2. Vale

Chapter 2

Vale

D on't fall asleep.

One would think it was the nights that were the shortest, but they weren't. Even as hard as we worked in the daylight, in the darkness in this labyrinth of a cave system, the nights seemed to stretch on forever until the sun rose again.

Nights brought the monsters—both above and below.

In the darkness with a faint and fleeting flicker of torches, I would wonder if each night would be my last—if they'd somehow found out about the magic under my skin, if they would come for me just as I fell into fitful dreams.

If they'd rip me from Nyrah, leaving her to the clutches of Thane.

Any other night, I'd force myself to close my eyes, to rest for a few hours in the rags we'd cobbled together to form a pallet on the rocky ground. Instead, I was barely keeping them open, hoping I didn't fail us again.

The second Thane's fingers closed around Nyrah's arm, my timetable crumbled to dust. She'd sworn it wasn't bruised, but I knew better. I'd seen her hurt more than once, and her shoulders hit her ears every time I asked about it.

It took everything I had to not divert my plans just a little and seek the bastard out. In my wildest dreams, I stalked him like a hunter in the darkness, taking the blade my mother forced into my palm the fateful day of my parents' death and raking it across his throat. If I wouldn't get caught in an instant, I would do it, too.

I'd do just about anything to keep Nyrah free—do anything to keep my promise to my father before he left that morning. It was as if he knew they wouldn't be coming back.

Watch out for your sister, Vale. Don't let anything happen to her. Promise me.

His order had been a resonant demand, almost as if he could wield magic himself to compel me to do his bidding.

I would have done it without the order, but something about it still grated, as much as it drove me to be better. The last thing he ever said to me wasn't kindness or comfort—not that there was much of either to be had here. It was of obligation—one I would have taken regardless. It was one I'd taken so many times before.

One I would always take.

We wouldn't be safe until Thane was dealt with or we managed to leave. Nyrah's rebuff embarrassed him, and now we'd be looking around every corner to ensure he wasn't lurking in the shadows.

Peeling myself away from my sister's warmth, I stood, careful not to wake her. Of the two of us, Nyrah hadn't ever been as good at keeping her thoughts off her face or out of her mouth, nor was she as skilled at thievery. The last time she tried stealing, it ended in disaster in more ways than one. Unbidden, my fingers brushed the raised scars at the top of my shoulder where I paid the price for her crimes.

If we were ever to make it out of here, I had to make sure she stayed in the dark, had to make sure she knew nothing, had to keep the majority of my thievery to myself. Because if we were caught hoarding, it wouldn't be the blade or the whip this time.

It would be the gorge.

My gut twisted as I hesitated at the opening in our sleeping chamber—a roughly carved hole in the cave system barely big enough for the both of us. I glanced back at the small lump that was my sister, the golden hair so opposite of mine peeking from underneath the covers. I tried to remember when the last time we'd had a bed or a stick of furniture—tried to remember a time before all we were hadn't been whittled down to scraps of fabric and a sad little hole in the mountain.

It had to be before Momma and Father passed. When our sleeping chamber was larger, when we had beds and a small kitchenette and… parents. The day they'd whispered about them falling was still etched into my mind—the way no one would look us in the eye.

It hadn't been until Thane's father—the guild leader of the Perder Lucem —graced the entrance to our sleeping chamber did their loss hit home, did he tell me how they ran from the dragons, choosing the gorge over the fire. In the blink of an eye, I'd transitioned from a thoughtless teenager to a mother.

In a single breath, it had become my job to keep Nyrah safe.

In a single moment, we'd lost everything.

And I was failing—at keeping her fed, at keeping her safe, at keeping her alive. We were one hairsbreadth away from death every single day, and now, with my golden sister in Thane's crosshairs…

Somehow, I had to steal enough supplies for the six days we needed instead of only one, and the thought alone gave me enough heartburn that the meager ration I choked down hours ago threatened to come up. My nighttime strolls to the kitchens had stayed undetected this long because I didn't take too much. Just a ration here or there, a skin to hold water, a blade or two.

Nothing from the front of the stores, nothing too flashy.

Nothing that would be missed.

I'd been so careful.

Tonight, I would need to be careful and excessive, and those two did not mix.

I'd never been brave a day in my life, but each time I went out into the tunnels, I thought about it being my last. I thought of her waking up alone and scared, about her being left to defend herself under this mountain without anyone at her back.

A part of me wished I was brave—wished I was a person who would run forward to prevent a stranger from falling off the catwalk. Wished I was brave enough to hit Thane with the unruly magic in my veins to make sure he knew never to touch my sister again.

But I wasn't.

I was only me. And the only thing I could do was keep my sister alive.

The best way to accomplish this would be to sneak around in the dark and steal food like a rat—jumping the ship as one of those rodents would, praying we didn't get caught by either side of this never-ending war.

This section of the tunnel was lit with flickering torches, their fuel likely to run out in the next hour or so. At least I had a deadline I could stick to this time. Hugging the walls, I refused to let my cowardice steal what few seconds I had. The carved earth widened, opening to another catwalk, this one a only a bit wider than the treacherous stone steps that would take us to the overseer. At least with this one, I had a side wall to hang onto should I stumble.

But I didn't lose my balance. Stealing down those steps, I followed the path into the belly of the mountain, the warmth of being so close to the earth easing some of the pain in my joints. I could pretend it was simply the warmth which made it so I could breathe again, but that wasn't the case. The closer I got to the ground, the farther away I was from the poisoned ore, that kept my magic contained.

Here, I could almost breathe easy.

And easy here was dangerous.

If it weren't for the rock clutched so tightly in my palm, the searing magic trapped beneath my skin would burst free, shining like a beacon in the night.

Squeezing my hand tighter on the ore, I swept through the deserted tunnel into the kitchens, my feet silent on the rocky ground, only because I'd done this so many times before.

I minced through the third tunnel on the right, the loose rocks littering the ground easy to trip over if I wasn't ready for them. Jumping to the slight rise in the wall, I leapt from one side to the other over the sharp stones, soundlessly landing on the other side before twirling into a slight person-sized depression in the rock.

There had never been a guard on the door to these kitchens, but I didn't take any chances. Holding my breath, I waited, listening for the sound of feet shuffling or a blade being drawn, anticipating a trick, even though there had never been one before. The central kitchen where our rations were made and stored was just a little farther down the corridor, tucked away as if it were always meant to be hidden. As if the basic necessity of food had always been a bargaining chip, even though there was nothing of importance here.

The leadership kitchen was three levels up, guarded so heavily it was as if they were hiding riches and secrets, not just fresh fruit and meat. I'd never bothered to breach that space, preferring not to revisit my punishment for Nylah's transgressions. There was nothing fresh in these kitchens. Only the dried bricks of rations and a few kitchen utensils.

Nothing worth guarding, nothing worth anything at all.

Except to me.

After several moments of holding my breath, I risked peering around the corner. Just like always, there was no one standing in my way. As quickly as I could without risking the noise, I slipped into the kitchen, skirting the stoves and racks to make my way to dry storage.

Nicking the full bricks, I wordlessly cursed Darren. There was plenty of food for everyone—always had been. Racks and racks of it. But some of the older bricks were mottled with mold, spoiling because they refused to keep us fed. My whole body boiled with the injustice of it.

People were dying, and they let food go to waste.

Swallowing the bile of hatred clawing up my throat, I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn't decide who I hated more—the dragons who had taken my parents or the leadership who'd tried to kill us with every passing of the sun.

The power roiling underneath my skin surged, trying to break free. My flesh heated, nearly bubbling, as the blaze of magic searched for a way out. I scrambled for the Lumentium , latching onto the poisoned rock as the first rays of power seeped from the open cut on my forearm. My skin sizzled from contact with the stone, but it had done its job. Just as suddenly as the light appeared, it flickered and died, retreating from where it came.

Rage wouldn't get these supplies so we could leave.

Rage wouldn't get my sister out of here.

Rage wouldn't help me.

Focus would.

Gritting my teeth, I stuffed the bricks into the pockets of my trousers. The billowing fabric easily concealed my haul, even if it pulled my waistband too low. Hastily, I cinched the belt tighter, hoping it held as I reformed our escape plan in my mind.

We couldn't wait for sunrise, no matter how much easier it would make our exit on the crumbling catwalks leading to the forest. If the leadership was willing to let food spoil to keep us in line, there would be little stopping them from killing us outright. The time to leave had passed a long time ago.

If I woke Nyrah when I got back, I could get us out between the shift change at the entrance. We could make it to the forest before the sun crested the horizon. I'd heard rumors of the dangers in the wood, but the cover would help on the way to Credour. Dragons weren't known to burn the trees searching for prey.

The trek back to our sleeping chamber was quick. My steps may not have been as careful as they could have been, but excitement thrummed in my veins. We were getting out of here as quickly as our feet could carry us. We had enough food, supplies, and the rest we could make up as we went along.

Nyrah would be free from this place as our parents intended.

But the closer I got to our carved hole of a home, the more the little hairs on my arms stood at attention, a frisson of warning snaking down my spine as the flickering torches slowly died. The catwalk beneath me nearly disappeared from view as I took the last few steps to safety.

But the tunnel didn't feel safe.

Nothing felt safe.

It took a few precious moments for my vision to adjust to the darkness, but the sound hit my ears long before then. A whimper. Nearly silent, but as known to me as my own mind.

Nyrah.

Before my eyes fully adjusted, I ran, streaking down the corridor because I knew what I'd find. Light poured from the cut on my arm, the hunk of Lumentium not enough to stop the surge of power from erupting from my skin. It was so bright it seared my eyes, but I couldn't care about anything but that whimper.

Skidding to a halt outside our sleeping chamber, the brightness marking me as a magic-user illuminated the room, telling me what I knew as soon as I heard my sister's distress.

Thane said she had a week, but he lied.

His big body held her in place, his beefy hand pinning her wrists to the ground as the other snaked into her trousers.

Without hesitation, I dropped the Lumentium in my hand, the surge of hatred, bile, and fear calling the barely contained magic forth faster than I ever thought possible.

He shielded his eyes from the light pouring from my skin, taking his hand from my sister, and she lunged, scrabbling for the knife just out of her reach.

" Luxa ," Thane hissed, the truth from his lips barely a whisper, but it may as well have been a scream.

Yes, I was exactly who he said I was. Not that he'd get a chance to tell anyone.

"Get the fuck away from my sister."

He stood, his cruel smile widening. "What are you going to do about it?"

Even I didn't know what this power could actually do, but I didn't have to worry. He didn't take a single step before Nyrah plunged the dagger into his thigh. She ripped it out and jabbed it into his gut. He bellowed, backhanding my sister into the stone wall.

I loosened the reins on the rage I'd been holding onto—years and years of it—pouring it into my limbs, setting it free. Light flowed from my body, spearing like daggers through the gloom, burning Thane as the bolts of power ran him through worse than my sister had.

His flesh burned, his screams echoing off the walls before they withered and died, the light going out of his eyes as he fell to the ground.

And though I knew he would never touch my sister again, I knew worse things still. The sound of running feet hit my ears, and the truth of it settled into my bones.

We wouldn't make it out of here—not the both of us.

But she would.

Thane twitched, his sizzling flesh a miasma of awful filling the room as I yanked my sister to her feet.

I tore the blade from her grip and gave myself a shallow cut across my belly and another on my arm. This needed to look real.

"Scream, Nyrah. Call me a witch. Point the blade at me. Make it look real."

Nyrah just blinked at me.

"We don't have much time. I have rations stashed in the hole in the wall over there." I pointed to the corner. "As soon as you can make it out of here, head to the forest. Go to Credour like we planned. Promise me."

Tears filled her eyes. "I c-can't. Please don't make me."

I gripped her hands before forcing the blade into them. "You have to. Now scream. Make it look real."

She didn't move, so I hauled back and slapped her. "Do it. I love you, little one. Now survive. For me. Please ."

And even though I'd asked her to, it was still a tiny betrayal when she actually followed through.

" Luxa ," she screamed at the top of her lungs. " Witch. "

The thunder of feet moved faster, shouts of angry men growing louder.

But I didn't see them before lightning flashed behind my eyes. Nyrah's face was the last thing I saw before the light beneath my skin flickered.

Died.

And darkness pulled me under.