heartsong. The growing desire within him to be open with her, to bare every part of his heart, was nothing but foolishness. Dangerous foolishness .

Fortunately for his secrets, neither woman was paying close attention to him. Svetlana was frowning at Marieke, looking surprised by the turn the conversation had taken.

"Heartsong?" she repeated. "What's that?"

Marieke deflated, disappointed. "Don't you know?" She seemed to be trying to read Svetlana's face, probably wondering if the other woman was faking ignorance. "Gorgon did."

Svetlana considered her. "Gorgon spoke about this heartsong?"

"He mentioned it," Marieke said. "He referred to it as some kind of ancient magic, if I recall correctly."

Svetlana shook her head. "It sounds like he made it up to me."

Zev was sure Marieke didn't agree, but she didn't push the point.

"So what kind of magic was he using in his attacks, then?" she said instead. "I experienced it myself."

"That may be so, but it wasn't anything ancient or mysterious."

They waited for Svetlana to elaborate, but she didn't.

"Then what?" Marieke prompted. "You don't mean he was a singer after all?"

"Of course not." Svetlana sounded affronted. "We don't have singers in our community."

Marieke still looked confused, but Zev had just caught up.

"But you do have elves," he said. "Or at least, dealings with elves. They provided the magic, didn't they?"

Marieke's eyes widened as she understood. "Talismans! Gorgon and the others used elf-made talismans to carry out attacks that couldn't easily be linked to any person."

Svetlana said nothing, but her silence was confirmation enough.

"But why could singers sometimes feel magic, and sometimes not?" Marieke demanded.

"I can answer that," Svetlana said with a sigh. "I've had dealings with the elves for a long time, and I know more about their trade than most. They know how to craft talismans that mask the magic they release. But they're very difficult to make, and therefore very expensive. I can't imagine where Gorgon got the resources to buy or trade for them."

Marieke frowned, her eyes glazing over as she sifted through memories her companions couldn't see. "Witnesses reported no magic at the earlier attacks. But I felt it when Gorgon tried to drown me. He must have run out of the expensive talismans by then."

"Most likely," Svetlana said.

"Why are you telling us this?" Zev demanded.

She met his eye unflinchingly. "I wouldn't have if you hadn't learned about the elves without my involvement. We have an agreement, and we're not supposed to reveal their existence to anyone. But since you know already, I'm free to tell you where Gorgon must have gotten his magic. And I'm telling you because I want to prove to you that neither I nor our community had anything to do with Gorgon's plan. He got his assistance from the elves, not from us."

She shifted her attention to Marieke. "Will you tell your council that? I don't doubt you told them where Gorgon came from, and I'm sure someone somewhere is discussing whether they need to eliminate us as a threat. We'll fight if it comes to it, and they won't find us so easy to dislodge. But we're not looking for a fight. We'd rather put the matter to rest and move on. Gorgon is gone, the attacks have stopped, and you have your answers."

"I don't have the ear of the Council of Singers," Marieke told her bluntly. "I don't know if they're thinking of coming after you, and I couldn't convince them not to if they are."

"I doubt you need to be concerned," Zev interjected, picturing the council meeting he'd witnessed. "Revealing your existence risks exposing the truth of the singers' coup, and the council won't want that."

Marieke bit her lip. "I would have said the same before, but…" She looked at Svetlana with furrowed brow. "It's not entirely true that the attacks have stopped. Singers aren't being killed, but a new kind of magical attack is happening."

Svetlana frowned. "What do you mean? What attacks?"

"Fires, floods, destructive storms." Marieke's slight form sagged in her seat. "In some ways it's worse than the earlier attacks, because the effects are wider."

"That doesn't sound like magical attacks," Svetlana said skeptically.

"Well, it is magic," said Marieke. "I know because I fought one of the fires myself, and it was definitely fueled by magic. It's like an escalation of what Gorgon was trying to do."

"But Gorgon is dead," Svetlana said.

"Maybe some of his group survived," Zev suggested.

Svetlana shook her head. "We're a small community here. We know everyone who went missing when Gorgon launched his vendetta. They're all accounted for." The set of her jaw was stubborn. "If someone's using talismans to make fires and storms, it's not one of us."

"So you think the elves are doing it?" Marieke asked. "You think they're trying to punish the singers for what happened in the past?"

Svetlana stood. "I don't think anything. It has nothing to do with us, and frankly, I'm therefore not interested. But I will say this for elves—they're not motivated by revenge. They're strategic creatures, interested in what they can gain, not what they can make others lose."

"And what do they gain from you?" Zev asked shrewdly. "They trade various goods with you, right? Like silverware? You must be giving them something in return."

Svetlana's eyes were slightly narrowed as she looked back at him. "Our business with the elves is just that— our business."

There was a moment of silence during which Zev and Marieke exchanged a look.

"Well." Zev stood, mirroring Svetlana's posture. "If you've nothing more to say, we'll be on our way."

He knew before the older woman spoke that it wasn't going to be so easy.

"I don't think so," Svetlana said. "I was going to send someone with you to Ondford, to ensure you passed our message to the Council of Singers there." Her eyes flicked to Marieke. "But since you tell me you have no access or influence when it comes to the council, I'm not sure it's worth it. You'll remain here until I decide what to do with you."

"What right do you have to keep us as prisoners?" Marieke demanded, rising to her feet as well.

"You trespassed on our home," Svetlana said, unconcerned. "You've even admitted that you came here to pry into our affairs and ask questions about our community. We have every right."

She waved a hand in dismissal, and a man moved forward from the doorway. Zev recognized him as their guide from earlier.

Marieke seemed inclined to protest further, but Zev put a restraining hand on her arm. Her eyes darted quickly from his hand to his face, and he gave his head a little shake. They would get nowhere arguing with Svetlana. They needed to come up with their own plan to escape .

Still looking far from convinced, Marieke collected her bag from where she'd put it on the floor. Zev had no need to—he'd kept his on him at all times, not trusting any of the monarchists not to rifle through it. They'd already taken his spare knife when they searched the pair's packs the night before. And of course, the blasted elves had destroyed his favorite blade.

The monarchist ushered them forward, his eyes sharp and his face grim. When they reached the main cavern, Zev noted that he made a point of staying between them and the entrance that led to the outside world. On high alert, Zev tensed as a young woman jogged across the space, her eyes on a stack of bowls in her hands and her attention clearly not on where she was going. She was heading straight for them, and Zev's warning cry didn't come in time to stop her from colliding hard with Marieke.

Both girls fell from the impact, and Zev hastened to help Marieke up. He noted in doing so that the other girl had somehow managed to hold on to her bowls, none of which were broken.

"Can you go and be clumsy somewhere else, Trina?" their guide said irritably.

The name made Zev's eyes dart to the girl again. He hadn't even realized she was the same one who'd approached them after their meal the night before.

"Sorry," Trina said breathlessly, looking none of them in the eye as she hurried on.

Still muttering, the guard gestured for them to move toward the same route they'd taken the night before, but Marieke stayed still.

"Wait," she said, sounding self-conscious. "I need to relieve myself again." Her eyes passed to Zev. "Do you, Zev?"

He opened his mouth to say no, then paused. Her eyes were suddenly shooting daggers at him .

"Yes," he said smoothly. "If we're going to be locked away indefinitely, I'll take the opportunity."

The guard sighed. "Hurry up, then. I have better things to do than herd you around all day."

"So sorry to hold you up," said Marieke with cold politeness. "If you're in such a rush, we'll go at the same time so as to be faster."

Zev tried to hide his surprise. He saw the guard's lip curl, but he didn't care what the man was thinking about either their relationship or their dignity. Clearly Marieke had some plan.

He followed her silently into the cave with the spring, and through it to the room with the holes in the floor.

"What is it?" he asked as soon as they were alone. "What are you up to? If you wanted to speak alone, surely we'll have plenty of time for that once they lock us up and throw away the key."

"No, it isn't that," Marieke said, her voice barely more than a murmur. He had to strain to hear it above the sound of running water. "That girl, Trina, said something when she knocked into me. She said to convince you to come into this room with me."

"That's all she said?" Zev asked.

Marieke nodded. "I know we know nothing of her, but it seemed worth taking the risk to me."

"Definitely," he agreed, looking around the small, cold space. There was nothing there but a row of half a dozen holes in the floor, the last one blocked behind a wooden sign with an X on it. A couple of lanterns lit the area with a cool, white light, but it wasn't what one might call inviting. It also stank faintly of urine. "I wonder how long we're supposed to wait here."

His eyes had landed expectantly on the entrance, so he was caught off guard when Marieke let out a squeak of surprise behind him. He swung around to see a head poking up through the latrine hole on the end, the one with the sign indicating that it shouldn't be used.

"Oh good. You managed to both come in here at once. That makes it much easier."

"Trina, right?" Marieke said the name cautiously. "What do you want with us?"

"To help you escape," said Trina. "And we need to be quick if you want to get away with it."

Zev had expected Marieke to jump at the chance, but her voice grew even warier.

"Last time I got that offer, the person tried to throw me off a cliff halfway up the canyon."

"Sure," Trina said practically. "But he wasn't with you that time, was he?"

Her eyes flicked to Zev, and Marieke's followed, her brow furrowed.

"No," she said cautiously, as if expecting a trap.

Trina shrugged. "Well, that was quite a different situation, wasn't it? Of course Gorgon thought he could overpower you. He always was too confident of himself. But have you looked at him lately?" She gestured with her head toward Zev, her eyes passing over his form in a way he found highly amusing. "Those are some serious muscles. I wouldn't be taking him on in a hurry." The girl's face split in a sudden grin, her voice turning cheeky. "At least, not in the sense of fighting him for the right to harm you."

"All right." Marieke sounded put out for some reason. "You've made your point."

"I'm not sure if my opinion counts here," Zev said, still a little entertained by the monarchist girl's manner. "But I'm willing to follow you if it means getting out of this latrine." He felt his voice grow more serious. "But if you're trying to trick Marieke with your assurances, proceed carefully. I really won't let you hurt her."

Trina sighed. "Strong and protective. Are all the men up on the surface like that?"

"No." Marieke's tone was hard to read now. "None of them are like Zev, actually."

"That's a shame," said Trina philosophically. "Now come on, let's go." She flashed Zev another grin. "Although I'm afraid you won't be getting out of the latrine so much as going into it."

Zev couldn't quite keep the distaste off his face, but he didn't protest as Marieke lowered herself into the hole from which Trina's head had just disappeared. He followed, his broader shoulders barely making it through. He found himself on a flat stretch of stone, illuminated by a lantern Trina had brought. The space was too small for him to stand as Trina had been doing.

And he'd thought it smelled bad in the room above.

"When they cut the initial holes to align with the underground stream, they missed with this one," Trina explained cheerfully, her voice as bubbly now as the water running through the darkness somewhere close by. "They tunneled through to empty space, but not directly above the path of the stream. People do occasionally ignore the sign and use it if they're desperate, so it has to be cleaned down here periodically. Not enough to get rid of the smell, though."

"So why are we here?" Marieke asked, covering her nose.

"Because," said Trina with relish, "once when I was on cleaning duty with a friend, we were messing around and discovered something cool. If we shift this boulder like so…"

She started heaving on a large stone, and Zev moved forward to help her. He couldn't help noticing that Trina quickly stopped trying, apparently content to watch him lug the stone on his own. In particular, she seemed quite intent on the muscles straining in his arms. His lips twitched again. How old was this girl? Fifteen? Sixteen? He didn't envy her parents.

"Behold," Trina said dramatically, as Zev cleared the boulder from its place with a grunt.