Chapter 6

Emjay

Thirty-three years ago

"My love for you both is the reason I can't keep you." ~ Emjay

I don't know what happened to the witch who stole my future, but my people have a new witch in our tunnels.

Hallie has been with us for a few months, and I've been assigned to bring her food and water once a day.

The first time Poppa sent me to tend to her, I went prepared for what condition I might find her in. Or so I thought.

The tunnels are a maze of misery, a labyrinth of lost ambitions and shattered dreams. The path to find her remains dark and damp. I remember when Momma first brought me here, her grip tight on my hand, her look fills with a mixture of fear and determination.

Poppa was different then, before the bitterness took over, leaving nothing left of his humanity. He may have been a man of strength and wisdom in his younger days, but the years have taken their toll. He became harsher, more desperate to sire a son, while maintaining control over us all.

The scent of mildew and decay lingers in the air. Water drips from the stalactites hanging from the cave ceiling, creating an eerie melody. The walls are cold and slick, and the ground is uneven and treacherous.

The sound of chains rattling leads me to my destination.

I hold a lantern to light the path, and the witch shifts toward me. Her wrists are raw and bloody from the unyielding metal shackles binding her to the icy stone wall.

Her shallow breathing worries me. Each inhale is a struggle, while each exhale speaks of her pain.

Bruises and cuts mar her once smooth skin. Underneath the damages, she appears barely eighteen.

Hallie's gaze, though filled with pain, holds a spark of defiance.

Beside her are the remains of another lying in a twisted repose. The bones appear bleached by time. Could this be the one who stifled the call to my mate? The hollow sockets of her skull stare at me in silent mockery. A grim reminder of the agony I experienced while she lived.

I close my lids but avoid taking a deep breath amidst the stench surrounding me. I summon what little strength I have left. All that's required of me is to set the food and water down and walk away. But each visit to Hallie is a battle against my own fears and memories.

I turn to leave with my task completed.

"Please, help me." The whispered request makes me pause. I turn back around with the sound of her chains rattling again.

Her look pleads with me. "I can't reach."

Of course she can't. My need to get as far away from the memories surrounding her presence blinded me to her plight. If I don't feed her and hold the cup to her lips, she'll die from starvation or dehydration.

She isn't the one who ripped my heart from my chest. She tells me her name before I leave and wonders about mine.

"Desdemona," I tell Hallie before racing away as fast as my feet would carry me. Looking back on my skittish behavior fills me with regret.

This is my new routine, night after night.

Other than the "thank you" she croaks out, we don't talk when I come to feed her each evening.

Each visit, the chains bite deeper into her flesh, the bruises darken, and the light in her gaze dims slightly more.

Tonight's the night I risk everything by telling her my plight and ask for her help. My heart pounds in my chest as I approach her, and my mind races with a thousand fears.

"How far along are you?" Hallie asks before I can say anything, her tone laced with genuine curiosity.

I look down at my stomach, gently rubbing the place where my precious children grow, their tiny lives just beginning. My heart aches with the conflicting emotions of love and fear. "Ten weeks," I admit softly, my volume barely above a whisper. I spoon the meager, tasteless food into her mouth.

"You must be overjoyed," Hallie suggests. Her curiosity searches within me for a spark of happiness.

I shake my head, feeling the sting of tears welling up. "They're destined for slavery like the rest of us," I say, my voice breaking. The thought of my children growing up in this cruel world, raised in fear and oppression, is too much to bear. Hallie accepts several more bites without comment.

"Can you help me?" I dare to ask, the words escaping my lips before I can second-guess myself.

An expression of confusion and concern washes over her. "Help you how?"

My first thought had been to beg her to abort them, to spare them from the horrors of this life, but I'm already in love with them. The very idea tears at my soul. "Escape. Find them homes where their father will never get his hands on them," I plead, my desperation clear.

"A task this big would require a great sacrifice," Hallie informs, her tone serious, as if weighing the gravity of what I'm asking.

"Anything," I whisper, my resolve firm despite the fear gnawing at me.

"I need time to plan," she says, her eyes meeting mine with a promise of hope.

"I'm here every evening," I reply. The words came out more sarcastic than intended. The truth behind them remains, though. It's a small sliver of optimism in a world devoid of mercy, but it's all I have.

I walk away, and the chains rattle behind me. A blatant reminder of our captivity. The dripping water echoes in the silence—each drop a countdown to the inevitable. The tunnels, dark and oppressive, symbolize the cages we are all trapped in, both physical and emotional.

"How come you don't cast a spell and escape?" I ask Hallie one night in between bites.

"I could remove the shackles binding me to this wall, but then I'd end up lost to the maze, protecting your people from non-demigods. There isn't a spell that can override what your god has ordained. Maybe death lost in your tunnels would be more merciful, but I fear it still." She shakes the chains holding her here. "At least in this spot, I know what my fate is."

My heart shatters a bit more for Hallie.

"Are you ready?" Hallie questions after swallowing the last bite.

It's been four months since I asked for her help. I feared bringing it up again, so I've remained silent each night.

I gulp amid the thick air caused by the dampness and the smell of mildew. The darkness of the tunnels reminds me of my oppressive circumstances. The dripping water from the stalactites nags at the recesses of my mind, demanding mother nature cease her whining.

Although filled with pain, Hallie's gaze still holds a spark of defiance and determination.

She told me in a rare moment of conversation about her life before the tunnels. She was born with a gift, a power she barely understood. Her capture serves as a brutal reminder of the cost of being different.

"What must I sacrifice?" I ask. My words come out trembling with fear and anticipation.

She hangs her head. "My sacrifice will free me from these chains while setting you free. I need a favor first."

I nod. My heart pounding in my chest.

"The bones beside me. Can you put one of them in my hand? She needs to finally go home so she can rest in peace."

Her request baffles me, but I'm too afraid to question her. I grab the femur. Because of years of decay, the bone easily breaks away from the rest of the remains. Once she has a grip on it, she closes her lids and mumbles under her breath. All of the witch who stole my mating call disappears. I'm too shocked to hold my tongue. "Where did she go?"

"Home to her family."

I gulp.

"If we do this, it's now or never," she urges.

"I'm ready."

"First, you'll need a rune. Grab a stick."

I take my lantern and search the cave until I find one. The darkness presses in around me, and my hands tremble with the fear of being discovered.

"Now, draw a heart on your body and two over your stomach. It doesn't have to be visible. Just go through the motions."

With shaky hands, I follow her instructions and toss the stick away when I finish. My heart seems to speed up, if that's even possible.

Her vision follows the stick. "Get it back and put it in your mouth."

My head and look wonders why, but I do it anyway.

She speaks a word in another language before searing pain courses through my body where I'd drawn the hearts.

My orbs roll back in my head. My teeth bear down on the stick. I can take the pain. I've known pain my entire life. It's my girls. They are writhing inside my womb.

Their kicks are flails of torture, signaling that they are suffering along with me. One of them kicks against my rib with such force that it cracks.

It's over in seconds, but the knowledge that they experienced agony made it feel like hours.

"The rune will protect them from their father. An invisible barrier surrounds the three of you—hiding you from him. None of your herd will be able to catch your scent, giving you time to run and hide. Once the girls are born, I can't hide the part of them that smells of their father—only of you."

It surprises me she knew about our ability to smell one another.

Once my daughters are born, they will carry a piece of their father with them, which worries me. Not if I get them out of this state. The men won't leave the many others on an errand to find the three of us.

"Listen to me carefully," Hallie orders, her tone low and urgent.

I nod, my heart pounding as I hang on to her every word, knowing that my children's lives depend on this moment.

"One of them you will leave at a fire station," she continues, her stare locks onto mine, willing me to understand the gravity of the situation. "The other one, outside of this address."

I sear the address into my mind, even though I don't know how I will find it. I don't know what an address or a fire station is. I've never left the labyrinth, which has been my prison for as long as I can remember. The thought of navigating the outside world fills me with both anticipation and dread.

"How can we know the family at that address will take her?" I ask, my voice trembling with uncertainty.

"Before I was taken, they'd come to me for help. They'd paid me to mix a potion to help them conceive," Hallie explains, her timbre steady and calm despite the dire situation. "I never made the potion."

My brow furrows in confusion. "If they want a child of their own, they won't want mine."

"As soon as they look upon her, they will believe she is theirs," Hallie reassures me, her gaze softening with empathy. "They will never know otherwise."

My heart shatters even more, knowing one of my babies will never wonder who I am and why I had to give her up. But I'll do anything to save her, even if it means breaking my heart more than it already has.

"As soon as it's done, leave and never look back," Hallie instructs, her expression firm and unyielding.

"How will I survive or know where to go? I've never been to the outside world," I confess with the fear of the unknown gnawing at me.

"I'll include a beacon in the spell to the home of the family. Just like finding your mate works, you'll know where to go," Hallie explains. "As for survival, that's all on you. I can only do so much."

"What if Basil finds them?" I whisper as I speak my deepest fear.

"I'll include a warning in the spell. Your heart will burn in agony if any from this herd comes near either of the girls," Hallie says. Her words are of comfort and caution.

Hallie's thought of everything, and I have nothing to give her in return. "Thank you. I wish I could get you out of here," I say with a lump in my throat.

She smiles, a sad but genuine smile. "You are," she replies. Her eyes glisten with unspoken gratitude and victory.

What does that mean?

She mouths the spell under her breath without asking if I'm ready. It doesn't matter if I'm ready. It's now.

I watch her until the last word leaves her lips. Her body goes limp. With shaking fingers, I check for a pulse. She's gone. Is that the sacrifice she made? Her life for me and my daughters.

There's no time to mourn or ponder. I rise and head for the exit. Technically, I've been outside once. It's part of the control the herd enacts over us. They want us to see that we are in the heart of the mountains with nowhere to go. In every direction, there are trees and more trees. Certain death awaits anyone trying to find a path to freedom.

I choose to trust that Hallie gave her life for us, and because of that, I'll find my way through the mountains to civilization.

As soon as my feet touch the ground, I somehow know which way to walk. The sun is setting. I square my shoulders and move where my feet carry me. I must get as far from here as possible before the search begins.